A/N: Hi angels! This one has been bouncing around in my head for a while, so i hope you enjoy!. Title from “Stolen” by Dashboard Confessional (because tys is a big mush and deserves the mushiest song in the world) (word count: 1827)
warnings: oral sex, two morons in love, some curse words
For what feels like the 300th time since you’ve moved to Denver, you wrap yourself in a big fluffy blanket on your couch, heart sunk with disappointment after yet another failed attempt at dating. You thought your first two dates with Ian had went well; he was smart and interesting enough and you’d made him laugh on more than one occasion. Before leaving in your uber, you’d told him you were free again this weekend if he’d be interested, and he told you, right there on the sidewalk, that he didn’t think that was the best idea. It seems to be the same conversation every time: “You’re a great girl, but I’m not the guy for you” and “I’m sure you’ll find Mr. Right someday.” It’s so familiar at this point that you could probably recite the lines by heart and that thought makes you snort humorlessly. You’re about to dig into the big bowl of ice cream you’ve set up for yourself when you hear the front door of your apartment creak open. You’d sent your best friend Tyson a text half an hour ago, just a simple “can you come over?,” and left the door unlocked, hoping you could stay awake long enough for him to arrive. “(Y/N)?” he calls in to the apartment and pads into the room, shoes left at the door. He chuckles a little at the sight of you wrapped up and you pout up at him. “What’s the matter little burrito?”
You wiggle over to make room for him to sink into the couch next to you, careful not to unwrap your blanket cocoon, before answering. “Just another guy who ‘isn’t looking for anything serious but wishes me the best.’” The frustration and disappointment in your voice is clear and Tyson borderline coos at you as he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in to curl yourself into his side.