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#drawing adam's outfit gave me headache
fury176 · 3 years
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The end of ep 11 except Joe doesn't stop Adam and Langa is.. less polite
∠( ᐛ 」∠)_
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twooneztaylorthecat · 3 years
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Wishful Thinking- Adam Stanheight/Reader
A/N, okay like a warning. I write on my computer so this is gonna be a long one. IDK if that's what tumblr's for but... this is for anyone who wants it.
You hadn't slept in days. It had been rough with the loss of someone so close to you and you often had to think back to a time when life wasn't so hard. It was difficult, seeing as you had lost two precious people right after the other. The thing was, you couldn't seem to remember who it was you had lost. Could it have been your mother? Could it have been your father? Or was it a distant relative? A second cousin? A third cousin? Maybe an aunt or an uncle? In any case, the fact still remained, you couldn't recall who had passed away. It was almost like, you chose not to remember.
But why would someone like you want to forget the people who had passed? Wouldn't they be special to you? Didn't you have a relationship of some kind with the deceased? It shouldn't be so blurry. This was... nonsense! You weren't that heartless of a person. At least, you hoped you weren't... And you certainly didn't srive to be. But it didn't matter anymore. You were home, a pie was baking in the oven, and your significant other was working in his darkroom.
You had moved in with your boyfriend six months ago. He was nice, but... he had anxiety issues. Not like it was easy to recover from one of Jigsaw's games, but... it was a work in progress. His therapist said he was doing well. You sat down on the couch, the smell of cigarette smoke filled your nose. It was a relaxing scent; it made you think of HIM: Adam Faulkner Stanheight.
Speaking of which, out of nowhere Adam appeared around the corner. He was setting up some pictures in his darkroom. It was nearly eleven thirty, but you didn't mind, you liked staying up with Adam. Although, he had kept you out of the room this time, claiming that he was going to surprise you with this new set of photos. You were suspicious. Not that you didn't trust Adam, but... mostly, you were concerned about what embarrassing pictures Adam had taken of you behind your back. You weren't looking forward to finding out.
You gestured to the spot next to you all the same. It would take some time for the pictures to develop anyway, and Adam wasn't about to ruin the surprise. He had a grim look on his face. It worried you. "Is everything okay?"
Adam sat down next to you, and stared at the coffee table dully. His eyes were dark, and unseeing. After a long couple minutes, in which you started to wring your hands, he spoke at last. His words were slow and thoughtful, and his voice was hollow, but you could detect some kind of worry in it. "I just realized one day, you're gonna be gone. Then what will I do? Once you leave me and never come back, I don't think I'll be the same again."
You looked at Adam in alarm. What did he think was going to happen to you? You were completely fine and well. "Adam," you said soothingly, patting him on the shoulder. "Why are you worrying about that right now? I'm not going anywhere for a long time. I promise." You turned his head towards you, and he looked at you desolately. You leaned over and kissed him on the lips. You hadn't been expecting such a vehement reaction from Adam. Apparently he was eager to continue.
He lifted you from the couch and put you on his lap, never once removing his lips from yours. You started to smile at his affection, but Adam gave you no breathing time; he wanted more of you. So, you obliged.
Pushing him up against the couch, you kissed him harder, deeper, fiercer. You felt Adam sink into the couch willingly, tilting his head upwards in order to give you a better angle. You combed your fingers through his hair, tempting him to relax entirely.
There was no rush.
Everything was going to be fine.
You were right here.
Adam had his hands up your shirt in a matter of seconds, traveling up and down your body. You leaned into him, feeling him speed up the kiss. Your heartbeat was hammering, your cheeks were burning, and your head felt light. You loved the way Adam made you feel. But before anything could start, you pulled away. "I love you," you whispered.
"I love you more," Adam said softly and you chuckled.
"Undoubtedly," you agreed.
The oven blared loudly from behind you, and you stood up. "Hang on, baby. I don't want to burn the apartment down. Besides don't you want to try the blackberry pie?"
Adam gazed at the oven distantly. Fear flashed across his face, but it was gone so quickly you had a hard time believing what you saw. "Are you okay if I leave to go get the pie?"
The oven beeped again.
Adam didn't look at her. He leaned forward. "Don't go," he whispered to himself over and over. "Don't go, don't go, don't go..."
"I'm just getting out the pie, Adam. Where do you think I'm gonna go?"
Adam looked at her, a realization seemed to have sunk in. He seemed calm now, but dispirited. "Y-Yeah," he stammered slowly. "I guess I can't keep you here forever. I... hate this part... I wish... Oh, never mind I'm not gonna say that. You'll see for yourself any moment now."
Adam's words disconcerted you to an exceedingly far amount. You threw him a fearful glance. "Uh, what?"
"No, don't worry about it." Adam smiled. "Come on, I'll go with you." He brushed past you hastily, and began to open the oven.
Hesitantly, you turned around and stared after him. He was setting the pie on the stove now, allowing it to cool, but something didn't seem right. You now had less motivation to walk over and help him. You wouldn't have, if it wasn't for the smile he shot you. Surely, Adam was just being anxious. You approached him, your feet feeling heavy like stones.
As you neared the kitchen you could see the look in Adam's eyes. There was sadness, and a little bit of reluctance, but he didn't stop you from going. Finally, as your feet reached the tile of the kitchen floor, there was a wave of blurriness and you collapsed onto the ground.
You awoke with a raging headache, wet eyes, and a dry throat. You coughed a couple times and then raised your head. You found yourself in a busy bar. The lights were blinding you in streaks and the music blasted your eardrums. You gazed around dazedly, shuddering at the ache in your neck. It had formed from sleeping over the counter for so long. There was a glass of something next to you. It appeared to contain some alcoholic beverage, but you couldn't remember what it was you ordered.
You felt alone suddenly. Coldness seeped into your body, as the harsh reality sunk in. You turned around, not wanting to believe it, and called for Adam, but you were alone. Utterly and miserably alone. And then you remembered.
It came back in a flash so overwhelming you nearly fell off the bar stool. Your boyfriend hadn't survived Jigsaw's game. Your heart was ripped in half as you realized this. You almost couldn't move, and you burst into tears. You had been dating him for a year and a half, your lives had been going smoothly, and then John Kramer took him from you. You screamed and ignored the people who looked at you, that wasn't really something you were concerned about right now.
Halfheartedly, you began to trudge over to the door. You needed to get home, and clean up. There was something you hadn't done yet. You had been too scared to do it at first, but now you felt brave enough. Though your dream had mostly been wishful thinking, there was something true behind it. The darkroom had been left unattended for a while now, and Adam had been working on something for you on the day he had died. It seemed that your dream had given you a revelation.
Through a haze, you drove back to Adam's apartment. After his death, you didn't move out. You wanted to stay in the apartment because it was the last thing you had of him. That and the rest of his belongings. You couldn't leave this place, the thought gave you extreme anxiety. You bundled yourself into the apartment, and looked around the room.
Instantly, you had flashbacks to your dream. You glanced at the couch, and your heart felt heavy. You could feel Adam's hands on your body, and feel his lips on your mouth. The smoke had long ago been filtered out, but you could still smell and taste the dry flavor. You swallowed, and looked back in the kitchen. There was no pie baking there now, it hurt you too much to acknowledge this.
You lightly crossed the wooden floor and glided over to the darkroom. It had been three months since you had gone in there.
Three months since you had talked to Adam.
Three months since you had been WITH Adam.
Three months since the DEATH of Adam.
You gasped as you put your hand on the cold and dusty doorknob. The door creaked sorrowfully, as it pitifully gave in to your demands. It was dark inside, which was ironic, seeing as the purpose of the room was to be lit up. And the name made it funny, it was a 'darkroom' after all.
Unenthusiastically, you stepped inside. Your hand trailed the wall, like it had done many times before, and flicked on the red lights above. They came on with a light buzz, they were older than you had expected them to be. Had Adam even changed them while he was still alive? You let your eyes fall upon the photos that were all strung up in a row. They had developed nicely, it seemed.
You plucked one off the line and held it up to the light. It was a picture of you, in all your glory. You were in your best outfit, sitting in a patch of sunlight on the couch. The setting sun captured your face and darkened everything else, highlighting only your face. The rest was in dim shadow, so you could still see it but nothing was drawing attention to it.
The other pictures were similar but not the same. The majority was of you, but there were still a good number that were of you and him together. They were taking from interesting angles, with different lighting. Sometimes he was posing and other times you were posing. You couldn't help biting your quivering lip. This was all too much! Why hadn't Adam been here to see your reaction? Why hadn't he given them to you from the beginning? Why hadn't you looked at these before now? Why, why, why, why?
Sadness tugged at your heart and you sat down on your knees, clutching the photographs to your chest. You wouldn't be giving these up. They were too precious for you. You couldn't think properly; your mind felt like it had lost all of its abilities. The only thing you knew how to do was cry. You missed him. You missed him so much. The world was lifeless and hopeless, nothing would ever be the same. All you wished was to be back in that moment within your dream, outside was too gruesome. But alas you could not go back to then, and you were trapped in this miserable hellhole. You wondered why your life was so unfortunate. What had you done to deserve this?
In your fit of sobs and whimpers, you lost yourself to the grief. A long time passed after that, and you spent it all on the floor, but as the light peaked over the horizon and spilled through the living room window, your crying was put to a stop, and you yourself were dragged down by something stronger, and certainly much more necessary; slumber held you close and refused to let you go but something more was there, hidden under the photos that were pressed firmly to your bosom. There was something familiar about the warmth though, almost like it was Adam's loving embrace. It wreathed around you, and in the darkness it soothed you into a fitful burrow of sleep from which you did not know if you would even awaken.
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