Possessive Sally Face x Reader (gender neutral)

Possessive Sal x Reader (pt.25)

Hey, can y'all pls stop calling Y/n she/her in the comments like I'm all for #ynslandercore but like we respect everyone's pronouns here 👍 I wrote this for myself as a joke at first but low-key got into it and I don't use she/her so it makes me bit uncomfy/dysphoric :/ thx

"Y/n! What is this?!" she frowns at the print in her hand.

I explain what happened without holding back any key details, since even this pray-the-gay-away family still loves me. My mom is absolutely appalled by the end of it. Her jaw is on the floor, and she's no longer looking at the pictures. I look back her blankly.

"He did that all in a dress and platforms, too. And he didn't get any blood on his clothes, which I thought was impressive, considering how hard he punched the old man. His nose was bleeding, and so were Sal's knuckles."

"You're lucky to have someone so protective. And you're right, that is pretty impressive. I trust that boy a lot more- I guess his height doesn't hold him back. What did his family think?"

"They love me. Probably only 'cause I yelled a Bible verse and did my best to stay out of the way, while also being polite and dating Sal. They all seemed thrilled to see him," I grin.

"Haha, I bet. Who is this lady looking at you here?" she asks, pointing to a woman focused on my smile instead of the camera.

"Oh, that's Mary."

My mother and I continue to gossip about everyone and everything related to the wedding for a while, until I hear a knock on the door. I place the stack of images I'm holding on the coffee table in front of us and hurry to open the door. I'm a little confused to see Todd standing in my doorway.

"Hey, what brings you here?" I smile.

"I seek information on Sal's MCP joint damage, and figured you could be a reliable source," he says calmly, pushing his glasses up. "I don't find going behind his back to be very tasteful, but as his close companion, I am also rather perturbed."

"His what?" I forget about this kid's amazing vocabulary sometimes.

"Metacarpophalangeal joint injury?"

"Uhh..."

"Knuckles."

"Oh, he punched his great uncle in the face and dislocated his shoulder at his cousin's wedding," I shrug. "...That sounded a lot better in my head."

"Hm. He seemed to be feeling guilty, so I didn't want to worsen his condition with an interrogation. Would you mind giving me some context as to what many have triggered his fight response?"

"Not at all, come on in," I step aside and lead him to the couch. "Mom, can I talk to Todd for a minute?"

"Sure, I need to go grocery shopping anyway. Be safe," she stands from the couch and kisses my forehead.

"You too!" I call as she slips her boots on and grabs her keys before leaving.

"Should I mentally prepare myself?" Todd gives me a concerned look as he sits down next to me with his right ankle over his left knee.

"Probably. Need a minute?"

"I don't think so. Please, explain," he nods graciously.

"Basically, his great uncle wouldn't stop asking invasive questions, and when he got mad and poked me for nicely telling him to stop, Sal told him to knock it off, which only made him more mad. At this point, everyone is watching, so I yelled a Bible verse about not being mean or whatever when he got ready to smack Sal's consciousness into the oblivion. Then he tried to punch me instead, but Sal shoved him off balance, and beat the living shit out of him."