Coffee Stains | Dan X Reader | Danisnotonfire

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Standing under the shower, the warm water washes over you, removing any last traces of popcorn dust from your skin. Recalling the events of last night's phone call, you frown, still having heard nothing from Sarah, the mysterious woman who contacted you and asked you to join in on a new YouTube project. You're beginning to assume that the whole idea has just been cancelled. Either that or you're no longer a part of it.

Thinking it over, in some ways you wish that the call had never happened, and you and F/N had finished Lion King, before probably having a pillow fight and ending your Saturday night just like you'd ended the hundreds before it. That way you wouldn't be left wondering about the answers to two important questions.

The main cliffhanger you'd been left on was who you'd have swapped with if the project had gone ahead. Remembering all the crazy fanfictions you'd read about various YouTubers, last night you'd let your mind wander, imagining that one of the stories could come true, and you'd find either a romance or even a new friend.

The other question hadn't had quite so much time devoted to it, and was less of a mysterious question regarding your loss, than straight-up curiosity. Why on earth had Sarah hung up on you like that in the middle of what was a clearly important phone call? Yeah, you realised that it was most likely because she ran out of battery, or because there was an emergency, but you couldn't help wondering if there was something more to it.

Putting an end to your somewhat depressing thoughts, you get out of the shower and quickly dry yourself, pulling on a plain F/C t-shirt with a pair of black jeans. You quickly tip-toe out of the bathroom, and through your apartment, stopping in front of F/N's door. It's an unspoken policy between you two, that if only one person is awake, the other has to make breakfast for the both of you. Since you always seemed to wake up the earliest, and pancakes were the limit of your cooking skills, they had become pretty normal practice in your apartment.

After hearing nothing from behind the door, you continue your silent journey through the house, making a mental note to cook enough pancake batter for two. When you reach the lounge room, however, all of these thoughts are blown straight out of your head.

It looks as if you've been robbed. Apart from the mess you and F/N made last night, there are books and games thrown everywhere. Stranger still, is that none of your expensive filming equipment has been taken, and your TV and iPad are both still there. What kind of thieves would break in, trash the place, yet take seemingly nothing?

I'll just clean it later, you think, knowing that with your procrastination and laziness, later means whenever you can't walk through your lounge room anymore because there's trash everywhere. For the moment, you just have to find where you threw your phone so that you can survive. Seriously, once you forgot to bring your phone with you to a party, and it had been one of the worst nights ever - you'd almost broken down several times.

Knowing that tired and sugar induced Y/N could be very unpredictable, you search everywhere, lifting up cushions and carpets, shifting piles of fallen books and pieces of paper.

When you still haven't found you precious phone half an hour later, you're seriously considering sneaking into F/N's room to steal hers, as the deprivation of your social media and apps is beginning to get to you. Laying down on the lounge, you almost kick yourself as you feel something digging into your back. You can't believe that it was on the lounge the whole time, amidst the crushed chips you're now lying on.

Pulling it out from underneath you, it begins vibrating, signalling an incoming call. Pushing accept, you notice that it's another unknown number. Maybe it's Sarah again, you wonder. A loud, bossy voice begins talking, and you almost feel disappointed, knowing that your last hope of taking part in a mysterious project sort of just went up in flames.