Jason Dean #2 - Heathers

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Jason Dean x Reader: Moving On

A/N: A few people have been asking for a second J.D. story, and I've...well let's say I've been inspired. So...here you guys go.

(Y/N) = Your Name, (L/N) = Last Name, (E/N) = Ex's name.

Disclaimer: I do not own Heathers or anything relating to it.

He said he'd wait for you.

The lying asshole said he'd wait for you.

And you had believed him.

But no, that connection that you had, the pull you felt towards each other, the memories that you had...they were all gone. Only because you had to move away for two years.

That first year...that first year was fine. He still loved you. He talked to you every day.

The second year it slowed, and then it stopped. You figured he was just busy, and you understood that. But after a month of silence you grew suspicious and decided to call him.

All to find out he'd been dating a girl named Heather for the past two months. Two damn months.

He could've told you. He could've said something! And he didn't. And that made the whole thing feel worse.

And now...now you had to go back to Westerberg. You had to go back and find him with someone who made him happier than you did, while you were left alone and miserable.

You were always alone. Mom left, Dad doesn't care, sister moved away, your few friends abandoned you...You were always alone.

Especially now, walking into the packed cafeteria and having no one to sit with. You were used to being alone...but in a public setting it was a little bit harder for you.

Scanning the room you managed to find one relatively empty table; it was near the back, occupied by only a sleeping kid and some guy in a long black jacket.

You kept your head high as you navigated the room alone. No one paid you much mind, however your heart sunk fast as you saw some blond girl sitting on your ex's lap, both of them in their own world.

That asshole should die, that asshole should die, that asshole should die. The words repeated in your head over and over as you continued walking, moving your eyes back to the table you were approaching.

The guy sitting there had looked up, stunningly vibrant eyes looking you up and down. His hair was messy, but in a charmingly attractive way. The ear piercing on his left ear completed the bad-boy look he was going for.

"Is this seat taken?" you questioned when you reached him-er, the table.

"Not at all," the strange boy smiled, if anything seeming to be a little confused. "How can I help you."

"You can help distract me from all the assholes in the world," you said dryly, sitting down. "I hope you aren't one of them."

"I'd like to think I'm one of the good ones," he chuckled, holding out a hand. "Jason Dean, J.D. for short."

"Jason Dean..." you tested out, smiling slightly at how it sounded as you shook hands. "Well, it's (Y/N) (L/N). Nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine," his smile grew more confident. "Now who should we be looking at to kill, huh?"

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