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accidental-will-wood-reference · 11 days ago

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HELLO?? LMFAO

THIS IS A FIRST FOR ME. ACCIDENTAL WILL WOOD REFERENCE IG

Blue Velvet

A/N: A continuation to Satin Pillows to Cry On. Tell me, who are you rooting for? are either of these yans worth reader's time? Based on Bobby Vinton's 'Blue Velvet'.

Synopsis: Waiting miserably on your anniversary, you find a familiar face in the most unlikely of places, a man who seems to be hiding something unpleasant.

CW: Yandere behaviors, deception, breaking and entering

A date night can’t really be considered a ‘date’ if only one person shows up. What’s more, a date in an unfamiliar place, with staff who barely spoke a word of English that only your husband could decipher in his years of linguistic studies, was not welcoming. You did everything he asked, adorning the pretty dewdrop jewels he deftly laid in your hands on the beach that morning, a gentle order for you to wear them that night in honor of your two-month anniversary.

Despite their shining luminescence capturing the eyes of patrons and wait staff alike, you sat alone. Your husband is nowhere to be found.

It was embarrassing to fling your head around every few seconds, wondering if the heavy thumps of fine leather shoes against the smoothened floor was he. It never was.

Instead of what you prayed to find, you encountered the gaze of a face you knew all too well. One that lingered as you had said final goodbyes, that had once kissed your name softly to your jaw, that ended screaming it in rage.

“You…” You couldn’t finish, seeing him in the fine, ironed white button up, a waiter’s vest of black complimenting his newly sunkissed skin. It seemed his time working on the island had gotten to him.

“Well I’ll be damned.” He grinned, a little too excited to see you from how painfully you recall your last interaction. Your breaking of his heart, which now seemed to be a faint memory from the way he nonchalantly strode over.

Picking up your hand, his gaze avoided the large diamond on your finger to lay a gentle, but firm, kiss to your knuckles. The manager of the establishment had done the same when you first arrived, all modest and humble. Just as it had done then, your ex-boyfriend’s kiss left you taken aback.

“So you’re officially one of the married’s now, huh?” His gentle, breezy american accent almost made you feel safe in the room of strangers.

“Uh...I guess you could say that; But you-- what are you doing here?”

Your ex looked around, almost clueless.

“Working.”

“No, I-- you know what I mean, what are you doing HERE, on a random tiny island of all places? Did you… know I was going to be here?”

A part of you tightens up, his funny look not doing much to ease your tension.. He was never one to let things go easily; would he really… go this far?

“I wish I was out here just to see you, would’ve been a hell lot more fun. But no, I came for a change of scenery.” He looked around the rainforest-themed restaurant with odd, fresh wonder. “I sold our old apartment, got a dog, and moved here. I might not know a lick of what they’re saying, but it’s… different. It’s helped me.”

The sting of his words almost flies by you, but they cut deeper the longer his nostalgic gaze lingers. It’s helped him escape from you, from what you did.

“That’s really great.” You give him your best smile, ignoring how he still held your hand and kneeled next to your table. “You deserve good things.”

At that, he couldn’t help but give you a real smile; good things he did deserve, and in due time he would have them sitting in the palm of his hand.

“So what’re you doing out here all alone? Where’s mister moneybags?” He moves to sit where your husband should be, stealing a piece of bread from the table basket that tasted more like bitter peppercorns.

“He’s just finishing up some work. Said he’ll be here any minute, which is great because I’m starving.”

Your smile twitches a little, the back of your mind wondering if those words are unknowingly true, if he’ll see you with another man; or worse, he’ll leave you here for the rest of the night.

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know. I’m sure this isn’t the first time he’s left you all alone like this.”

Your ex boyfriend takes a sip from the undrunken glass of water across from you in his hand, his knuckles wrapped in flesh-colored gauze.

“It’s that easy to tell, huh.” The sting of shame pulses behind your eyelids. “How embarrassing, and you of all people-- to see me like this.” You bite your lip to stop a cracked sob from escaping. “Do you feel satisfied? You should, you deserve it. After.. Everything.”

“Satisfied?” He scoffed. “I’ll be satisfied when you aren’t miserable-- I don’t get any satisfaction from your suffering.”

Okay, maybe he did a little bit. But only because he got to be the one to comfort you, to see the way your so-called ‘husband’ put you on the backburner, again.

The candlelight hued small tears tugging at the corners of your eyes, no longer a painful urge to hold them back as they rested there, waiting to fall. Through the blur, you could see a small handkerchief tucked away in your ex-boyfriend’s shirt pocket. A soft, gentle blue, unoffending with the semi-formality of his clothes, almost unnoticeable if it weren’t for your keen eye.

“Where’d you get that?” Moving, you pluck it from his coat pocket, the small square wrinkled between your heavy fingers. “This is--”

“Hey!” He shouted, almost accusatory as it was snatched back. He grabbed it before you could find the initials you searched for.

The moment it was back in his hand, his agitated frown shifted back to a more nervous smile. “When’d you learn to take things that didn’t belong to you? The wealth get to your head?”

He scoffed playfully, shoving the handkerchief into his back pocket.

“No I-- it’s just that he, has one just like that.” Everytime you mentioned your husband, it felt like you were stabbing the man in front of you all over again.

Another suited businessman walked past the hosts stand, catching your attention until-- no, he was far too aged to be your husband.

“Yeah well, the manager gives em out to all the waiters to wear. It’s a high-end place, you know.”

His fingers twitched with each statement that tried to sound casual, only to come out closer to a squeaky fib with the intonation of his voice.

Nevermind the similarity to your husband’s handkerchief, your ex’s behavior was erratic; suspicious in the way he looked at every other server who walked past him, almost hiding himself against the table with one arm propped up.

“Speaking of which… What's your boss's name again? He told me when I walked in, but I forgot.” You pull at the bread on your plate a bit with a fork, looking at it unassumingly.

Your ex-boyfriend went quiet, suddenly just as interested in the door as you were.

His eyes were rigid, swallowing as he seemed caught between something. Perhaps your hunch was towards the right direction.

“Better yet, what’s this restaurant's name? I’m sure you know, right?” You looked up at him, a part of you hoping maybe you were wrong; but your intuition knew best.

You should have known it was all a hoax, it was too convenient. While dating, he admitted to having stalked your social media and workplace for weeks before asking you out; It sounded cute when he first told you-- a man lovesick and desperate for your attention. Now, you looked back on it with apprehension. What’s to say he’s still not over you?

The thought wasn’t pure vanity in yourself; he had a history, one you were well aware of.

“What’re you trying to say?” His wrapped hand gripped at the tablecloth, squinting at you with a matched suspicion. “You think I’m lying?”

Your eyes flashed down to his grip, a spot of red clinging between his knuckles and down the bandage. Before you could ask what had happened, for him to try and cover it up with a “kitchen accident”, the familiar sharp steps of your husband came to a halt.

Your ex was in the process of standing up, looking instantaneously as you did to the imposing figure beside him.

“Excuse me. I think that’s my seat.” Your husband interrupted, fixing one of his suit’s cuffs; he dressed on brand for the restaurant--formal and clean-cut--- but even you could tell he had just gotten back from his office, having no time to change.

“Yeah. Was just leaving.” Your ex murmurs, hesitantly pulling away from you. He keeps his head low, watching you with a piercing gaze of furious anguish.

Your husband finds ease in sliding to his chair, looking slightly out of sorts as the tired circles under his eyes seem to have increased since you last saw him.

“I’m sorry I’m so late,” He searches for your hand eagerly to pull it towards him; he was warm, invitingly so. “My darling.”

He smiles, and a part of it is genuine-- but a corner of his lips pulls tight.

“Have you been crying?” He asks, almost attempting to bring his thumb to your eyelashes.

“Oh, no,” You wipe them before he can reach, careful not to smudge or pull anything out of place. “It’s the candles, burns my eyes a little bit.”

You’re not very convincing, but thankfully he doesn’t press for answers despite the skeptical look on his face. Quickly, he became preoccupied with settling himself in and soaking in your glow.

“I really am just… I’m so sorry I left you here waiting. First it was drunken clients, and then the villa being broken into, and--”

“Wait, go back, what?”

He squeezes your hand harder, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as the tell-tale sign of an oncoming headache grows.

“I got a call about a half hour ago about someone shattering the sliding glass door in our bedroom; left a mess everywhere. Things were thrown all around the house but apparently very little was stolen. They hadn’t even bothered to touch the closet safe.”

Your husband could very clearly see the bewildered look of fear pulling you apart in threads, your jaw dropped as you imagined the scene in your head.

“But, please let’s not think about that right now. Security is taking care of it as we speak, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Someone managed to break in, and you’re telling me there’s nothing to worry about?”

Despite the harshness of your words, your tone is despondent. This was the last thing you needed, especially on a trip that was supposed to be some sort of a vacation.

Your husband sighed. He pulled your fingers to his lips, kissing them as he closed his eyes. There was always something trying to pull you apart from him.

His silence was telling; he knows. And yet, he says little to fix it, merely trying to soothe himself with the warmth of your palm and the softness of your skin.

Even with your server coming out with the first course of your dinner, breaking the solemn conversation, you barely looked at your food. Your eyes kept drawing back to your husband’s empty coat pocket, free from the blue velvet handkerchief he was supposed to wear tonight.

#mod red #Enjoy your yandere stalking fanfic ig...#/silly /not judging you #blue velvet #''blue velvet'' reboot starring tom waits #''blue velvet'' reboot starring tom waits (suburbia overture 2024 edit)#the normal album #tna #the new normal #tnn #will wood #will wood reference

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