#sal hurt comfort | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ad0rebrial · 1 month

Text

I Can’t Breathe (Please Don’t Say You Love Me.)

Cross-posted on Ao3 under the same user!

Character:Sal Fisher

Warnings: Murder, blood, gore, violence, death.

Sal's gaze remained fixed on the door, its Ferncolor seemingly captivating him. He had been in this position for quite some time, completely motionless and devoid of any expression in his eyes. It was as if he had transformed into a statue, a peculiar figure standing there in an almost deranged manner.

Not like anyone was going to see him anyway.

One after another, each neighbor met their demise. They were perishing rapidly, akin to flies succumbing to the chilling touch of a steel knife. With utmost swiftness, he executed his stabs, ensuring they struck vital organs to expedite their deaths smoothly. Efficiency was paramount in his methodical approach. Yet, his actions were not driven by malevolence or pleasure; they stemmed from a sense of protection and necessity. He had no choice but to take such extreme measures, as the consequences of inaction would inflict suffering upon everyone. The weight of his task was not to be taken lightly. These individuals were not mere neighbors - some were cherished friends whom he held dearly and would never harm. Until now, that is.

He had a special place in his heart for someone truly unforgettable. This individual held a cherished spot in his life, as he adored every little detail about them. From their hair to their eyes, their scent to their fashion sense, their smile to their unique perspectives, they were his world. He had known them since the day he moved into the dreadful apartment complex. At the age of fifteen, they had moved in next door to him just a week after he had settled in. It was like fate had brought them together. Ash had introduced them to his circle of friends, and from that moment on, everything changed.

The moment they walked into the room, his breath caught in his throat. They were stunning, with features so striking that he couldn't take his eyes off them. Despite feeling a twinge of shame for his intense gaze, he found himself unable to look away. And then they spoke. Good Lord, their voice was like music to his ears. He couldn't help but feel a fluttering sensation in his stomach. It was a feeling he tried to suppress at first, but now, looking back on it, he has no qualms about admitting that their voice was downright sexy. As he got to know them better, he learned about their life before they moved to Addison Apartments, the type of music they loved, and their hobbies and interests. It was a privilege to get to know them, and he cherished every moment spent in their company.

he wished that he could take all of this back. He wished that things could end up differently. He didn’t want to do this, but he had no choice. He didn’t want to put them in any harm. He finally realized that this was his only choice, He broke down into misery. He didn’t want to hurt them, he didn’t want to hurt anyone. all of these people, including them are his friends, one of them being his lover, who has fallen into his deadly grasp of death itself. right next to his apartment which is listed as 402, stood your apartment, 403. You two are side-by-side. his eyes board into the three digits on your apartment door. He did not want to raise his fist to knock on your apartment door, knowing that you’d end up dead when he came out, he had to put on a fake act just to kill you right here right now in your very own home all by yourself your parents aren’t even here. Hell, he had even taken off his prosthetic mask just so that you wouldn’t be able to see the blood that was left on it by your dear neighbors. He pulled down his shirt over his jeans to cover up the blood that was on the hip of his jeans. You’re all by yourself nobody to defend you, even if you try to defend yourself you’d be trying to protect yourself from your lover, Sal Fisher.

when he knocked on your apartment door after standing there for so long, he could hear your footsteps creeping closer and closer to your front door. He dreaded that you were awake around this time. He thought that you’ll be asleep then maybe he’ll be forced to inside your own home and probably kill you in your sleep.

He would rather do that.

“Sal? What are you doing here?” he should’ve just killed you right then and there to make click and easy but he wouldn’t be able to do that. He just couldn’t. That’ll be too short. He had to look at the beauty of your face one last time he just had to he didn’t want you to die so quickly he wanted to be able to see you to hear you to be able to hug you, he wouldn’t be able to do that if you’re lying on the floor and your pull blood that will not be a pretty sight to see. He hates himself for this. He feels like some sort of fucking maniac. Well, he is a maniac now. But his point still stands.

“Yeah, I just thought that I would come over if that’s alright with you?” He said, forcing his voice to sound calm and collected, trying not to allow you to see what a monster he had become. he felt the knife in his back pocket. If you were just one of his neighbors and not his lover he would’ve sliced your neck right now, but in this case, you weren’t just a plain old neighbor or a friend— you are the love of his life that he hadn't killed yet, the one that made him feel alive, which was ironic at this point because he was going to kill you he was going to live. You didn’t understand you didn’t see it. You can’t see it. You don’t know the only one inside his apartment complex. You don’t understand that he is doing this to protect you, that made him feel alive, which was ironic at this point because he was going to kill you he was going to live. You didn’t understand you didn’t see it. You can’t see it. You don’t know the only one inside his apartment complex. You don’t understand that he is doing this to protect you, you will never understand because you'll only see him as a murderer. An emotionless murderer who killed your friends, your neighbors and now he’s gonna kill you.

“Aww, now you know I won’t mind! Come on, I made some spaghetti!” You said as you took his cold hand in your own and dragged him into the comfort of your home. The feeling of your hand nearly made him break down into pathetic tears. He realized that he wouldn’t be able to feel your warmth ever again after this.

Sal sat down at the dinner table as you got the two of you’s plates ready. He couldn’t believe that he was sitting at your table right now, getting ready to eat with you before taking your life. The pit in his stomach grew.

he remembered the first time when he tried your cooking you claimed that you’re cooking wasn’t all that good but when he got a piece of it in his mouth, he disagreed completely. He remembers when you both were younger he would nearly go to your house and have dinner with you and your family almost every night or so it wasn’t only just your family cooking that was good, but it was yours too. he shared how he would come over and get himself a small plate of your cooking because he loves it so much, even if it’s just a plain basic meal he would get up and get some seconds. There was no doubt that he would miss cooking. He will miss everything about you. The smell of spaghetti filled what was left of his nose as you sat a plate full of spaghetti right in front of him and a glass of some tea. You sat down across from him on his right.

“How has your day been?” You asked him with a smile as you put some more cheese on your plate.

“Good,” that was a bullshit lie a pitiful lie, a dumbass lie he knows that his day was not fucking good. He knows that his night went fucking terrible as if he didn’t just kill 14 people in this apartment complex. He knows what he’s doing. “what about yours?”

“It was…okay. I’ve just been pretty lonely.” You said with a soft shrug. Yeah, your parents have taken a trip and you didn’t want to go. He wishes that you did. “But when you came all of a sudden, my night has gotten better!” You added on. He stared into your eyes longingly. You always look so heavenly he loved you so much. He does. He wants us to and he doesn’t want to make you guys so quickly. He wants to be able to look at you. He was available to be with you this last time. There isn’t any tomorrow, there isn’t any day after tomorrow. There just isn’t. He has to make this your last day on earth and his last day being able to look at you this way.

he doesn’t want you to leave. He doesn’t want to be the one to take you out of this world. He wants to be with you forever if he kills you, he loses everything. He loses himself. He loses his sanity. He loses you.

Wait, he has to remember that he’s doing this out of protection. Yeah… he’s doing this protection. He does not enjoy doing this to his peers. He does not enjoy any of this. He has to remind himself of that. He doesn’t like doing any of this, right?

… he isn’t crazy. He is fine. He isn’t crazy. He loves you more than you’ll ever know, right?

Does he love you?

Does he enjoy killing?

…No. He doesn’t enjoy it. He hates it. But that’s what truly makes him mad? he isn’t insane. No, no, no.

Oh, how dreadful he truly is. How mad he truly is. how disgusting he truly is. He’s nasty. He’s dirty.

Sal feels his mind start to spin. It got faster, and faster, and faster, and faster, and faster and faster. he felt his hands get sweaty. He felt his head hurt. He felt his mouth become dry. He felt dizzy. He felt sick.

Is this what madness feels like?

Is this what the loss of sanity feels like?

No. Nononononononono. He isn’t mad. He isn’t insane. He is completely fine. If anything, he was smart. he was very smart for doing this. Now, he can protect you.

Or was he?

Sal started to grow pale in the face. He started to sweat in the face now. His eyes grew blurry his breathing quickened. No, he has to keep his cool, or else you’ll suspect something. He didn’t want you to suspect anything of him right now. He couldn’t. So he tried to hide the fact that he was losing his cool. His act is not working right now. He tried to intake, deep, steady breaths, but they all came out shaky and quivered.

“Sal? Are you okay..?—“

“Yes. I’m fine.” Fuck. For fucks sake he replied to your worry too quickly for your liking. His voice didn’t come out smoothly either. Instead of that, it came out as wavering and slightly cracked. “S-Sorry, I’m just thinking about…about…YOU!” He suddenly said loudly. “I-I mean…yeah, I was thinking about you…”

Despite him acting so strange you smiled at him. This does show that you never cared about the way he acted or the way he looked. That’s one of the reasons why he fell so hard for you. You didn’t pay attention to looks, you paid attention to character.

looks like it was collapsing around him. Your smile was driving him crazy. He won’t see your smile ever again. He won’t be able to see you happy like this ever again. No, he has to calm down. He’s getting so worked up. The dizziness, the heavy breathing, the headache, the sweating, the pain, the feeling of dread, the feeling of insanity— he couldn’t allow this to affect his plan. He planned that he’d get you to go to bed and then from there, he would kill you as swiftly as he could. you wouldn’t feel a thing due to you being asleep. His nails dug into the rips of his jeans. He tried to get all of this stuff, but he just couldn’t calm me down. He struggled against his mind, his self, his issues, his problems, his dread— he tried everything to get the stop! Why wouldn’t leave him alone? He didn’t want to end this way, he didn’t! Calm the fuck down!? why is he struggling this fucking bad? Why!?

NO! You looked over at him with much more worry this time. You had tried to call his name but he wouldn’t answer to you. Now, you done caught up to him. You caught up to the fact that he was acting strange by the second.

No…No. No. No. No. No. No. NO! This can’t be happening—he had everything under control! He planned this all out mentally with the last hits of sanity he had within him but why does it just crumble down into pieces? Why is it with you he feels up with so much anxiety like this? He already knows your fate but why is his plan faltering? WHY IS IT NOT GOING THE WAY HE WANTED IT TO GO!? He wanted to make sure that you don’t feel ANY pain! So—so why!? Why is he struggling so badly right now!? Why did you have to catch on!? Why didn’t he just slit your fucking throat right then and there as soon as you opened the door!? Why was he so desperate to see you? To see you one last time!? Why!? Oh fucking god—fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!—

You let out a loud high-pitched scream of terror as Sal whipped out the knife that was snuggled in his back pocket and shot up right from his seat. Before you could try to run out of your seating he grabbed you in an iron grip and pulled you right back. You thrashed around helplessly as your free hand clamped around his wrist that held the knife. Sal’s eyes stared down into your fearful ones, his eyes blown out. You then forced the impact of your body into his own, making him release his grip on you as he fell backward onto his original spot in his chair. This also caused the plates of barely touched spaghetti to hit the floor and caused the plasters of the noodles and sauce and broken glass of the plates to fly down onto the floor. You ran right out of the dining room and into your bedroom, slamming the door shut loudly.

“SAL..! STOP IT! Tears streaming down your face were a painful reminder that the doors in this wretched place could only be locked from the outside, leaving you defenseless. With all your strength, you pushed against the door, using every ounce of your body weight to keep him out. It felt like a never-ending tug of war between you and Sal, as he relentlessly tried to force his way in while you fought to keep him at bay. The fear in your voice grew louder as you shouted, pleading for him to stop and wondering why he was behaving so aggressively. The door swung back and forth violently, causing your heart to race with each slam and open-close motion. Amidst the chaos, your eyes caught sight of a nearby chair, and you quickly grabbed it, dragging it towards the door. With trembling hands, you strategically placed the chair beneath the doorknob, creating an additional barrier to hinder Sal's entry. Watching the chair's presence, you hoped it would be enough to keep him out and provide you with a momentary sense of safety.

Should you jump out of the window? Hell no…it’s too far down you’ll die.

There were no good hiding spots in your room. Absolutely none. There was underneath your bed and the closet but both of them weren’t good enough…

Your ears caught a sound of scrapping and stabbing and you turned only to see that he was making fucking dents in your door. Your eyes widened in horror at the knife exiting in and out of your door as you saw pieces of wood fly out of the door. You rushed towards your closet and pushed it open, squeezing yourself in and shutting closed. Due to your closet doors having lenses, you had to squish yourself up against a corner and hide amongst the many clothes you had in there, trying to keep yourself unnoticeable as much as possible. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest due to its beating. You still couldn’t bring yourself to understand why Sal was doing something like this…why was he trying to kill you? Why? He was fine yesterday, and for the rest of the day, he was fine! But what could’ve possibly happened to make him act this way? You held a hand over your mouth as you squeezed your eyes shut.

A feeling of dread washed over you as the sound of the door creaking open reached your ears. How did he manage to enter unnoticed? The chair you had placed as a barricade was right there, and yet he found a way in. Panic set in as you realized the vulnerability of your situation. The room was eerily quiet, even though it was evident that he had infiltrated your sanctuary. Fear gripped you, as you pondered the possibility that he was patiently waiting for any sign of movement to pounce on you from your hiding place. Uncertainty clouded your mind, leaving you clueless about the appropriate course of action. All you could do was maintain absolute silence, hoping that it would somehow protect you.

Please…any strong deity out there, please keep me safe. Please keep me out of the hands of this monster. Please, please…I beg of you. Please give me strength, please allow me to make it out of here alive and unharmed. Wrap your arms around me and shield me from the danger. Keep me safe. Please protect me with your shield and all of your strength. I beg of you, please just—….

In an instant, the words of your prayer ceased to resonate within your mind, leaving you stunned and speechless. Your eyes widened, capturing the terrifying scene before you. Waves of agony surged through your heart, causing it to beat rapidly against your chest. Fear consumed every fiber of your being, rendering you completely paralyzed and incapable of even the slightest movement or blink. As if in response to your terror, a sudden gust of wind swept across your face, sending a shiver down your spine. The frigid touch of the wind mingled with the dampness of tears staining your cheeks. With an unwavering gaze, you looked up at the figure that greeted you, only to realize that it was not the divine entity you had fervently prayed to for salvation. No, this was a monstrous being known as Sal Fisher.

At a speed faster than light, Sal aggressively seized a handful of your hair, causing you to emit a painful scream as he forcefully pulled you from your hiding spot in the corner of the closet. Your terrified cries echoed through the room as you struggled against his firm grasp. Despite your efforts to resist, he managed to get you on your feet as you continued to push back against him. "STOP! LET GO OF ME! LET ME GO!" you yelled out in desperation. Sal gazed down at you with one eye wide and fixed on you like a predator. The two of you collided with the walls, dresser, and mirror in the room as the intense struggle unfolded. With a menacing growl, Sal forcefully pushed you to the ground.

As tears streamed down your face and sobs escaped your throat, you found yourself engulfed in an overwhelming wave of despair. Sal, on the other hand, remained motionless, his gaze fixated upon you without uttering a single word. His presence seemed hauntingly still as he stood there, his eyes locked upon you, seemingly dissecting every emotion that poured out from within you. Despite the torrent of tears and the overwhelming anguish, your vision remained clear enough to perceive Sal's unwavering stare, which seemed to penetrate through the depths of your being.

Just as if he had been anticipating it, he positioned himself on top of you, causing you to struggle for breath as you desperately attempted to distance yourself from him. With a firm and forceful grip, he clutched onto your shoulders, his intense gaze fixated upon you. Tears streamed down your face as you gazed up at him, silently pleading for him to release you from his grasp and allow you to be.

“…You look pretty. Even when you're like this.” Sal said softly. His voice was still as sweet and gentle as ever. He raised a hand away from your shoulder and onto your wet cheek. His blue eyes stared down at you, looking at your teary-eyed ones. it was true you did look so pretty in this moment despite the fear written all over your delicate face the way your tears shined in the moonlight, making it visible the way your eyes were puffy and red, and the way you were practically tumbling underneath him. How could he not say that you looked so pretty?

“W-Why are you doing this…!? Sal, what has gotten into you..!?” You shouted in a panicked tone. Oh, how he wishes that he can give you a straight answer. He doesn’t know what’s going on with him either. It’s either he does or he just doesn’t want to tell you because he knows that it’ll break your heart if he did. But hasn’t he already done enough damage? What’s any different about it just by him telling you what has gotten into his mind? I guess you can’t say that he is terrified of telling you the truth despite the damage he has already done and is about to commit to doing.

“…All of them are dead.”

“W—What…?”

“You heard me, Y/n. All of the people inside this joint are dead. It’s just me and you.”

Sal saw how your face had gotten pale. If you weren’t scared shitless before now you are. Did your friend? Your boyfriend? Kill the residents inside of the Addison Apartments..? Did he do that…? But why? He couldn’t have possibly done something like that!

To be completely honest, you were completely oblivious to the situation at hand. The mysterious phenomenon of the Red Eyes spreading throughout the vicinity was entirely foreign to you. It was all because Sal deliberately kept you in the dark, ensuring that you remained ignorant about the eerie happenings. Once your relationship with Sal evolved beyond mere friendship, he took it upon himself to shield you from the sinister activities unfolding within the confines of the apartments. His main objective was to safeguard you from the unknown entities lurking behind the walls. Presently, he is actively engaged in fulfilling this duty of protecting you.

“No…”

“Yes.”

“No..! Sal, stop it. You’re scaring me!—“

“What don’t you fucking understand?” Sal sneered down at you. Were you stupid? Slow in the mind? What don’t you understand? He’s not doing this just for fun or out of pure malice—he’s doing this to protect you! You shouldn’t be scared of him, you should be afraid of the Red Eyes that are spreading across Nockfell. Not HIM. “I’m protecting you! I’m the one keeping you safe and this is how you repay me?”

“KEEPING ME SAFE FROM WHAT!?” You screamed in his face. You glared daggers at him. “YOU’RE THE ONE WHO TRIED TO ATTACK ME! THE ONE WHO TRIED TO KILL ME! I'M MORE SCARED OF YOU THAN ANYTHING!” You cried out. Scared? Of him? You were fucking unbelievable.

“The Red Eyes, god damnit! I need to stop the goddamn spread! You're acting like I wanted to do this—I’m hurting too. I don’t want to do this, okay? You don’t realize how much resilience it took me to bring my ass over here to YOUR apartment door just to get you like this!” Sal’s voice bounced off the walls as the iron grip of his hands on your shoulders made its comeback once more. You winced as he continued to shout and screech in your face, claiming that you were the one who needed to understand this.

What the hell was he on about? His words seem to emanate from a disordered mind, for fucks sake! How he forcefully grasps you, bellowing in your presence, bears no resemblance to the composed and gentle Sal you have known throughout the years. Never before have you witnessed him raising his voice in such a manner, nor experienced his ironclad grip or witnessed him behaving in such a manner.

“GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME!” You shouted suddenly before grabbing a fallen hard-cover book and swinging it at his face. The sudden collision to his face made Sal fall on the ground to your left, also relinquishing his grip on the knife he had. The knife clanked on the dresser and you stood up on your quivering legs. You snatched the closest thing that you could reach and that was a metal baseball bat. It belonged to your late grandfather back when he used to play baseball. You still remember the day you showed it to your friends including Sal. It was horrendous that soon this precious item would be used to defend yourself against someone that you love all so dearly.

Sal rose to his feet, his gaze widening upon witnessing your firm grip on that formidable baseball bat. Were you contemplating striking him on the head with it? Surely not... it is evident that you possess a prudent caution, rendering you unwilling to commit such a bold act. Sal’s eyes made contact with did silver gleam of the knife before taking a lunge to grab it at once.

In a swift motion, you tightly shut your eyes and raise your metallic weapon, forcefully bringing it down upon his head before he even has a chance to fully grip the rough handle of his knife. The impact is met with an excruciating screech of pain from Sal, one that is undeniably unbearable. As the blow connects, he can feel the warmth of his blood trickling down from his wounded head, slowly making its way down his face. This agonizing sensation only intensifies the already persistent headache that has plagued him ever since he arrived in this place. Despite the excruciating pain in his head, his hand wavered as he finally grasped the handle of the knife. You let out another war cry before swinging it towards his already deformed face. Why the fuck did you choose to strike him in that specific spot? Wouldn't it have been more suitable to deliver another blow to his head rather than subjecting him to further damage on his already severely injured face? Hell, I guess you didn’t care where you hit him in the first place. Sal's agonizing cries echoed through the air as the bat made contact with his body once more.

“YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A MANAIC!” You shouted at him. Your voice boomed off the walls of your room. “YOU ARE FUCKING INSANE! YOU’VE GONE MAD COMPLETELY! THE OUT OF YOUR DAMN MIND!” You belittled him in such a manner.

He was deeply appalled by your audacity to utter such words to him. It is unjustifiable for you to label him as mad, crazy, insane, or even a maniac. He is none of those things. On the contrary, it is you who displays signs of irrationality, madness, and insanity. It is utterly incomprehensible how you could treat him in such a manner, especially because all he was attempting to do was safeguard and protect you. Your behavior can only be described as ungrateful and despicable. It is important to note that following your hurtful remarks and attempts to belittle him, he underwent a sudden and drastic change in his mental state.

You were filled with a sense of dread as he suddenly pounced towards you, knocking you off your feet and onto the bed where you both landed. "YOU WILL NOT TREAT ME THIS WAY! I AM NOT INSANE!" He yelled in your face, his voice growing louder and more strained. Sal lifted the gleaming silver blade of the knife and held it menacingly over your stomach. Your eyes widened in terror and disbelief. "NOT YOU! NOT ASH! NOT TODD! NOT LARRY! NOT LISA! NOT MY FATHER! NO ONE!" The blade descended, piercing your stomach and causing you to emit a strangled scream as blood rose in your throat and spilled from your mouth. With a swift motion, Sal withdrew the knife from your abdomen only to stab you again, eliciting another cry of excruciating pain. He continued to stab you repeatedly, the sheets beneath you becoming soaked with blood as your weakened body struggled to fend off his relentless attacks. Your feeble hands pressed against his chest, a futile attempt to shield yourself from his merciless assault.

Sal was breathing heavily, his eyes fixed on you as you gasped for air and struggled to catch your breath. Your hands were clenched into fists, covered in his blood-soaked shirt, as he leaned in closer towards you. He gazed at you for a brief moment, recognizing your presence. Sal slowly wrapped his arms around you protectively before planting a ginger kiss on your cold cheek. “I-I-I..can…t…breathe…—“ Those words left your mouth so weakly. Sal smiled down at you despite the pain in his face due to the metal bat’s impact.

Sal's words echoed in your ears, "I love you." The sheer shock of his confession caused your eyes to widen in disbelief. How could he possibly love you? Was this some kind of sick joke? The audacity of him to utter those three words to your face like it meant nothing. It became apparent that he truly didn't care about the consequences of his actions if there were any. It seemed that he took pleasure in observing you gasping for air, desperately trying to hold onto the fragments of your crumbling life.

“P…Please….d-don’t…s..say..you…love m…me.”

Sal’s eyes widened at your words. What do you mean? No, you weren’t supposed to say that. You were supposed to reply by telling him that you love him too… not that. You were never supposed to say that. No…How could you? How could you do this to him? In your last breaths, you’re just going to tell him that!? After he saved your fucking life you’re going to look him in his face and say something so heartless!?

“…You ungrateful bitch.” Sal glared down at you. “After I saved your damn life you’re going to say that to my face? I should’ve slit your throat right as soon as you opened your door, that’s what I should’ve done. YOU'RE NOTHING BUT UNGRATEFUL!” Sal screamed at you. He stared down at you as he panted heavily.

…

Sal’s eyes squinted as his brows furrowed slightly.

…

“Y/n?” He moved the fallen locks of your hair out of your face softly, rubbing his thumb on your cheek.

“…Did I…kill…” Sal’s eyes started to water in utter horror as he continued to stare down at your lifeless body. You were no longer warm—you were cold. “…Did I kill, Y/n…?” Sal whispered to himself. He shook your body softly, patting your cheek. Sal shoved his head into your neck before letting out a cracked scream of horror, his arms hugged you tightly. “NO! NONONONONO! IM SORRY! IM SORRY! OH FUCK IM SO SORRY, Y/N!” Sal let out an excruciating sob that was muffled, his shoulders shook as screams and sobs ran through his body. He took your life. He took you away. He took you away from your friends. He took you away from your family. He took you away. He took you away from this world.

He took you away from himself.

He was aware of your overwhelming fear and understood that his drastic appearance would only intensify it. The thought of encountering him in such a state terrified you to the core. All you yearned for was his return to a state of serenity and rationality. Deep down, you were well aware that he was not alright. Right from the beginning, you sensed that your boyfriend had lost himself, and this realization instilled fear not just for his well-being, but for your safety as well. Despite these fears, you decided to let him enter your home for one final conversation, knowing it could potentially be a risk.

Sal looked over at your window as he heard the sirens of police cars. He saw the flashing blue and red lights shine so brightly through your window. He turned back over to your lifeless body.

He knows that he definitely will not be getting a visitor in prison.

#sally face oneshots #sally face #sally face imagine #sally face drabbles #sal fisher #sally face angst #sal fisher x you #sal fisher x y/n #sal fisher x reader #angst #hurt no comfort #tw death #sally face x y/n #sally face x you

30 notes · View notes

salty-an-disco · 4 months

Text

Night-Time Interruption

Hero often dreams of the different vessels he encountered. Contrarian is always there to comfort him.

“Sal, did you really write another fic where they just cuddle and talk while in bed?”

I sure as hell did!!!

#no such thing as too many cuddle fics #besides. this time it’s HURT/COMFORT not *purely fluff* so it’s DIFFERENT /j #Voice of the Contrarian #Voice of the Hero #ContraHero #slay the princess #stp fanfic #spoilers for the prisoner route #Sal Writes

10 notes · View notes

pippafitzamobisleftblueconverse · 29 days

Text

UNWAVERING SUPPORT

Context:sal has an anxiety attack in front of andie (hurt/comfort)

Sal anxiously paced back and forth in his living room, the anticipation of Andie's arrival weighing heavily on his mind. With each passing second, his heart pounded in his chest, mirroring the rapid pace of his thoughts. He couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension, longing for everything to go smoothly.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the doorbell rang. Sal's heart skipped a beat as he hurriedly made his way to the door. Opening it, he was greeted by Andie's radiant smile, a sight that never failed to bring warmth to his soul. Without a word, he pulled her into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around her protectively. Andie reciprocated the hug, feeling the tension in Sal's body. She knew him well enough to sense that something was off, even though he tried his best to hide it.

They made their way up the stairs, their steps filled with a familiar rhythm that spoke of countless shared moments. As they entered Sal's room, the atmosphere shifted, a sense of calm settling over them. The room, adorned with photographs and memories, served as a sanctuary from the outside world.

Sal sat down at his desk, gathering his study materials, while Andie settled beside him. Their bodies were close, the warmth of their presence intertwining like puzzle pieces. As they delved into the realm of academia, their minds focused on the task at hand. But even in the midst of their studies, their connection remained palpable, their gazes often meeting in silent appreciation.

In between moments of intense concentration, Sal found solace in stealing glances at Andie. Her golden locks cascaded down her shoulders, framing a face that seemed to radiate with an ethereal glow. Her deep blue eyes sparkled with intelligence and kindness, drawing Sal in like a moth to a flame. Andie, aware of his loving gaze, would reciprocate with a soft smile that made Sal's heart skip a beat.

But suddenly, out of nowhere, Sal felt that familiar wave of anxiety crashing over him. It was as if a storm had brewed within his mind, brewing with irrational fears and worries. His heart started racing, his palms becoming clammy, and he struggled to catch his breath. It was like his body had betrayed him, succumbing to the invisible chains that anxiety wrapped around him.

Andie, attuned to the subtle shifts in Sal's demeanor, sensed his distress. She gently placed a hand on his, her touch grounding and comforting. "Hey, it's okay. I'm right here with you," she whispered softly, her voice laced with love and reassurance. Sal's eyes welled up with tears as he fought to regain control over his racing thoughts. He silently begged the universe to release him from the grip of anxiety, but it seemed to respond with indifference, intensifying his anguish as he sobbed, tears streaming down his face.

Unable to contain his emotions any longer, Sal's body trembled as tears streamed down his face. Andie held him even closer, enveloping him in her warmth and affection. She guided him through deep breaths, her voice like a soothing melody, encouraging him to inhale slowly and exhale all the tension away. With each breath, Sal felt a glimmer of calmness wash over him, as if Andie's words were a lifeline pulling him out of the storm.

As Sal's breathing started to steady, Andie continued to reassure him. She reminded him of all the times he had overcome his anxiety before, highlighting his strength and resilience. With each calming word she spoke, such as "You're okay" and "I'm here," Sal felt a renewed sense of hope ignite within him.

Andie's unwavering support became a lifeline in the midst of the chaos that anxiety brought. She held him tightly, her embrace a shield against the world. As Sal leaned into her chest, his tears staining her shirt, he released the pent-up emotions that had been consuming him. Andie, with her gentle touch, soothed his troubled mind, stroking his hair with tenderness and care.

In that vulnerable moment, Sal found solace in knowing that Andie accepted him for who he was, anxiety and all. She embraced every part of him, including the darkest corners of his mind. And as the weight of his anxiety slowly lifted, Sal felt a profound sense of gratitude for the love and understanding he had found in Andie.

Exhaustion washed over Sal, leaving him feeling drained both mentally and physically. Andie, aware of his weariness, guided him to his bed with gentle nudges. She tucked him in, ensuring he was comfortable and safe. As Sal surrendered to the embrace of sleep, his breathing steady and his mind at ease, Andie stayed by his side, watching over him with unwavering devotion.

The night stretched on, the world outside quiet and serene. Andie's presence brought a sense of peace and security to Sal's restless mind. Her soft kisses on his forehead served as a gentle lullaby, soothing him into a deep slumber.

As dawn broke and the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, Sal stirred from his sleep. He opened his eyes to find Andie still beside him, her presence a constant reminder of the love and support that had carried him through the night. In that moment, their eyes met, and a silent understanding passed between them.

With Andie by his side, Sal felt a renewed sense of strength and resilience. He knew that he wasn't alone in his battle against anxiety, for Andie was there, a beacon of light in the darkest of times.

As they embarked on a new day, Sal felt a deep sense of gratitude for Andie's unwavering support. And with each passing moment, their love grew stronger, the bond between them forged through the trials they faced together. With Andie as his anchor.

#i love aggtm #agggtm fanfic #hurt/comfort #a good girls guide to murder #sal singh x andie bell #sal singh is so cute #sal x andie #andie x sal #andie bell #andie bell x sal singh #sal singh #sal has an anxiety attack #andies the best gf!#i love them #agggtm #viral post #oneshot

6 notes · View notes

paulie-lombardos-boy-toy · 2 years

Note

For writing requests of they are open - Vito x Joe or Henry x Vito, realizing you can't live without someone 💖💖💖

Empty.

That’s what Vito felt during his stint in prison. He kept telling himself that he didn’t need anyone, and nearly believed it, but every now and then, he would find himself sitting numbly on his bed as his tormented thoughts plauged his every waking moment.

He missed Joe. He missed his mom. Hell, he even missed Henry, even though it was because of him he was behind bars at the current time. He lashed out against everyone, despite the consequences, and slowly felt himself spiral out of control as he got into more and more fights-losing more than winning.

Each day, Vito waited for someone to come visit, but no one ever did, and he started to retreat more and more into himself as his walls slowly hardened around his heart and refused to even think about those on the outside again.

——

Henry sat in his apartment, guilt pooling in his gut. He genuinely felt bad for Vito, but every time he tried to go visit, that little nagging voice told him that it would be better if he kept his distance, so he did. As he swirled his glass, he thought to Vito’s deep blue eyes that always seemed to be guarded, but in the right atmosphere , could brighten like sapphires in the light.

After Vito was released, Vito stood outside the jail with a bag, shuffling from one foot to another and jumped when a finger tapped his shoulder. He turned and saw Henry there, but instead of embracing him, or even throwing a punch, Vito just stared as Henry avoided his eyes.

“Good to see you again, Vito. I… I missed you.” Vito only grunted and lugged his bag to Henry’s car before climbing into the front seat and rested his head on his fist as he leaned against the window. Henry felt the sting, but continued to push on.

The drive was silent before Vito bit his lip and tried to fight the tears welling up in his eyes. “Y-you IDIOT!! Where the fuck were you, dammit?! 10 fucking years in that hellhole with no one to talk to beside the old janitor in Block A. Am I really that unimportant to you? You just couldn’t help but jump onto the “Let’s Fuck Up Vito’s Life” train, huh?”

Henry winced, but stayed silent, knowing that Vito had every right to be pissed off at the world and everyone in it. Vito soon lowered his voice and adverted his eyes as his cheeks were stained with tears. “I missed you, Hen. I-I don’t want to do this anymore. I-I’m tired of being fucked at every corner and Fate treating me like a chew toy. I’m just..done.”

Henry parked in an empty lot and turned to Vito as his heart broke more when he saw Vito looking like a lost and traumatized little boy and bit his lip. “I- I really have no excuse. You’ve gone through so much and Joe and I…we will probably never understand what you’ve gone through, but all of what you said isn’t true. Joe cares about you and so do I. I will admit that in this lifestyle, getting close to anyone is asking for hurt, but you honestly did not deserve ANYTHING that happened to you. You are the one that tends to be able to reign Joe in when I can’t.”

Vito wiped his eyes but more tears spilled out as he hid his face in his hands and started to let out years of repressed trauma in loud, ugly sobs as Henry continued to stroke his back. He knew that Eddie would be pissed that he was late, but right now, his friend needed him. “Just let it all out Vito. You’re safe here.” he soothed as Vito sobbed harder.

Emotionally drained, Vito slumped against the window and gazed blankly out the glass as Henry continued towards his place, knowing that Vito did not need to be alone, especially with his concerning words from before. After bringing Vito’s bag inside, the man lingered awkwardly by the door until Henry sat down a sandwich and a glass of water and patted the couch beside him.

The radio played softly in the background as Vito scarfed down the meal and chugged the glass of water. “Easy Vito. You’ll throw up otherwise.” Henry chided softly as Vito slowed down some. After the plate was empty, Vito curled up in a ball and stared at the wall. Henry draped a blanket over him and continued to stroke his back as Vito finally fell asleep and once he was certain he wouldn’t awaken, made sure the doors and windows were locked and covered before taking his seat again and resumed stroking, occasionally running his fingers through Vito’s hair as he silently prayed.

#henry/vito #;sal writes #mafia 2 #henry tomasino #vito scaletta #angst #hurt/comfort #let Vito destroy Empire Bay block by block your honor #he deserves it #oops this got long but like #I relate to Vito so damn hard it’s scary #i just wanna fight everyone who hurt my baby bean #me🤝Vito/ repressed trauma #also Vito just makes me damn right feral sometimes like I want to murder for him #mafia trilogy

8 notes · View notes

bomber-grl · 7 months

Text

SAL FISHER RELATIONSHIP HC ! ₊˚⊹

₊˚⊹ PAIRING(s): Sal fisher x Gn!reader

He’s so sweet it hurts

Honestly, Sal is the best boyfriend ever, he’s always there for you and he always knows the perfect things to say when comforting you.

The two of you met because of the ghosts and the whole cult thing while at high school.

You were the more outspoken one out of the two of you since Sal was mostly against violence even when Travis was brought into the convo.

I can definitely see Sal being the first one to approach you.

It all started when Sal started becoming increasingly interested in you to the point that Larry and even ash started teasing and encouraging him to talk to you.

He would fluster, occasionally and say the wrong words out of nervousness however with luck, he managed to get your number.

It was hard not to fall for him, especially with how lovable he is.

He’s so genuinely nice and actually cares for others.

Of course, you eventually see his face, and although he was neutral about it since he trusted you he was still a bit nervous.

Definitely warms his heart when you not only accept his face but also kiss it.

He flusters and stutters so badly afterwards.

Continuing from that, he’s definitely the type to tease lightheartedly

Definitely not in the beginning though

So when you first started teasing and provoking him, causing him to get super flustered

He wouldn’t really know what to do except accept it, so imagine your surprise when he turns the tables once day and makes you a blushing mess

Most times when you hang out, you usually hang at the apartments in his room, or when sals an adult you’d hang out in his room in the house

During these hang outs you guys would usually listen to some music or just enjoy each others presence

Most times it’s just you and sal cuddling and ngl he smells rlly good

Like I’m not even joking and when you mention this, he can’t help but laugh and just tells you do too

However, when you guys hang out with Larry (which is more often than not) you guys end up in more than sus situations 😭😭

The. Larry is all like “I’ll leave you guys at it” and dips

Like??? We’re not doing anything 😭🗣️

Anyway

While you’re at high school ofc Travis has something to say, and if you’re a guy then he obviously calls you the f slur and a lot of homophobic nonsense

And if you’re a girl Travis still calls y’all homos in a negative way, and always says shit about you two

And I don’t think I need elaborate further about how Travis would probably hate crime you if you were non-binary, gender fluid, or basically anything under the trans umbrella

(Basically any gender identity that isn’t your assigned one 😭

Larry, ash, and Todd all get pissed at Travis , and they always come to the both of your guy’s defense

And ofc Sal is bit lenient towards Travis, well only ever when Travis is talking shit about him

If Travis talks shit about you he’d be pissed

But ofc younger Sal is less violent and more open so he’d obvs be kinder

Anyway, we all know what happens at the apartments and if you live there-

Let’s just say it pains Sal so much to have to kill you

I mean him having to kill all the people he grew up with and the people he cares for is horrible but he knows he has to

However, if you don’t, well let’s say you know about the cult and why he did it

Still doesn’t stop you from trying to find a way to get a lower sentence and from trying the convince ash of the truth

When sal dies, let’s just say you feel so alone

Of course you have ash by your side but it’s just horrible

Eventually you’re the person that sals soul would enter and you’d defeat the cult that way

But let’s all pretend that they were able to defeat the cult without having to kill the innocent tenants

Making sal a free man

Well if it were that way, you and Sal would be together for a long time, and if you both wished it, married too

———

Art credits : @/toasterdoodle22

1K notes · View notes

reiderwriter · 9 months

Note

Hi!!! I really love your writing 🥺 Idk how this works so Idk if my request is alright so If it's ok for you to write it, I got this idea about Spencer turning into a player/manwhore after maeve died so he's not into y/n in the beginning but the others always joke about how she's totally in love with him and he doesn't believe until he starts to notice little things she does for him(like getting him coffee every morning, remembering everything he says) so he start to fall for her. Genre: smut with soft!Dom Spencer, dirty talk, degradation(please no daddy kink) (Sorry if it's to long, I read it's best for you if we give as much detail as possible so that's that) I'm going to identify myself with this emoji 🥺 when I read the fic or in my next requests, hope I gave you something to write with.

A/N: Thank you for the request and omg this plot has given me brain rot since you sent it in 💀 I accidentally made this a little angst-heavy for the first half but there's a very "happy ending" if you catch my drift. I hope you love it! ❤️

Summary: Spencer Reid's heart is broken. But in healing himself in the arms of countless woman, he doesn't realise he's breaking yours.

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, angst, oral (F receiving), fingering, P in V penetration, dirty talk, degradation of you squint a little, soft!Dom Spencer is incredibly soft.

My masterlist with all my other works is here, and my requests are open!

It had taken four whole months before someone on the team had confronted Spencer about his grief, his lack of sleep, his overall dreariness, and they were almost shocked that it wasn’t you that did it. When Rossi had walked up to him, offering a story about his Uncle Sal in an attempt to get him to open up, or at least seek help, the others were on the other side of the glass, shooting looks over at you, quietly enquiring with their eyes about why it hadn’’t been you to offer him that out.

But you had, you’d been trying. You’d been following him around, taking him food every couple days to make sure he was eating, sticking around to make sure that he wasn’t lonely. You’d even cleaned up after him on the particularly hard days, where he didn’t want to move from his bed and couldn’t bring himself to go outside if there was no work, no one else to save. But you couldn’t offer him more, because he already had all of you.

You’d first realised that you were in love with Spencer Reid a few months after you’d joined the team. You’d been bought on as a fresh set of eyes on a case that had a lot more to do with you then the rest of the team had been led to believe.

Your high school boyfriend had been the victim of a notorious highway murderer, and you yourself had been kidnapped by the unsub, put in hell for the following three days and escaped with your life only because of an earlier BAU team, including agents Hotchner and Rossi. When bodies had started turning up on the same stretch of highway, you needed to be involved or you’d never prove to yourself that you could do what they did to save you. That you’d be able to put your feelings aside and catch monsters.

You’d found the man responsible of course, and in restraining yourself from putting a bullet in his brain, you’d found yourself a place on the team, and some peace for a time. And then Spencer happened.

You really should have known. You were always fond of the nerdy type, of men who had such deep interests that they forgot to pay attention to social queues, who had too many cute habits (like purposefully mismatching socks) that you couldn’t help but find endearing. You’d grown close quickly, with the man grateful that there was finally someone to listen to him ramble and not judge him, and you grateful that he also held himself back enough, listened closely and well to remember so many details about your conversations. You knew an eidetic memory helped, but it was the care in the small actions, like buying you the beanie baby you lost as a child but still mourned, that you’d mentioned in conversation a grand total of one time, that really solidly made you realise. You were in love with him and had dug yourself a hole that you weren’t going to be able to climb out of anytime soon.

You’d almost told him once. Convinced that if you just explained your feelings, he’d suddenly feel the same or realise that he felt the same way, too. You’d opened your mouth to let the words run freely, but he beat you to it.

“I’ve met someone, and she’s totally brilliant and I think I might love her, and that must be an insane thing to say considering I’ve never even seen her face.” You’d willed the broken pieces of your heart together as you forced a smile on your face, ready to listen to the man who owned your heart smile for another, live for another, breath for another.

When Maeve had ultimately passed away, you knew that you’d never be able to say those words to him. You weren’t going to be the replacement for a dead woman, and you weren’t going to push those feelings on him when he was grieving. But you loved him and he needed you, so you stayed.

On the nights where he was so angry with the world that his words were biting, on the days where he said almost nothing so trapped inside his brain, in the hours between dusk and dawn where there was no rest for him, wiping away the tears that fell silently and just being as near to him as he needed.

You had some experience in broken hearts, anyways. You might as well put it to good use.

–X–

It had taken five whole months since Maeve’s death for the team to realise that Spencer was changing. He was still the same person intrinsically, ready to spring into a conversation about absolutely anything and everything that interested him at the drop of a hat, still debating with Penelope about which of them was smarter, still being teased in that playful way by Morgan. But there was a confidence to him now that was almost dangerous in the fact that it was uncharted territory for him.

You’d noticed it first on one of your regular coffee runs. The two of your were so serious about your coffee tasting like anything but actual coffee that you’d bonded over the need for a sweet treat, and had been going for coffee before all of your office shifts almost since you’d started. You were glad to have him finally back by your side, making stupid jokes about how many philosophers it would take to change a lightbulb, and actually smiling and laughing with you that you almost didn’t notice anything amiss.

But when the barista who took his order carefully slipped him her number - something she’d been doing for the whole six months you’d been frequenting that cafe - for once, he hadn’t thrown it away. He’d taken a lingering look at the digits inked neatly into the napkin and quietly slipped it into his pocket. You were confused to say the least, but since that night of your almost confession, there had been a boundary between you two in that sense.

It was almost as if, if you didn’t ask questions about Spencer’s love life, it was like he wasn’t out there, being in love. With Maeve it had worked fine because he’d never met her, and honestly, until you’d started trying to save her he hadn’t brought her up a lot. But now, you were too afraid to break your own heart again to check up on him, deciding to let it go for your own well-being.

The others had noticed soon enough. Comments about a pep in his step, his flirtacious manner with some of the female witnesses. He’d gained a few claps on the back from Morgan after closed off conversations that you had decided you were thankful not to have heard.

Because if you never saw or heard what Reid was doing, and apparently doing with multiple women, multiple times a week, then it couldn’t hurt you anymore than you were already hurting now.

–X–

It took seven months from Maeve’s death to realise that you were only fooling yourself this entire time.

Despite his new-found release, the therapy he’d found in the beds of women whose names he never learnt, there was one thing that you could still rely on with Reid, and that was your Friday night Star Trek watch-along.

You’d mentioned once a few weeks into your job that you’d never seen it before, and he’d had this absolutely starry-eyed look on his face in bewilderment, that when he’d half-heartedly suggested you watch it together, you’d leapt at the chance. Since there was so much of it, here you were over a year later, still keeping to that Friday night ritual. You’d watched it together in motels in the middle of nowhere, you’d watched it together over the Christmas holidays, you’d watched it together in the days directly after Maeve’s death, and tonight was supposed to be no different.

You pulled up to his apartment and knocked on the door, and when you couldn’t immediately hear him shout to “come in” from his kitchen as he was preparing the popcorn, you knew that something was wrong. His door was always unlocked, and he laughed at your habit of knocking on the door, insisting that you could just walk in anytime you needed.

Now that you needed to, your hand seemed heavier than ever. You gripped the cold metal of the handle, knowing exactly what you would find on the other side of the door, but still wanting to live in the clear denial of it. You prayed it was something else keeping him distracted.

You let yourself in and were welcomed with the sight that shattered your heart for the final time. There were clothes scattered across the floor, male and female. Shoes discarded in the heat of the moment. You didn’t want your eyes to follow, but your feet weren’t listening as they walked you to the bedroom door, thrust wide open, and you saw him there finally.

“Shit, Y/N, what are you doing here?” he scrambled to pull his clothes back on, to cover whatever woman it was underneath him that day, to make sure you didn’t see anymore of the image that would be burned into the back of your brain for the rest of your life.

You couldn’t say anything. You knew that he had been doing this, doing it to cope, doing it to move on, doing it to feel a sense of intimacy after he didn’t get that with Maeve. But here was the irrefutable proof that he’d never even looked at you with an ounce of the feeling you had for him. You held up the bag of snacks you usually bought to your Trek marathons as a response, the tears filling up your eyes rendering you mute as you finally tore yourself out of the room.

“Oh god, it’s Friday. I didn’t realise…. I’m sorry, can we do a raincheck, Y/N?” He guided you further out of the room, placing a hand to the small of your back to help move you along. Something in you snapped then and you recoiled from his touch, whipping your head up to him and just staring at him with all the defiance you could muster. He had broken your heart, you weren’t going to let him dismiss you that quickly.

“Y/N, why are you crying? What’s wrong, what happened? Tell me and I’ll do everything I can to fix it.” He finished his words, and made to wipe the tears from your face, but you slapped his hands away from you before he could make contact.

“Don’t… just don’t touch me, Spencer.” Those were the only words you could offer in explanation before you turned on your heel and ran straight out of his apartment for the last time.

–X–

It took one month from you storming out of his apartment for Spencer to realise that he hadn’t dreamt of Maeve in the same amount of time. Where his dreams had been full of her asking him to dance, they were now full of you recoiling from his touch, refusing to speak to him outside of your professional work, withdrawing into yourself and crying. The worst ones were the ones where you were crying because he tried desperately to hold you, to wipe the kisses away, but everytime he tried you moved further and further from his reach.

It had been a month of you ignoring him, and he still didn’t know what went wrong. Yes, you’d caught him in bed with a girl, but you knew he was doing that. You’d known from the start, and he’d known that you’d known, so surely it wasn't just that.

Morgan wasn’t helping him on that front either. He’d explained the awkward run-in in his apartment, desperate for some answers and received some pretty curt replies.

“Pretty boy, if you don’t realise what you did wrong, then there’s nothing I’m going to do to help you. You’re on your own until then.” He’d refused to talk about it anymore.

He’d thought a few times about talking to the girls on the team, but you’d been partnered with JJ for the last month on cases to avoid him, and there was a bond there between the two of you that he didn’t want to overstep.

It was in this confusion that Rossi found him again, taking pity on the boy wandering around like a lost puppy in the absence of your friendship.

“Kid, what is up with you again recently?”

“Y/N has been avoiding me, and I don’t know why. Derek said it was my fault because she… well she walked in on something that I’d rather she hadn’t, you know, and I don’t know why she still won’t talk to me because it’s been a month.” He rambled out, thankful that someone was finally hearing him out.

“If I’m understanding your insinuation here, I think I know what the problem is.” Rossi sat back, choosing his words carefully, so as not to startle the younger man. But he was so worked up all over you, missing your voice, your touch, your company, and just wanting you back in whatever way he could get you that he jumped at the very suggestion of answers.

“Then please, tell me, I’m begging you. I’ve been tearing my hair out trying to figure out what it is and I just miss her so much that it hurts.”

“Spencer, you know I usually don’t get involved in the personal lives of my coworkers, but just listen to me now, nice and calmly - and dont try to interrupt me or say a word. I know what I’m talking about, okay?” He gave a quick nod of his head, waiting with baited breath for Rossi to continue.

“The girl is in love with you. Head over heels, in fact, and has been for quite some time. And she was holding it together real nice until you decided to become this casanova and now she is heartbroken,” Spencer looked like he was about to interrupt, to spew out that that couldn’t possibly be the case, but Rossi silenced him with a look. “If you don’t believe me, you use that memory of yours and you do what you do best. Think about it.”

–X–

For the next three months, that was all Spencer did. He thought about every interaction you’d ever had. The blush on your cheeks when he’d introduced himself for the first time (and refused to shake your hand). The countless nights spent curled up on opposite sides of his couch, laughing and crying together at silly sci-fi shows. The way you’d thrown yourself into his arms after a particularly gruelling case, buried your head in his chest instead of anyone else's. The day you’d finally confessed your past to him, how he’d felt your heart beating as he held a finger to your pulse, hand gently holding yours waiting for you to finish describing the time you’d stared death in the face.

You’d noticed the change, but you wouldn’t let yourself acknowledge it fully. Noticed how he’d shoot you lingering glances from across the room, how he’d look like he had something to say when you announced you were leaving for the night. How he’d ask everyone together what their friday night plans were just to hear you admit that you were going home alone in the company of the rest of the team.

You’d noticed, and god had it given you a spark of hope that you wished would die quickly. You’d noticed, and so you weren’t as surprised when he turned up on your doorstep four months after you’d last talked to him, on another friday evening.

“What are you doing here?” you greeted him, the words coming out colder than you wanted them to seem, inwardly cursing yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you.

“Don’t make me leave, please, I just have something to ask and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Spencer, it’s been a long day, and I just want to go to bed so-”

“Do you still love me?” His words cut you off and your heart all but stopped. Your tongue grew heavy, and the inside of your mouth tasted acidic, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to fully stomach whatever conversation was coming.

“Excuse me?” you spluttered out eventually.

“Three months ago, Rossi said that you were in love with me, and I need to know that if that was the case, are you still in love with me now?” You expected some cold curious look to be gracing his face, but you looked up to see his eyes perfectly trained on your own, his mouth set in a line, a look of stony determination set on his face.

“If I say yes, what difference does that make?” you tried not to spit out the words, but you had no control over the venom in your heart.

“If you say yes, then I am going to kiss you, and then I am going to spend every last day I have on the planet making up for being an idiot for the last two years.” Your breath caught in your throat, and, not for the first time in front of Spencer Reid, you were stunned into silence.

“So, what is your answer?” He looked down at you again, and you started to see the cracks in his stony facade, started to see through to the man who desperately wanted you to say yes, to scream it at him.

The word hadn’t even fully formed on your tongue before he was crashing down into you, his mouth pleading for forgiveness and wrapping you up in him. He grabbed you and pulled you back into your apartment, whispering into each of your kisses.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” The two of you stumbled into the space, but he never moved his hands from the sides of your face, cupping your cheeks gently as his lips brushed against yours again and again.

Your legs gave way beneath you by the time you’d reached the open space of your living room, but instead of catching you, he fell to his knees with you, content for the two of you to just sit there together in each other's embrace.

“You’ve loved me this entire time, and I was too stupid to realise that you’re everything I need.” He kissed your mouth, your jaw, your neck, moving his hands from your face to your waist, pulling you in deep again as you desperately pulled away in search of breath. That only toppled you further to the ground, and he came down on top of you again as well, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head so you didn’t hurt yourself.

And you kissed him back just as fervently when your breath returned, listening to every apology and forgiving him with every touch. His kisses said “I’m sorry,” and yours said “I know,” and that was all the communication you needed for now.

He pulled your shirt over your head eventually, and your skin met the cold tile of the floor, a shiver running up your spine causing you to buck your hips up into his. He hissed at the contact and pushed his bodyweight down further into yours, his legs slotting perfectly between your splayed ones now.

“It took me too long to realise, and it has taken me too long to act on the knowledge, but I am not going to let you go again, do you understand?” he pushed his lips into yours again before you could respond, and you clawed into his shoulders as he started grinding down into your body. His hand trailed up your waist to your breasts, pulling them free from the constraints of your bra, as he let his tongue slide down from your neck to your chest.

“I need to hear you say it baby, need you to say you understand, can you do that for me?” Your body burned under his attention, back arching desperately for more contact as his tongue swirled your nipple into his mouth, gasping breaths loud enough to fill the empty air of your apartment. His stiff cock was firmly pressing against your core now, barely clothed in the pajamas you’d pulled on before his arrival.

“Spencer, yes, I need you, I need you right now, please,” grabbed at either side of his face and pulled him back up so he was face to face with you. You initiated the kiss this time, and you could feel your heart soar at the tender kiss he met you with, thankful for the reciprocation.

“Not yet, baby, not yet, okay?” he whispered in your ear, trailing his hands down to your centre and slipping his hand under your clothes. “So fucking wet for me, baby. Just for me, right, baby?” His fingers found your clit, and he started rolling it between his fingers. He worked slowly enough to drive you insane, but giving you just enough relief that you couldn’t complain.

“Yes, Spencer, yes, yes it’s all for you. Only for you,” you managed to gasp out. He shifted his hand after a few minutes, still pressing love bites down your chest, claiming you as his in the most animalistic way possible. He spread the wetness that pooled at your core around, making sure that his fingers were coated in you before pushing a single digit into your aching hole, thumb continuing to draw circles around your bundle of nerves.

“That’s my little slut, so desperate for me, so needy for me.” His words shot through you, and you started thrusting your hips up desperate for more friction with his hand. He roughly pushed you back down, pinning you under him with his free hand.

“No, baby, I’m in charge here. You sit back and relax and let me make you feel good,okay?” His words soothed you, the growing heat in the pit of your stomach fizzing in anticipation. His kisses dropped lower and lower, until he was finally pulling off your remaining clothing and replacing his thumb with his lips.

“Fuck Spencer, if you keep doing that, I’m going to-” another sharp intake as he pumped a second finger in and out of you.

“Going to what, baby? Use your words?”

“I’m going to cum, Spencer please, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum.,,” you rode out your high with his face stuffed between your legs still, swallowing your loud moans for fear of the entire neighbourhood knowing just how obsessed you were with this man.

“You did so good for me, baby, so good. I love you so much, okay? I’m going to take care of you from now on, okay?” He began pressing kisses to your mouth again, and you could taste yourself against him now.

“I need you so badly, baby, are you going to let me have you?” He started pulling off his own clothing now, removing his shirt and tie, but never once leaving your embrace for too long.

“I love you so much, baby. I’m sorry for not realising before, but I realise now. I was so terrible to you after Maeve, and god, even before she died I was using you as a therapist to talk through my thoughts and fears, but I was too dense to even realise that I was only in love with Maeve because she was safe. I couldn’t meet her, couldn’t touch her, didn’t have the chance to ruin anything I had with her. I couldn't realise that she wasn’t you, that she wasn’t going to feel like you do in my arms. And maybe some part of me loved her, but we were using each other, and I was using her to avoid confronting how I felt about you.”

“And how I feel for you is different. I am obsessed with you, Y/N. I am so madly in love with you that the last four months have felt like hell. I could have emptied myself of all the blood in my body and still my heart would be beating for you. Do you understand?”

You answered in a chaste kiss on his lips, sweet and quick, but as much as you could muster without driving yourself to the brink of insanity getting yourself high on his touch.

“Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want now, okay?” He’d unbuttoned his pants shortly after that and you stared transfixed at the head of his cock poking up and out of them, desperate to see it, touch it, taste it.

“I need you inside of me, Spence, please,” you cried out, tears welling in your eyes at the tender contact, the confession. All the emotions you’d been burying for the last four months bubbling to the surface, dancing around your head as he made you dizzy with desire.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” with the last of his clothing removed he was finally free, taking his heavy,aching cock in his hand and lining himself up with you. With a single thrust, and another confession of love, he gave you what you wanted so much.

“You wanted me like this, baby? So desperate to have my cock inside you?” he plagued you with questions as you adjusted to his size, watching your face for any discomfort as you mumbled out yes after yes.

“Me too, baby. I wanted you just like this, wanted you so desperate and dripping for me that I could slide right in, wanted you like this for me and only me.” He began thrusting then, slowly pumping his cock into you, heavy with each return, the sound of skin slapping against skin joining the ensemble of your moans.

“I love you,” he said again, and with each thrust of his hips, and you responded in kind, matching his thrusts with your own and pressing a kiss into the skin of his shoulders. You were so desperate and needy, so starved of touch and starved of one another that neither of you lasted long. Your bodies were so in sync that as soon as he’d pushed you over the edge for a second time, you could feel him spill himself inside you, filling you completely.

He rolled off you, but didn’t leave you there, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. He cleaned you up as much as possible, then folded you back into his arms, holding you again so tenderly that you let the tears flow down your cheeks for a final time.

It was Friday night, and he was here, and he loved you. You weren’t going to let him go again.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #criminal minds smut #requested #🥺 Anon

2K notes · View notes

vmpyria · 18 days

Text

— SAL FISHER X READER: a night spent together.

romance! i love sal dearly, so this is just a self indulgent drabble, it has a bit of suggestive content at the end, but nothing major! reblogs & kind replies always help motivate me to keep writing! if you want to drop a scenario, drabble, or writing idea for sally face — come to my inbox !!

“you’re so handsome,” you said calmly, looking at him with a smile. sal stared back at you, it was night time, the bedroom light was dim and comfortable.

the year was 1996, you and sal had graduated high school the year prior. the two of you have been together since junior year, and even and the years passed, he adored you the same way as he did when he first started going out with you.

given the time, you two were in your pajamas. sal wore simple baggy grey sweats and a lose wife beater shirt. you, on the other hand, wore one of sal’s t-shirts, it was a bit long as it reached your thighs and you didn’t care on wearing pants. you simply had some panties on and nothing more. you two were comfortable.

sal’s prosthetic was off, you could see his heavily scarred features, he has taken out his glass eye a few moments ago.

he looked away after you complimented him and let out a small laugh.

“you don’t have to lie.” he replied simply, though he smiled.

rolling your eyes, you shook your head in disagreement. “wrong!” you said, patting his thigh. “you’re the prettiest boy i’ve ever seen.” you continued, sal shook his head.

“baby, my face is fucked, just because we’re together doesn’t mean you have to say that.” he said, looking back at you.

pursing your lips, you squinted and a silence came between the two of you again.

sal just stared at you as you stared at him with squinted eyes, a lopsided smile came to his lips as he waited for your next move.

“wrong!” you said again, this time your hands moved to cup his face. you stared at him with a toothy smile.

“you’re so pretty;” you said again, “and nothing you say will change my mind.” your voice statement way firm. “even if your face is scared, i think you’re pretty still. my pretty boy.” you gushed.

sal’s face heated up at your words, a bit embarrassed by your words. he was flustered, a groan left his lips while he made eye contact with you.

you felt this heat fire up in your chest, one that you only felt when you were with sal. you were so deeply in love with him, it almost hurt.

leaning down, you pressed a gentle kiss against his scarred cheek. sal moved his hands, placing them on your hips before pulling you close. he leaned in and pressed his chapped lips against yours.

moving your arms, they wrapped around his neck, your bodies pressed together comfortably as your lips stayed connected.

the kiss was soft, romantic.

after a bit, sal pulled away, he took in a deep breath and simply leaned into your neck. you let out a soft hum, your eyes shutting blissfully while his hands slipped under your shirt.

sal’s hands traveled up your waist, up to your chest.

you let out a soft sigh.

letting yourself fall back on your bed, sal rested above you, his lips now pressing against your neck.

sal’s tongue licked up your neck, his lips wrapping around your skin before he sucked, wanting to leave marks on your skin.

“sal.” you gasped, a smile coming to your lips as his eager hands slipped down to your thighs.

a hum came from him, acknowledging your call for him. “you’re so eager.” you laughed, sal pulled away from your neck and stared down at you.

his gaze as focused on you, a small smile coming to his lips as he indulged in your pretty laughs.

“very.” he simply replied before leaning back down and pressing his lips against yours again — this time with a bit more force behind his touch.

you squealed and kissed back with the same eagerness he had, your arms quickly wrapping around his neck before your fingers found themselves tangled in his pretty blue hairs — your legs wrapped around his waist.

#sally face x y/n #sally face x you #sal fisher x you #yandere sally face #sal fisher x y/n #sal fisher x reader #sally face smut #sally face x reader #sally face #sal fisher

238 notes · View notes

sidekick-hero · 2 months

Text

"He probably thinks I don't love him, Robin. Which is... ridiculous. I do! I really, really do. I just can't say it." Steve is pacing around the blissfully empty Family Video Store, his hands making a mess of his hair as they run through it in frustration.

"This is so stupid. I* am* so stupid, it's just four stupid letters, even a preschooler can say it," he rambles, his eyes wild as they look at Robin. "Why am I like this, Robbie?" His voice breaks, along with his heart, at the thought of Eddie doubting Steve's feelings for him for even a second.

Robin walks over to him and grips his shoulders tightly, her blue eyes boring into his as she says in her firmest you-listen-to-me-now voice. "You're not stupid. This is my best friend you're talking about, so watch it." That earns her at least a half-smile, which counts as a victory considering Steve was already pinching his nose to hold back tears.

"I know you love him, Steve. Everyone knows it. One look at you when he's in the room, or even when you're just talking about him, is enough to know you love him. And I'm sure Eddie knows it too. He has to."

Robin's words soothe some of the fear in Steve's heart, knowing that she would tell him if she really thought he had messed up. But even though it's okay now, Eddie won't wait forever for Steve to say those three little words. No one would. Steve knows that his heart couldn't take being with Eddie, loving Eddie and telling him that, only to never hear it back from him.

"I don't know. Even if you're right, I feel like I'm losing him. That something in me is broken, and one day he'll realize that too, and then he'll leave." With an even smaller voice Steve adds: "I can't lose him, Robbie".

They don't hug very often. Robin shows her affection in many ways, but most of them aren't overly physical. That's Eddie's job, clinging to Steve like a koala most days, always touching Steve in some way, even if it's just his shoulder nudging Steve's. Robin pulling him into a tight hug now means a lot to him, but it's also a testament to the gravity of the situation.

With their arms around each other between the horror and action movie sections, Steve takes a moment to just soak in the comfort she offers. What happened at Starcourt messed them both up, caused them both more trauma than any teenager should have to deal with, but on a very selfish level, Steve can't help but be grateful that it happened. A life without Robin Buckley sounds like the greater horror to him.

After a few minutes, Robin gently pulls away from Steve to look at him. He's reluctant to let her go, even though he knows this is an even longer hug than the one she gave him when Nancy told him they weren't getting back together after defeating Vecna. She wanted to go to Boston, make a career, see the world. And Steve? Steve wanted a home, a place to belong, and someone to share that home with. They wanted different things, he realizes now.

That doesn't mean it didn't open old wounds, memories of how it felt to be rejected by her, his love for her thrown in his face like it was worthless. Bullshit.

As attuned to him and his thoughts as ever, a true testament to the fact that they share a brain cell, Robin says, "I think it's understandable that you can't say it. The last time you told someone you loved them, you were hurt, badly. Your heart is probably just trying to protect itself. Like a kid who touched a hot stove and got burned wouldn't touch another stove, you know?"

Steve nods, because in a way it makes sense. It just doesn't help him to know.

"But what am I supposed to do, Robin? It's not Eddie's fault that I'm broken."

"You, Steve Harrington, are not broken. Just a little bruised. There is nothing wrong with you just because you got hurt and have the scars to show for it. Like Max, because of the injuries to her leg, she cannot walk like she used to before Vecna, so she uses her crutch. She's not broken. Is she?"

"No, of course not. If anything, she's even stronger now, I saw her hit Lucas with the crutch and tell him to hurry up on the way to the movies," Steve says, smiling at the memory.

"See!" Robin waves her hand at him in excitement, almost bouncing with it. "All you need is a crutch!"

They look at each other wide-eyed before matching smiles break out on their faces, Robin's giddy at having found a solution, Steve's reflecting the tentative hope blossoming in his chest.

His talk with Robin certainly helped, but as Valentine's Day approaches, the fears and insecurities start to creep back in. It's not even like Eddie is giving him any indication that he's not happy with Steve or their relationship. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Eddie tells him he loves him almost every time they see each other, at the most random moments. Some days he whispers it in Steve's ear to wake him up, other days it's his way of saying good night to him with his arm around Steve's waist and his hand over Steve's heart in a protective grip. He says it casually when Steve brings him breakfast in bed or lunch to the record store where he now works. Just yesterday he said it while Steve was buried deep inside him, their hands intertwined beside Eddie's head and brown eyes looking softly up at Steve.

It's not meant to make him feel bad about himself, he knows that.

He still does.

So when he opens his front door to the sight of Eddie standing on his doorstep in his nicest jeans and a forest green button-down Steve has never seen before, clearly having put some real effort into his appearance, Steve almost crumbles.

He's a shitty boyfriend, isn't he? There's this amazing guy who goes out of his way to look nice for Steve, even though he doesn't even like Valentine's Day, just because he knows it's important to Steve. And he can't even tell him he loves him.

Some of what he's feeling must be showing on his face, because Eddie's cheerful smile falls and he hurries into the house to pull Steve into his arms, slamming the door shut with his foot.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry, I told Dustin green wasn't my color, but he insisted. I look hideous, don't I?"

That makes Steve snort wetly into Eddie's neck before muttering a fond "Idiot" into it.

Eddie just hums, obviously pleased with himself for making Steve laugh. "You can tell me. You know I don't mind getting naked for you."

"You're getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you?"

Eddie grinned wolfishly at him. "I don't know, the tear in my Hellfire shirt from when you ripped it off me begs to differ."

Steve blushes at the memory, even as he laughs at Eddie's words. Instead of saying anything else, Steve pulls him back into his arms and Eddie goes willingly.

"Hi, baby," he says, his nose brushing behind Steve's ear.

"Hi." Steve breathes him in, the smell of cigarette smoke and his shampoo strong where his nose is buried in Eddie's hair.

They don't let go for a long time.

It's Eddie who pulls back first, and Steve does his best not to read into it. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

The Steve from before the Upside Down would have just shaken his head and told Eddie that everything was fine before pulling him into the bedroom to reassure them both that it was. Not talking about his feelings, fears, and needs might have worked for hookups, but he learned the hard way that it doesn't work when you want to be in a relationship.

So Steve takes Eddie's hand and leads him over to the couch where they both sit facing each other. They don't let go of each other's hands.

"I know you're probably wondering why I haven't told you... why I haven't said it yet."

Eddie's eyebrows disappear behind his fringe. "It?"

Sighing, Steve watches his fingers run over Eddie's knuckles. "You know. That I love you."

"Oh."

It's hard to place Eddie's tone, and even harder to place the silence that follows, but it makes his knee jiggle with nerves and his stomach churn. Usually it's Eddie who tends to fill the silence between them when it feels too big, too heavy, but today it's Steve.

"It's not because I don't want to, I swear. It's just," another frustrated sigh, the hand currently not held by Eddie's rubbing over his face, "I just can't say it. And I am so, so sorry, because you deserve to hear it. Every day. But I can't... I can't. So I understand if you don't want to do this anymore. You deserve better, Eddie. You really, really do."

Eddie lets Steve's words settle between them, aching and raw, but he never lets go of Steve's hand.

"You're right," he finally says, and the sound of Steve's heart breaking is deafening to his own ears. Pinching his nose, he tries to take his hand back from Eddie, but his boyfriend (if he can still call him that) won't budge. "You're right about me wondering, Steve. But that was before."

Looking up, a frown forming between his eyebrows, Steve asks, "Before?"

"Before I realized that you do tell me that you love me, every day. You say it when you tiptoe around the trailer in the morning to make breakfast without waking me. You tell me every time you pack an extra blanket or sweater when we go to the quarry because you know I always get cold. I hear it loud and clear every time you bring me lunch, even though it means you waste most of your own lunch break driving around town. It's in the way you try so hard to make Wayne like you because you know how much that means to me, and in the way you hold me after another nightmare, and in the way you kiss me sometimes like there's nothing in the world you'd rather be doing, without it having to lead anywhere, just because you like kissing me."

Eddie scooted forward and bridged the gap between them by taking Steve's face in his hands.

"Steve, you've been telling me you love me for months with everything except words. I don't really need them. It's just a four-letter word."

And, fuck, now Steve is crying. Eddie wipes away his tears with his thumbs, and when that's not enough, he kisses them away with his lips.

Steve is so in love with him that he has no idea how the feeling even fits in his body.

"Damn," he chuckles wetly, "that means I didn't even have to find a crutch?"

Now it's Eddie's turn to look at Steve in confusion, clearly worried that his boyfriend might have lost his mind. "What crutch? Is this a sex thing?"

Laughing and shaking his head fondly, Steve raises his free hand to his head, palm facing Eddie. Then he brings his thumb, index finger, and little finger up, keeping his ring and middle fingers down, before moving his hand back and forth slightly.

"Robin came up with this. She said if I couldn't say the words with my mouth, maybe I could say them in a different way. I thought of trying sign language," Steve adds sheepishly.

Before he knows what's happening, Eddie is on top of him, pressing him into the couch with his body weight and showering his face with kisses.

"You're so smart," kiss, "and beautiful," kiss, "and wonderful," kiss, "and I love you so much." The last part is accompanied by a lingering kiss on his lips and Steve melts under it.

Even though he obviously didn't have to tell Eddie this way, Steve is glad that he did.

He also thinks it won't be long before he can say those words, too. If anyone can help him walk without a crutch, it's Eddie.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fluff #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 27 #love is just a 4 letter word #my writing

207 notes · View notes

bluechronicles · 2 months

Text

sal fisher ⟢ dating headcanons

NOTES ✦ i haven’t actually finished the game so maybe ooc sal, but i read a lot of sal x reader. i’ll finish the game after this post, lol.

PAIRING ✦ sal fisher x gender neutral!reader

sal is the sweetest boy ever! everyone says this, but he truly is. sal fully believes communication is key, and that it’s crucial in every relationship.

he’ll never try to make you feel left out or feel outcasted or indifferent based on any features or disorders you have. he personally knows what it feels like due to his incident and prosthetic, so he tries his best. let him know by words that you appreciate his efforts greatly!

sal loves doing small things, like holding your hand. he enjoys the comfort and touch, or maybe even just getting up and getting you water. hydration is great.

all this poor boy asks for is your love after <3

i feel like sal would go into dating someone who’s already seen his face, he’s that comfortable with them. you’d probably be apart of the gang, or just a close friend of his he met during a class. and if it’s when he’s a young adult, say you were a cashier. i don’t know.

if there’s one cute aspect of sal fisher, he gets very flustered around you.

even the slightest touches still make him feel like he’s on cloud nine, making him giggle and kick his feet like a schoolgirl.

valentine’s day was almost a week ago, so let’s kick in some v-day stuff in here.

sal is a very thoughtful boyfriend, but his mind almost blanks when it comes to valentine’s day. he’s not sure at all what to do, he knows what you like, he’s not worried about that. just how’ll you’ll react. he’s thoughtful, but he overthinks.

sal decides on making a basket, filled with your favorite chocolate/candy—or your favorite snacks. a teddy bear with it holding a heart shoved in there, laced with the words “love”.

valentines day is on a good sunny wednesday, everyones holding flowers or absolutely dejected after getting rejected by their crushes. not you, though. happily standing at your locker, not even caring if sal got you something.

he’s all you need! but him showing up timidly with his small basket of things, handing it to you shyly; it made you giggle and blush, taking it and inspecting it carefully.

he would be soo happy that you like it!

now, more general stuff, sal is a great boyfriend.

maybe it’s already been established, but he’ll get you whatever you want. oh, you want those cheetos? it’s done. want that extremely overpriced water that’ll hurt sal’s wallet immediately after its purchase? he’s got it in his hands. sal would almost literally go into debt for you, he’s down bad.

#sal fisher x reader #sal fisher #sally face #sally face x reader #sally face x you #sally face x y/n #sal fisher x y/n #sal fisher x you #x reader

172 notes · View notes

beababoobies · 3 months

Note

hiii :3 i saw you were askin for some sallyface requests, and i happen to be obsessed so. i am here ‼️‼️‼️🗣️🗣️

could you pretty please write a sal x gender neutral/fem (whichever you want!) reader, where sal mentions that he hasn’t had his first kiss yet so reader offers to be his?? super fluffy, maybe a first time seeing him w/out his prosthetic sprinkled in there, a bit of hurt/comfort? TY TY TY teehee 🫶🏼🤎🤎🤎

Hello my lovely! I will be using a gender neutral reader for this as my last req. was a fem reader! I hope you don't mind & I loved writing this!

First Kiss - Sal Fisher x GN!Reader

words: 0.9k

You were sitting on your apartment balcony with Sal, playing a couple card games to pass the time. Chatting then and now as you played, but mostly you doing the talking. Sal wasn't much of a Talker, but he was a lovely listener, which is exactly one of the things you loved so much about the soft blueberry haired boy. One of.

Some of the other many things you liked about him included, but not limited to, his pale skin littered with small red scarred-out patches, his fluffy orange Maine Coon, Gizmo, who would always come up and lay himself across your torso whenever you were laying on his living room floor, his piercingly blue fake eye and his greyed out real one, and the way he always knew what was wrong, how to help you, and what you needed. He wasn't a talker, no, but he was an observer.

Speaking of observing, you may or may not have been staring down at your hand of cards for the past minute or two while you thought about it in silence. He had just sat there, looking across at you silently while you lose yourself in your thoughts. You perked up with a sigh, placing a card on the pile.

"Sorry." You muttered quietly, taking a deep breath of the outside air, piercing your lips together as you let your eyes scan between your hand and the balcony floor, trying to decipher if Sal had swapped anything while you were lost in thought. "Have you ever been in a relationship? Like.. a romantic one?" He asks quietly, scanning over his hand a couple times, then his eyes went to yours, then, you swore, for a split second, to your lips, and back to the pile of cards, where he carefully placed a queen of hearts.

"Yeah, I suppose. Not very serious ones, didn't mean as much as I would've wanted them to." You respond, sighing out the last part of the sentence, looking up at him as you forfeit a card. "What about you?" you asked with a tilt of your head, trying to read his expression through his mask like you usually did. When his eyes weren't looking one way or another, it was completely impossible to discern what he may be thinking.

"Me? No. People have told me their friends fancied me as a joke before, though." He says flatly, taking another card from the pile and immediately discarding it. Looking away from his hand and properly up at you, leaning back a bit. You swallow thickly as you scan over the cards laid across the wood of your balcony, turning your attention from the game to him as well, nearly jumping out of your skin when you realize he was looking right back at you.

"No First kiss, then?" You ask with a curious tilt of your head, quietly waiting for an answer as you played with the cards in your hands, still keeping eye contact, but it was his turn to look away. He didn't say anything, just embarrasingly nodding to the floor. You nodded back in understanding, before blushing, swallowing whatever guilty you had left about this situation.

“you know, if you, just wanted to um, get it out of the way, I wouldn’t mind helping you out.” You say, admittedly a bit shakily as you force yourself to look at him in the eyes again. He doesn’t respond for a good minute, staring at the card pile, before nodding slowly, not saying a word, or even looking up at you.

“Y-You’re gonna have to take off the mask, Sal.” You mutter softly, watching his hands make their way to the back of his head, hearing a small ‘click’ sound, watching him take the mask off. You probably looked stupid, sitting there just looking at him, blush spread across your cheeks. He didn’t look up for a while, but when he did, he had tears in his eyes.

“please don’t just stare like that.” He said, and the tiny crack in his voice as he spoke all so softly completely broke your heart as you leaned in, cupping his soft pale face in your hand, eyes trailing around the long strawberry scars on his face, breath hitching softly. “‘M sorry.” You mumble out quietly watching as his eye travels all over your expression anxiously, the other glass one staring straight back at you. “You’re just so pretty..” you mumble out, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours.

Kissing you like his life depended on it, almost desperate but so lovingly, his scarred upper lip pushing up against your full lips, your hands going to tangle in his hair, accidentally almost pushing him over as you climbed closer to him, kissing the boy you knew loved you back so dearly. You finally broke away for fresh air, breathing heavily as you held onto his shoulders, taking a moment before looking back at him.

“holy shit.” He muttered softly, hands on your waist as he looked up at you with wide eyes, trying to slow his own heartbeat and breathing, before leaning in and giving you a soft kiss on the cheek, pressing his forehead up against yours. “Why did it take me that long to kiss you?” He breathes out, and you chuckle softly, and he chuckles, and you’re both laughing so sweetly, and you’re in the arms of the boy you love so much. The arms of the boy who loves you more.

~~~~

sorry this was on the shorter side! I got my nails done for the first time and.. typing hard. :( but I hope you enjoyed and ur username is so cute teehee <;3

#sal fisher #sally face x reader #sal fisher x reader #sal fisher x y/n #sally face #sally fisher

185 notes · View notes

tawaifeddiediaz · 9 months

Text

BUDDIE + cliché romance tropes

(original poll)

(happy birthday @oneawkwardcookie <3 ily)

[Image ID: eight gifs of Buck and Eddie from 9-1-1. They are colored various hues, and overlaid on top is one post from a tumblr poll of cliché romance tropes.

GIF 1: Eddie and Buck standing across from each other in 3.03. Eddie watches Buck kindly while Buck looks over at Chris before shifting on his feet to meet Eddie's eyes. The gif is colored purple on Eddie's side, and yellow on Buck's. The poll text reads, "Symbolic pairs (Sun/Moon, Heaven/Earth, King/Queen, Fire/Ice, etc.). Overlaid on the purple side is a wallpaper with moon and stars, and on the orange side, various designs of suns

GIF 2: A blue-toned gif of Eddie wide-eyed in the truck in 4.14, asking Buck if he's hurt. There is orange-pink gradient text on the gif, reading "are you hurt?" and "no, no, no, I'm good." The poll text reads, "'Are you okay?' asked by the bruised and battered one/'Thank God you're okay'"

GIF 3: A rose-pink hued gif from 5.06. Eddie is blurred out, close to the camera, gaze fixed on Mitchell with his jaw tight and angry. Buck, in focus, has his hand hovering up after being struck, bleeding from the forehead as he turns towards Eddie, looking worried. The poll text reads, "'Who hurt you!?'/murderous rage upon finding the other beaten up (bonus if quiet)"

GIF 4: A sea-green colored gif of Buck and Eddie hugging as they make up in 3.06. Buck's head tucks against Eddie's shoulder happily. Overlaid are red hearts. The poll text reads, "Cool-down hug."

GIF 5: A purple gif of Eddie exasperatedly telling Buck that he's telling him about the legal guardianship because Buck believes it would be better if he'd been shot instead. Overlaid over the purple is faint repeating text with Eddie's dialogue from the scene, "Because, Evan, you came in here the other day and you said you thought it would have been better if it had been you who was shot. You act like you're expendable. But you're wrong." The poll text reads, "'You better not die on me'/Scolding the other for trying to sacrifice themself."

GIF 6: A red-toned gif, blended with Eddie gripping the rope in 4.05 to help lift the container off of Sal, and Buck digging at the ground in 3.15. There's text from multiple dialogues that read, "Buck can you hear me? / We gotta go dig. / Hang in there Buck / Eddie, Hang on! / Do more!" The poll text reads, "'I'll follow you into hell' but also 'don't go where i can't follow'"

GIF 7: A blue toned gif, two scenes - Buck in 6.12 sucking in a breath, head propped on a hand as he turns his gaze up at Eddie, telling him he doesn't know how he is; Eddie in 5.14, watching Charlie make the rounds on the horse, not believing he could have a hand in saving the kid's life. Overlaid the blue are multiple lightning strikes. The poll text reads, "Hurt/Comfort."

GIF 8: Eddie telling Buck he can have his back any day, blended with Buck telling him he could have his. On Eddie's side, the gif is pink, and on Buck's, a sea-green. The poll text reads, "'I've got your back'/battle couple/absolute trust"

/end ID]

567 notes · View notes

kaldurahms-lover · 10 months

Note

Hello, can I request Sal fisher x gn!reader, maybe a one shot about Sal showing y/n his face for the first time

AGH THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS I NEEDED AN EXCUSE TO WRITE IT WJSHSJHS

Pairing: Sal Fisher x Reader

Warnings: use of y/n, fluff, sal's face oops, i kinda fucked up the different tenses but i cannot be bothered to fix it, very minor swearing, not proofread.

Word Count: 773

A/N: takes place when Sal and the reader would be around 17 and have known each other for like two years

Sal knew he had to let y/n see his face at some point. They were the closest friend he had. (Larry doesn't count, Larry's family.) He knew in the back of his mind that it made no sense for the person he's closest to to be the last one in their friend group to see him without the prosthetic, hell, even Neil had seen him (i know in canon only his dad, larry, ash, and dr. enon have seen him. ssssshhh). He had no clue why he hadn't shown them besides his romantic feelings for them, they would never judge him. So when he heard them telling Todd how they felt like he didn't trust them...

"I just don't understand. It's his decision and I don't want him to show me if he isn't comfortable with it. But thats what hurts, is that he isn't comfortable with it. I love Sal, he's my best friend and I would do anything for him, I just can't help but feel like he doesn't trust me. And I know I sound terrible, being upset that someone I care about isn't ready to unpack their trauma with me, but I can't help it."

He knew something had to change.

Y/n was over within minutes, making the quick trip up from apartment 304. Sal ushered them into his room quickly, wanting to do this before his dad got home. They were obviously very confused, sitting down on his bed and asking if everything was okay.

"Do you think I'm uncomfortable around you?"

Y/n was taken aback by his blunt question. "Sal, what?"

"I heard you talking to Todd, y/n."

"Oh. Sal, I'm not upset with you, I didn't mean anything by it–"

He cut them off. "I know. I'm gonna ask again, do you think I'm uncomfortable around you?"

y/n gulped. "Sometimes I feel like maybe you don't. But who you take your prosthetic off around his completely your choice, I don't want you to do it just because you heard me say something to Todd, I want you to do it because you trust me and want me to see you."

"Thats the thing! I don't know why I don't want you to see me. You're my best friend, and I fucking love you, and you should've seen me years ago."

Y/n sighed. "It's okay. I promise it's okay."

Sal doesn't say anything, he just unclips his mask. Before Y/n can even realize what's happening, Sal's hand is the only thing holding his prosthetic against his face. He lowers it slowly, freely presenting his face, every scar, every bit of missing skin, the way it's now much more obvious that one of his eyes is also a prosthetic. His eyes are down, not wanting to see their reaction despite willingly removing his armor.

"Sal..."

"I know. It's not pretty."

y/n put their hands up and moved their head back as if offended. "Not at all what i was going to say. You're so pretty. In a very unconventional way... but theres nothing wrong with how you look. Can i..." Their hands reach out to cup his face, but they keep their distance until they have permission.

He nods and suddenly they're holding him so gently, as if they're afraid he might break under their touch. And as they softly caress his scarred skin, Sal melts. In fact, he gets so lost in the moment that it takes him a moment to realize they're talking to him.

"Sal? You still with me here?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah. Yeah I'm just... processing. No one's ever really had anything nice to say about me taking this off. I mean they've never had a huge problem but they haven't... they haven't reacted like this."

"Can I kiss you?" The question is sudden, purely formed from y/n thinking out loud. It takes everything in them react at how shocked Sal looks.

"What?"

"i'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or mess up us being friends–"

"No no no, y/n. Yes. Please. For the love of all things good, please."

"Really?"

"Really."

That was all the confirmation y/n needed before their lips were connected. It was awkward, considering the scar tissue and the fact that it was very obviously Sal's first kiss, but it was sweet. When they pulled back, y/n rested their forehead against Sal's.

They smiled. "Hi."

"Hi."

"This what you expected when you asked me to come over?"

"Hoped? Maybe. Expected? Never."

"Learn to expect this every time I come over now."

#x reader #sally face x reader #sal fisher x reader #sal fisher #sally face

892 notes · View notes

signed-loni · 4 months

Note

hi!! do you think you could to sal, larry, ash, and todds reaction to you having a broken bone? (rib, leg, arm, etc) thank you ! :)

Mwa ha ha ha ha….

I HAVENT POSTED A STORY AT ALL FOR LIKE 2 MONTHS SO HERE YOU GO

anyhoo any shoe, here you gooooo

warnings: cussing, broken bones (idk man could b a trigger)

🎭Sal🎮

So, you were just like…playing stupid games, and how did that end? You getting stupid prizes.

you were known against not only your family, but to your entire school for being a klutz.

you didn’t know what was wrong with you, you kinda just attracted accidents

so, it was no surprise that when you chose to climb a tree just for gits and shiggles, you fell down and broke your leg.

at first, all you could feel was shock. But then, it settled in.

you were screaming, crying, it was low key kinda sad..💀

JK you took that shi like a boss

not really

but sal and Larry heard you from larrysroom due to you being right in the back, climbing a tree close to the treehouse.

they rushed out, immediately going to your aid, Sal being the first to come up to you and tell Larry to call an ambulance.

he cradled you in his arms as you cried, you gripping onto his jacket, screaming his name

“fuck sal!! Please sally, please it hurts, it hurts it hurts! Fuck!”

all sal could do was run a hand through your hair and try and comfort you

“its gonna be okay my love, its gonna be okay”

waited in the waiting room the entire time you guys were at the ER

refused to leave without you

you walked out of the ER about an hour later with a cast on your leg and crutches

sally said you looked like slenderman with the crutches

made you feel a bit better.

🎸Larry🍃

what had happend was, you and larry were cruising around nockfell, doing stupid shit like ding dong ditch, getting a bunch of snacks and going behind the 7/11 you guys got them from to smoke, cute, rebellious highschool couple shit

until you guys went to the lake.

you and larry decided to try and walk on the ice at the lake, and when you got there, you didnt know how thick it was, so parry bet you 50 dollars to jump off the dock and on the ice

mind you, the dock is pretty high up from the water

so, you booked it to the dock, running up and and falling on the ice with FULL FORCE

you slipped back and landed on your arm, twisting it back and breaking it

you looked up from where you were to larry, and as he was laughing his ass off and walking toawrds you to help you, you look up at him and say “larry, i think I just broke my fucking arm”

larry looks dumbfounded

he stays like that until you rip a scream from your throat, not being able to contain the immense pain you felt in your arm

“Fuck!!”

larry shouts as he fumbles for his phone to call and ambulance and sal as quickly as he could

when the ambulance gets there, sal and larry are both panicking, they dont know wtf to do

you crying, shouting, and screaming, and theyve never seen you like this

when you get to the ER, larrys panicking, but like over things that arent even related to a broken arm

“dude what if her leg hurts!!” “larry, her arm is BROKEN.”

its was kinda funny

when you walk out, larry immediately runs up to you and hugs you as toght as he can. He was worried as FUCKKKKK

Sal runs up to you to, and also hugs you, hut not as tight

“next time larry, lets check how slippery the ice is before we test how hard it is”

💜Ash🥀

Decided to take you on a sledding date

yeah, NOT FUCKING FUN FOR U

Ash, bless her heart, had no idea what was going to happen. Poor girl just thought “hey its winter, how bout I take them on a snow related date!”

turns out the slop was too high, and TOO DANGEROUS

Because u guys didnt go to some a place that provided an area for sledding, you just found a tall slope and slid down it

turns out, you suck at sledding!

because not even a couple minutes after you went down, you lost control and fell out of your sled, rolling and tumbling down the hill, a lot of your weight going to your side and on top of your arm, and all you could hear was *CRACK* and also the very loud scream that erupted from your throat

Ash freaks the FUCK OUT when she hears you scream from behind her, you getting on your knees and just fuckin SOBBING

Couldnt stop, so she sled as fast as she could down the hill and ran like the fucking flash to tour side to ask what happend

“I f-fell-l off m-my sle-ed and fell a-nd i th-i-ink i b-broke my ar-r-rm” you said between sniffs and crys and quick breaths

Ash immediately calls 911 and is almost YELLING at the paramedics to get there already because shes fuckin WORRIED

paces around the waiting room cus shes nervous and feels like shit for being the reason of your pain (shes not but she cant help but feel like she is since shes the one who made u sled with her)

A while after the incident, she’s constantly trying to pay you back for being the “reason of your pain” when she was the exact opposite since she literally called the hospital and stuck with you the entire time?? Her logic is funny

🧡Todd🔍

(okay im gonna be 100 percent honest, Todd is just not my favorite to write for, for multiple reasons, so im gonna put him in a situation where he WASNT with u, and was just called up by sal or larry frantic on the phone like “uhhh, y/n broke a rib” or smth😭 )

Todd was minding his business, working mindlessly away on an essay and trying his hardest to ignore the STANK of weed in his apartment.

was almost done with his essay, when he gets a call from Larry saying “Dude! Y/n totally broke theyre fuckin leg!! Its in like a gnarly ass bent shape!! Like a fuckin triangle or some shit!” And then gets cut off by sal,-“Todd, you shouod probably come right now. Y/n had a totally freak accident and broke their leg. They probably want to see you”

Todds on the other end like “wtf just happend”

Regardless, speeds over to the hospital as auick as he can to see what happend and what Sal and Larry did to hurt his beloved partner

doesnt help sal or larry with homework for the next 3 months, or until you heal

A/N: OMFG IM SOOOO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO POST!! I feel bad cus i have so many things in my drafts🥲🥲 anyhoo hoped you enjoyed this!! Remember your not aline in your journey, and theres always someone u can talj to :)) Xoxo, loni

#sally face #sal fisher x reader #sally face x reader #sal fisher #sally face hcs #todd morrison hcs #todd morrison x reader #todd morrison #ashley campbell hcs #ashley campbell x reader

149 notes · View notes

ad0rebrial · 1 month

Note

Okay LOVED the Larry pegging fic!! Is it possible we can get a Sally pegging fic too?? (And I’d love if he was VERY submissive) thank you so much!! You’re a star! ⭐️

You know…I had a feeling that you were gonna come back and request a Sal version. I had that STRONG feeling Anon. Also, thank you! You’re very sweet!!!💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Art Credits go to Hyberboull (I miss them very much :(

TW:Pegging, vanilla sex, Gentle hair pulling, Dirty talk.

And of course, and obviously he is older!

As you caress his back, you lean in close and whisper softly in his ear, "Does that feel good, sweetheart?" Your voice is filled with tenderness and affection, and you can feel the warmth of his skin against yours. The intimate moment between the two of you is filled with love and care, and you cherish the opportunity to show him how much you care. Sal lets out a small whine on the pillow. He always got so bashful when these certain times come along when you two get very intimate. He’s always been like that though and you just adore him for it. You gently stroke at his beautiful head of hair before you tugged it a bit, earning a small yelp from Sal as he slowly turned behind him. “Use your words. How else will I know that you’re okay?” You asked softly.

“M’fine…” Sal mumbled out. He felt your fingers run along the straps of his mask ever so slightly.

“You know,” You started, gazing down at him. “You can take off your mask, honey.”

“But you’ll see…” Sal muttered the words once more, his voice barely audible. You found his lack of confidence amusing and let out a soft chuckle. The sound escaped your lips softly, like a gentle breeze. You have never seen you boyfriend’s face before. Not that you ever minded though because you know damn well that he wouldn’t look like a “Prince Charming” under there. Youll see what you’d expect to see underneath his prosthetic and you are prepared for it. “I…I don’t want you to see…”

“Well I don’t want you getting hot under there. I won’t take a peek at your face, I never have. Plus, I want you to be comfortable when we try this out.” You reassured him in such a tone that made his heart flutter so much. Sal knew where you were coming from so he obliged. He sat up and reached behind his head, unclipping the straps to his prosthetic. Slowly he raised it off of his head and set it down to the side. You smiled at the back of his head as he laid back down with his face against the pillows once more. “There you go, honey.” You said sweetly.

Sal always loved how soft you were even when it you two didn’t get intimate like this. You were so gentle with him and he can’t help but melt at the tone of your voice. It was always so smooth like honey and sweet like it too. When you introduced this new idea with him a couple weeks back he felt slightly nervous but he soon let it down due to him knowing that you would never do anything to hurt him or something that he wasn’t comfortable with. Thats why he fell for you in the first place. You had the patience, carefulness, and most importantly the loving nature that you bring upon him.

“Did you remember to stretch yourself out like I told you to?” You asked him. Sal nodded his head and you smiled down at him. You reached over and grabbed the bottle of lube. You started to lather your strap thoroughly just so that you didn’t risk Sal getting hurt in the process. “Tell me if it hurts, okay?” You ushered out as you lined yourself up. Sal’s breath hitched at the light feeling of your silicone strap prodding against his hole.

Sal's voice was filled with apprehension as he spoke quickly, "P-Please be gentle." The worry in his tone was palpable as if he feared the worst.

“Don’t worry, I promise to be gentle.” You reassured before leaning down and leaving a kiss on the back of his neck. He shivered at the soft feeling of your lips against his neck. Your hands gripped his hips in a firm manner before you thrusted forward into him. Sal let out a small yelp at the sudden intrusion as he gripped the pillow tightly. “How do you feel?” You said from behind him.

“M’fine…please—please move…” Sal said in a whiny tone. He sounded so needy for you. Following his words you slowly began to move. Your thrusts were slow and steady as the grip around his hips stayed the same. “Y-Y/n…it feels good…” Sal whined into the pillow.

“Yeah? It feels good, honey?” You said in a tone that had a hint of amusement.

“Yes—fuck yes—!”

“You love my cock don’t you sweetheart?” You cooed in his ear after you leaned down. Your strap still thrusting in and out of him as he let out soft moans of pleasures. He looked so pretty like this, squeezing around your cock and he practically was begging for me at this point. The way your hips snapped back against him in such a soft but quick pace was driving him over the edge. But that still didn’t beat the way you would go fast with your thrusts but then you would go back to your usual slow pace. He loved the way you teased him. He loved it all so much. The way you’d roll your hips against his own made him clench around you and hold onto the pillow much more tightly than ever. He felt that growing pit in his stomach form, signaling that he was going to release soon but how could he possibly release without asking for your permission first?

“M’close…! Y-Y/n I-I’m close—!” Sal said as he slowly lifted his face off the pillow. He whimpered softly. “A-Am I allowed to…to cum…?” Sal whined out. Oh how precious he was, asking you for your permission if he could release was the sweetest. Now, how can you possibly say no to that kind of behavior?

“Well look at. you asking for my permission!” You said lovingly. “My precious boy, you’re so considerate, caring for those around you.” You said. Sal felt his legs shudder then they buckled before he released a needy whine as he came. He hid his face in the pillow as he twitched ever so slightly. You were shocked at the sight but you felt a smile curl on your lips.

“M’sorry.” Sal muffled against the pillow. “…Really sorry.”

“Oh hush,” you said in a playful but firm tone. “You did absolutely wonderful, Sal. I’m so proud of you.” You praised softly before leaning over to place a kiss on his head. Your eyes widened when he suddenly turned around fully to look at you. You two stared at one another for a long time. You saw each and every scar and gash on his face. That right eye of his was just glass and uncooperative with his left eye as he stared at you. You didn’t dare to stop that smile on your face.

“You’re so pretty, Sal.”

#sally face oneshots #sally face #sally face imagine #sally face drabbles #sally face fluff #sal fisher #sal fisher x reader #sal fisher x you #sally face x you #sally face x reader #smut #sally face smut #sal fisher smut

114 notes · View notes

atinylittlepain · 6 months

Text

Chapter Four

no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!oc

series masterlist

series playlist

warnings: 18+ violence, physical injury, but there will be hope

a/n: this is a heavy chapter, i am not going to lie. as always, i have done my best to treat this heavy content with respect and truthfulness. i am not out for shock and horror, but honesty, yes.

..........................................

The burdens that you carry now

Well they're not of your creation

So let's not weep for their evil deeds

But their lack of imagination

Sweetheart Come - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

...........................................

There’s no denying winter now. Fall is always fleeting, and by the end of November, there’s no calling it anything other than cold. Sarah didn’t come home for Thanksgiving this year, a new boyfriend with parents to meet and a promise for Christmas. A small hurt still, tempered by how he and Dolores spent the holiday. No turkey, no stuffing, no stir or stress to any of it. A meal shared, simple as that, like any other day.

It’s been a slow gift, this new and unfurling closeness. Touch is always cautious, and quietly asked after. Every new okay, allowing for a bit more so that now, some things have become simple comfort instead of anxious and unknown. Like in the evenings, nothing even has to be said, already expected that they will settle down and around each other on the couch, and if she has grace to give, she’ll read aloud to him from whatever book she’s currently working through. Like in the mornings, sleep still making everything small and quiet, it isn’t uncommon for his hand to find the dip of her spine as they pass around each other in their shared routine, and it isn’t uncommon for her to lean into that touch, to pause in his palm. And around noon, whenever he stops into the diner, his hand will often catch hers when she slides his check across the counter, the slow sweep of his thumb over her knuckles.

“I might be late picking you up today, gotta help John with all the end of the month paperwork. You okay hanging here a little after four?” He tries to ask it casually, but the truth is, he doesn’t feel very okay about it at all. And he has no business feeling that quick curl of worry in his throat all because of the smallest, stupidest deviation from their usual routine.

“Of course. If it’s easier, Sal can drop me at the station after we close?” He isn’t sure which idea he likes less, her waiting around for him at the diner, or her coming anywhere near the station when she doesn’t have to. But closer to him always feels better these days, so he nods, a reluctant break of his hand from hers.

The thing about all this closeness is that it has only made that meanness, that hate blossom in their separation. Sometimes all he can think about when she isn’t around, the things he would like to do to husband. She has told him more, quiet in the night, things that make his heart stutter and then clench like a fist, like a jaw snapping shut. And today, moving through the day, he works all the poison over in his mind until John asks him from across the office what he’s scowling about. Oh, nothing. Nothing that anyone else could ever know about.

“Well, you got the last of this under control? I gotta pick up the kids from the bus stop pretty soon here.” Joel nods, working his mouth around civil words, polite words, sighing the instant John closes the door to the station behind him. He isn’t sure if husband has called this month. John hasn’t mentioned it, and Joel doesn’t want to ask. And there’s no point in telling himself that he shouldn’t. Shouldn’t be in the slow spiral of whatever this is with her. Because he is, and all the good of her makes him forget about shouldn’t. But the reality remains. That there is a man in Nebraska who called her his wife. That there is a man in Nebraska that Joel has imagined violence upon. An equal and accounted amount of it.

“Hello?” Sudden and startling, he nearly jumps in his chair at the sound of someone at the front desk. Not dressed in his uniform, but he’ll have to do, getting up and walking out to the front of the station.

“Hello, sir, how can I help you?” Just passing through, no doubt. Tall man, thin man, wiry and a little worn-looking. A strange time for him to be here, though. One of the extreme types, he figures, cross-country skier or the like. The kind that enjoy pain, probably looking for directions up into the mountains for a novel excursion.

“Are you Officer Davis?”

“No, he just stepped out. Did you speak to him over the phone or something?”

“Oh yeah, a couple of times. I tell you what though, he hasn’t been much help.” Yes, definitely a tourist, probably out from Denver, full of himself and full of shit. Wearing an expensive-looking flannel beneath a puffer jacket, Patagonia, and making some snit, some little tiff about something, calling John like that.

“Well, what exactly are you needing help with?”

“Are you a cop?” Said with a raised brow and a once-over, and Joel has to remind himself that yes, this is part of the job, grinding his teeth to hold back a grimace.

“I’m Officer Miller, yes. Could you tell me what you talked with Officer Davis about so I can see about helping you?”

“My wife, we talked about my wife.” A strange feeling. A sick feeling. Pinpricked vision and a hard rush in his ears. Not just passing through, not just a tourist, and not from Denver. Suddenly, he’s not sure how he imagined this man, even though he built him in his mind over and over, a piecemeal Frankenstein that’s full flesh and bone and body before him now.

Smaller and slighter than he imagined. But aren’t all monsters much bigger in our brains? Easier to fight something that looks just as evil as its rotten core. But this is just a man wearing an expensive-looking flannel beneath a puffer jacket, Patagonia. A tired-looking man at that, drawn and dark circles under his eyes. A man that wears glasses. Men that wear glasses aren’t supposed to be the ones beating their wives. Give him someone with tattoos up and down his arms, someone with enough muscle for it to menace, someone with greasy, long hair and a sneered scowl. This man looks like he goes to work everyday from nine to five in a cubicle, this man looks like anyone else, this man looks like someone who would never be suspected, someone who would never be caught. And just like that, it starts to make sense to Joel.

“Your wife?” His wife, who is going to be dropped off here any minute now.

“Yessir, I’m Charlie Wright? I’m sure you’ve heard about what happened back in June. There was a car, reported stolen around your parts and well–”

“Oh yeah, I heard about that. With all due respect, I’m not sure why you’ve come all this way after five months. Wherever your wife has gone, I can assure you she ain’t here.” At least for a few more minutes, at least enough time for him to get this man far away. No time for fight, not with the fine line of risk he’s currently walking just by having this man in the station.

“Are you sure of that, officer? Has there been any kind of a search effort for her? I’m sorry, if you could just empathize with me here. I’m only a man who’s trying to bring home his wife.” No, not now to that quick flood of fury threatening up his throat. He clenches his fists behind his back until it feels like the skin over his knuckles may split.

“I’m sorry, but it’s like I said, after five months, I reckon your wife is long gone from anywhere around here.” Whatever the man says back to him, he doesn’t hear it, eyes flickering over his shoulder to movement in front of the station.

And what comes next happens so slowly, so stupidly.

Dolores no longer feels anxious around the station. After five months, a figuring that it’s fine, that there’s nothing to fear or fret over. So when Sal pulls up and drops her off, she is barely even considering the building, idly walking over to it as she reads the back of a book she picked up yesterday from the library, using her shoulder to open the door and step inside.

“Lori?”

The rest does not happen slowly. A flash, a bright burst of motion. Something that sounds like a curse, a garbled, grunted you fucking bitch. Her book drops to the ground, spine splayed and cracked open, all the pages getting smeared to the side in an unfortunate crumple. And Joel can’t move. Husband has his hands on her. And Joel can’t move. It’s like husband knew exactly how he was going to move the next time he saw her, fingers closing around her throat, cage and crush as he walks her back until the terrible length of his body is pinning her up against the wall. And Joel can’t move. But husband isn’t just out for fear, a method to the way he takes one hand and clamps it over her nose and mouth while the other stays wrapped around her throat. Husband is looking to take something from her that’s past the point of fear. And Joel can’t move.

Husband is saying something to her, sneering something to her, though Joel can’t hear it through the pure panic flooding through his brain. His whole body screams to move faster, to get big and mean and loud, but he feels so very small, shocked into a slow, stuttering step that stops just as soon when suddenly husband lets out a curdled scream, his whole body recoiling from her in a tight curl, bent at the waist and clutching at his hand.

There’s blood, and that’s not right. Not the fact of it, of husband’s blood. The not right comes in how husband’s blood is smeared on her lips and dragging down her chin. In how there is nothing behind her eyes as she slumps back against the wall, a slow slide into a posture that he recognizes, curling in on herself, hands clasped behind her neck and her head ducking between her knees as she comes to sit on the ground. It’s a posture that’s taught to people to take when they’re afraid for their lives, a last hail Mary of protection to all the most vital, soft parts of the body. And Joel finally moves.

Second drawer from the bottom in the front desk, a pair of cuffs that he’s never been sure why they’re kept there. But now he doesn’t have to think at all about grabbing them, doesn’t have to think about how to pinch the back of husband’s neck in his hand and take him all the way to the ground, a knee pressed between his shoulder blades as he collects his flailing wrists and snaps them together in metal. There’s a fine flood of red dripping down husband’s left hand, perfect punctures on his pointer finger. It looks deep, it looks like it hurts, and Joel is glad for it.

The station has a single cell, used mostly and infrequently for folks needing to sober up after a particularly miserable night. Husband is still groaning and panting in pain as Joel hauls him down the hallway and behind the bars. All a bit cartoonish, all a bit garish. Lock and key and all that. And he only lets out a breath when the door to the cell is shut behind him. Much more important things that must be tended to.

His thoughts had been moving so slowly, if there were any thoughts at all, that suddenly it’s like a rubber band snapping back into place, breaking the surface, big gasp and a quick flood of frenzy and fury and fret, needing to make all of this right when he got it so very wrong. She’s still curled into and over herself, the heels of her palms pressed into her ears. And he’s not sure if it’s okay to touch her right now, erring on the side of caution as he kneels down in front of her, calls for her once, twice. Dove, Dovey. It’s enough to get a flicker of her eyes, seeing him, enough for her hands to fall from her ears, though she still stays all tucked up. The blood has already dried, rusted flakes of it on her skin, and he has to tamp down his own want to get it off of her as quickly as possible, settling instead for something slow, a careful coaxing of it’s okay now, please, let’s clean up, please, let me, please.

She’s still not quite looking at him, not quite looking at anything, something unfocused in her unblinking stare as he leads her to the bathroom, a small mercy that it’s down the other hall. A hand on her shoulder, an ask that she doesn’t say no to, lets him move her to sit on the edge of the toilet. A hand held on her knee as he fumbles to get a paper towel damp in the sink, still afraid that she will be gone if he doesn’t keep a pulse running to her.

He kneels down in front of her, and he tells himself that he has to be so careful, so gentle, violence already starting to split all her seams, all that slow stitching, all five months of it. And he can, for her, slow fingers tilting her chin for him. He is meticulous in his work, every last reminder of red until all that’s left is the suggestion of it and the shake in her lip. She doesn’t say a thing, shrugs out from under his touch, all he can do to make space as she stands up and shuffles over to the sink. And it is a shuffle, a limp, something heavy held somewhere in her body that she’s dragging with her. She dips her head under the tap, like prayer, like holy, lets the water run over her turned face until Joel starts to get worried. Pink water in the porcelain when she straightens back up, a slow unfurl of her spine. Still in her uniform, his stomach curls when he sees the spatter on the starched blue collar of it.

…

“You sure you got this covered for the night?”

“Not a problem, reckon your wife would have my balls if I kept you here any later.”

“Well if he gives you any trouble, I’m a phone call away, you know?”

“Yeah, John, I think he’ll be just fine once he sobers himself up.”

“Alright then, I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for taking care of this.”

“Sure thing.”

Joel made two phone calls. The first was to Patty. No explanation needed, not a thing said, already understood when she came and picked up Dolores, a careful arm curled around her shoulders and a murmured promise of home and clean clothes. Only a cursory glance to Joel, an implicit command for a conversation later.

The second call was to John. And he had been ready to tell him the truth when he got to the station. But husband didn’t say a thing when the officer asked him what the hell happened, just kept his hands tucked between his thighs, a blank look on his face. Drugs, alcohol, drugs and alcohol, enough of an excuse for John to sigh and shake his head and agree that yes, he would have to be held overnight. And Joel is doing him a favor really, by staying overnight to keep an eye on things so he doesn’t have to. Joel is doing him a solid, Joel is a real pal, Joel is a real good guy for letting his partner off the hook like that. And really, Joel doesn’t mind, craning his neck to watch John’s car pull out of the parking lot, no, he doesn’t mind at all. Really, Joel is happy to stay at the station with the man in an expensive-looking flannel and a puffer jacket, Patagonia, getting striped and slanted between metal bars.

The thing about the station is, it is very old and very small, and not very serious at all. Just enough power behind those silver stars to keep things in order over the years. But because the station is very old and very small, there is nothing like a security system, nothing like cameras recording anything. So no one else will get to see. Only him and husband bearing witness when Joel steps into the cell and closes it behind him.

“Here’s how this is gonna go.” Husband scoffs, tips his head back until his skull rests against the wall, slumped on the paint-peeling bench.

“You’re gonna get in your car, and you’re gonna go back to Nebraska. And you ain’t ever gonna come looking for her again.” Husband thinks this is a joke, Joel can tell, the way he tilts his head to the side, grimacing up a smile.

“Like it or not, officer, that’s my wife you’re talking about. And by law, I can drag her sorry ass just about anywhere I want to.” Only him and husband. No one else will get to see how silence falls, only for a flicker, before Joel takes two steps toward husband. And she isn’t here now, so he can get as big and mean and fearfully fast as he wants to.

Easy, really, anger makes it feel like nothing. Like nothing to get husband back down on the ground, prone and gasping little broken breaths with Joel’s hand clamped around the front of his throat. And he could, right now, he could. Break this man and bring what’s left of him to lay at her feet. He wants to, so very badly, let his hand crush that flutter, that pulse. But just on the heels of that anger is something else. Something small and sodden and sighing. All he can do to let a flame of frustration tamp it down, hauling husband up onto his knees, giving him enough coughed-in oxygen so he can understand what words come next. Speaking slowly, right in his ear.

“By law, I could show the bruises that will surely be on her throat to any cop in a fifty-mile radius and have you put in jail for a very long time. But I don’t think that’d be enough, do you?” What did Dolores tell him at the bar that night? Once, right here. To temple, that’s right. Where Joel settles the mouth of his gun now. And there is no monster. Something far more pathetic before him now, beneath him now. A blubbering man, a begging man, tears and snot shining up his face. Please, please don’t, please don’t do this.

Fear feels good, right. Making something right when his finger curls against the trigger. A burst of sound, a sob tearing through husband’s chest as he keels over, breathing hard, relieved and retching all at once. Joel lays a single kick to his stomach, sending him skittering back on the floor.

“Here’s how this is gonna go.” A hand gripped tight in husband’s hair to hold his face up, to make sure he is listening so very closely.

“You’re gonna get in your car, and you’re gonna go back to Nebraska. And you ain’t ever gonna come looking for her again. And if you don’t do as I say, that cartridge won’t be empty the next time you and I cross paths.” He lets him go, lets him slump back on the floor, still heaving.

Not another word is spoken. The door to the cell is left open. By morning, husband is gone.

…

“She didn’t eat anything.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t know if she slept, I doubt it.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“You and I are gonna have a talk.”

“Okay, Patty, later.”

“Yeah, later.”

The house is quiet and still when he goes inside, ears pricking to the sound of Patty’s car pulling away. Her door is cracked, the thin light of morning slipping and slivering down the hall. He’s not sure how much of anything is okay right now, silent and standing in the doorway. At the very least, she’s not in her uniform, an old sweatshirt he had offered her when the nights kept getting colder. Not bruised yet, but blooming fast, a smear of dark red across her throat.

“Is he okay?” It shocks him, startles him. He almost asks who, is who okay? But he knows who she’s asking after, asking for, and it makes him dizzy, makes him sick.

“He’s gone, Dove. You don’t have to worry about him now.” Her brow pinches and pulls down, a full-tilt crumpling of her expression that forecasts tears, though they don’t come, just that tremble to her lip.

“I hurt him.” Like confession, like sin, and he can’t stop himself from trying to sweep it away, two big steps to kneel between her legs where she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, hands on her knees to hold her where she is and tell her no, you did the right thing, you had to, it wasn’t that, it wasn’t bad or wrong or regretful, do not regret what you did, what you did was right, what you did was escape. And something else too, sorry. Sorry that she had to, because he didn’t, at least not in time.

“Is he really?”

“He is.”

“Forever?”

“He’s not coming back, I promise.” And this startles him too, the wrecked wail she lets out, head held in shaking hands, shaking shoulders, and shaking ribs that ache with sound and sob. And this isn’t relief, at least not entirely. It’s a mournful sound, it’s a losing sound, it’s a lost, longing sound.

The thing about a cage is that it becomes comfort once it is familiar. And the thing about monsters is that it doesn’t take much to become one. Just power and presence and taking something that does not belong to him, and never did. Part of her still loves that man, part of her is still kept by that man. And what Joel did, well, a keeping of his own, wasn’t it? A deigning and deciding of his own.

Something inside of him cracks, fine fissuring lines that splinter and snap, slumping back on his haunches, his hands slipping down to only a weak curl around her ankles as her whole body heaves. The loudest he’s ever heard her, a pure posture of agony in the way her spine snares and snarls up tight. And because of the crush of pain around her throat, the sound is near terrifying, broken and rasped, wounded animal, and so very not right, big, hot gasps of not right.

At first, he isn’t sure what it is, maybe just her body acting out some deep desperation in her hands reaching and grabbing onto his coat, still in his coat. Fists in fabric, asking him for something he is afraid to give her, though he does. An awkward contortion, lifting up onto his knees so he can bring his palms to span the shake of her back. She curls over him, into him. And what she says, what warbles up from her chest is an even sharper devastation. She thanks him, quiet and caught between gasps, thank you. Once, twice, his arms tightening around her to steady his own shake now. She thanks him for this undoing he has caused, and it in turn is his own quiet destruction. Because he would do so much more, unasked and unbidden. Dangerous, what he would do.

There’s no making sense of it, of the strange stir of grief and grace. Eventually, everything slows down, turns silent, and he’s still holding her, and she’s still holding him.

Nothing is said, not when bodies have already made so much clear. She lets him lead her to the bare light of the window, careful palms tilting her jaw so he can see what must heal. Asks her where it hurts the most and she just makes a dry sound that tries to be a laugh. There have been much worse hurts than this, he knows.

Maybe mercy, that there is always something that must be done around the fact of the land and the animals. They sniff into the morning cold, silent but close. Bleats turn into puffs of pale air, the flock already beginning their slow wander for the day, snow crunching under foot.

It’s a leap, a lurch of his heart to take her hand in his. She lets him, unspoken relief. Unspoken, all of it. But staying, both of them.

.............................

taglist:

@cassiopeia @eleganthottubfun @anoverwhelmingdin @sscorpiiio @joeldjarin @casa-boiardi @suzmagine @syakhairi @spookyxsam @northernbluess @hier--soir @joelsgreys @wannab-urs @tieronecrush @trulybetty @softlyspector @noisynightmarepoetry @csarab615 @ratoonstown @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @lizzie-cakes @beskarandblasters @pedrostories @pr0ximamidnight

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller fics #joel miller series #joel miller story #deliver me from nowhere

188 notes · View notes