#also the ac outside is not a consistent hum it pulses

[gideonisms]

I love that there are no bugs in my new unit bless ♥️

[sallyf4ce]

wolves

chapter II

-> sally face x f!reader

-> enemies? to lovers

-> previous | next

cw: drugs, cigarettes, abuse, panic attack

*does not follow original plot of sally face*

summary: larry knocks (y/n) off her feet, literally. later, him and sal come to apologize, bearing a gift of homemade lasagna. sal and (y/n) bond over their similar bodies. his eyes look familiar.

The sound of your skateboard and the wind brushing past your ears practically deafened you, which allowed you to think in peace. Maybe you’d survive in Nockfell.

Maybe it wasnt as bad as you made it. You’d grow close to the old apartment, push through school, leave your mother as quickly as possible, and start fresh somewhere across the world. The only thing that you wouldn’t get close to is the forest surrounding Addison. It loomed over you, day and night, dewy pines poking out at you like a warning sign. Maybe mom moved here just so she could torture you with the forest. Remind you of what happened.

Loud footsteps joined the wheels of your skateboard. You looked back, and on your trail were those two kids from the apartment. The tall one’s face was almost right in yours. You let out a small yelp as your skateboard hit a rock and sent you tumbling to the ground, completely destroying your knees in the process.

“Shit!” larry yelled out in surprise as he dodged the skateboard that went right between his legs.

You quickly reached out to your head, trying to calm the searing pain pulsing through it. What the fuck just happened?

“What the fuck?” you groan. The blue haired boy, sal, grabbed your skateboard and came up close to you. pulling down his sleeves, he quickly grabbed your knees and covered them, soaking up the gushing blood.

“Larry!” sal turned around to face him. You winced as the fabric of his sweater clung to your knees. Your hands grabbed his to pull them off but you froze. They were soft and cold, almost like snow. How would it feel to hold them longer? Would you warm them up? or would they freeze you?

What the fuck?

You snapped out of your trance and moved them off your knees. You scowl at larry and pick your skateboard back up.

“Nice job, asshat.”

His face flushes at the insult and he moves back. Sally stands up and offers you his hand, but you dont need his help (obviously a lie, your entire body was aching like a scale 8 earthquake). You shove yourself up and wipe your burning palms on your jeans. With your feet back on the skateboard (it took a few tries to get up because your knees kept buckling), you flip them off and begin skating back to addison. You just wanted a nice fucking stroll alone, why were these fucks literally everywhere you went?

It’s around 12:45 now. You came home, took a bath, bandaged up your knees and took some tylenol. Mom was already in her bedroom and there were some leftover beer bottles on the coffee table, so she probably wouldnt wake up anytime soon. you quickly trashed the bottles and decided for a quick nap on the couch, since your room was… occupied. your pyjamas, for now anyway, consisted of an oversized grey ac/dc shirt and some soft-ass spandex shorts.

“finally, a fucking break from this shit.” a content sigh escaped your lips as you threw yourself onto the cold couch.

a few knocks sounded at your door.

“(y/n)? it’s uh, it’s sal. and larry.”

“fuck.”

THEY’RE LITERALLY EVERYWHERE WHAT THE FUCKKKK AGGHHH WHY CANT THEY LEAVE YOU ALONE THEY ALREADY BUSTED YOUR KNEES LIKE WHAT

“coming.” you mumbled angrily even though they couldn’t hear you.

the blinding fluorescent lights of the hallway hit you as you opened the door. along with them came the smell of freshly baked lasagna. your eyes widened for a second, before looking up at sal. he stared at you, taking in your appearance. your hair was ruffled, eyes blinking sleepily as they adjusted to the light. your shirt had ridden up and showed a bit of your stomach. he blushed as you pulled it down and glared at him, a slight tinge of red on your own cheeks.

“larry.” he nudged his friend. the brunette walked up in front of sal, holding a pan of lasagna.

“listen man, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to fuck up your knees n shit. jus’ got excited cause of your sanity falls shirt. can we, uh, can we come in?”

Slam.

larry quickly jumped back in surprise.

“i guess that means no.”

you yelled out a quick ‘wait!’ as you cleaned up your apartment and hid your mom’s weed and other things. god, for a grown woman, she didn’t know how to clean for shit.

opening the door back up, you waved them inside.

“god, you smoke a lot.” larry coughed a bit at the smell of your apartment, which earned him a shove.

“sorry! god, sal, so mean.” he mumbled.

“s’ my mom. i only smoke outside. uh, take a seat on the couch, i’ll warm up the lasagna.” you pulled it out of larry’s hands as they both took a seat on your makeshift bed.

sal shifted. “you sleep here?” he asked, confused. maybe your room was being used as storage.

“for now. there’s some weird ghost shit going on in my room. some fucking preppy ghost woman keeps squealing when i come in.”

ghosts? you believed in ghosts? maybe they’d be able to take you on their expeditions! sal perked up at the thought of you becoming friends.

“you believe in ghosts?”

“well, i saw one, so what else could it fucking be?” you chuckled as you shoveled the now warmed up lasagna onto three plates. sal noticed and his eyes widened.

“oh, no, i- i don’t want any-” he waves his hands.

“you’re having it, i don’t care.”

larry laughs as you shove it into their hands.

“feisty, aren’t ya?” he stabs some and shoves it into his mouth. you sigh and lean back into the couch.

“you guys go to the school here, right?”

larry nods. “yeah, there’s only one school in nockfell.”

“eww, larry face, don’t chew with food in your mouth.” sally laughs. in the corner of his eyes, he thinks he can see you smile.

“yeah, we go to nockfell high. i’m assuming you’re going there too.”

“mhm. starting monday. hurry up and eat, i’m not warming it up again.” you grumble. sal doesn’t move. “god, okay, i’ll look away. i have to go clean this thing anyway.” you wave your prosthetic’s fingers.

“oh, yeah, you also have a prosthetic!” his face shifts into a child-like curiosity. it’s a face that you’ve seen before, and it makes you giggle a bit every time. you place your hand on his lap. sal does a double take and his mask raises a bit.

“you wanna touch it, don’t you. go ahead.”

“damn, sal, you get all the ladies. leave some for me.” larry chimes in, hand on his forehead in mock sadness. he chuckles.

“you gonna touch it or what?”

“uh, yeah.” sal slowly lowers his hands onto it. he traces your fingers, flexing them every once in a while. he flips your palm and looks at the graffiti ‘s’ you drew on it.

“when was this?” he looks back up at you.

“grade 10, two years ago. got bored in class and accidentally took out my sharpie instead of a dry-erase marker. god, my mom was mad.” you chuckle at the memory. she didnt let you back in the house for two days. you had to camp out in the shed, where you stored your extra food so she wouldn’t steal it.

sal hummed. “what about this one?” it was a big ‘SF’. was it for his name? of course not, she didn’t know you back then, moron. still, it warmed him up a bit.

“not for you, that’s for sure.”

“damnnn, savage!” larry put his plate down. “mind if i get more?”

“larry, we brought it for (y/n).” sal scolded.

“nah, i don’t mind. knock yourself out.” you nodded, continuing your conversation with sal.

larry trotted towards the kitchen.

larry’s point of view:

sal and (y/n) seemed to be getting along quite well. good for him, really. we might be able to coax (y/n) into our friend group. i didn’t like her at first, but i think she’s just a little stand-offish. anyway, back to the lasagna. man, i wish mom would make it more often. she only makes it for guests. where is it? oh, there. (y/n)’s going to nockfell high, right? probably should tell her about travis.

your point of view:

sal was still tracing your arm, running his pale fingers over where the prosthetic connected to your skin. the doctors could have chopped your arm off completely, up to your elbow, but you wanted to salvage as much as you could, so it stops mid-forearm.

“do you take it off often?” sal hummed. it felt a little intimate, tracing your prosthetic. it was like soothing a part of your body that was already gone. what? what was he thinking?

“mmm, i take it off every night. if i leave it on, i could get rashes ‘n shit. rashes aren’t fun. ‘m assuming you take yours off every night too.” he nods.

“i don’t like taking it off during the day. phantom limb shit, you know? it hurts a lot.” you grumble.

“got the lasagna. since you’re going to nockfell, ‘should probably tell you about travis.” larry sits down. “he’s your typical stick-up-the-ass bully. doesn’t really like sally face ‘n our crew.”

“yeah. just ignore him and you should be fine.”

“we‘ll protect you.” larry swings an arm over your shoulder.

huh? you can protect yourself. does he think you can’t? is it because of your prosthetic?

“i can do it myself, you dimwit.” you push his arm off your shoulder.

“time for you to leave.”

“woah, dude, calm down-” larry’s eyes widen in panic. he didn’t mean to offend you.

“i’m sorry!”

“i’m not hurt, just need my sleep. it’s 1:30. go on now.”

sal sets down his cold, uneaten lasagna and larry takes a quick bite out of his.

“see ya!” he mumbled, words muffled by food. you click your teeth as he walks out of your apartment and towards the elevator.

“(y/n).”

you spin around to face sal. his hand lingers on your counter.

“your knees. how are they?”

you look at his eyes through his mask. they’re light blue. like the lake that you so dreaded. like the sky that morning. like your dad’s shirt. he blinks.

“uh, f-fine. they’re fine. they should heal in a few days. time for you to go.” you grab his shoulders and shove him through the door.

“see you tomorrow?” he stumbles.

“yeah.” the door shuts with a slam and you’re filled with an overwhelming sense of dread.

oh god, not this again. your vision blurs as you try to grasp onto your breath. you can hear the blood rushing in your ears. your heart thuds like it’s going to break through your rib cage. it feels like someone is strangling you, coaxing the last breath of air from your lungs. your nails scratch at your throat desperately, your salty tears only making the marks burn more. at least the cold metal of your prosthetic cools you down a bit.

shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up. you can’t wake anyone. you bite down on your lip to suppress the strangled cries leaving your mouth. god, not the lake, please. not the forest. not the huge, dirty, rabid wolf-looking creature behind your father. not his cries. please, just make it shut up. SHUT UP.

you wake up the next morning to your alarm ringing.

taglist: @purelydarling @ghostfacefricker6969 @deadpoetsandhoney