SMii7Y+ House Oneshots

{TW} Stay with Me - Puffer × Reader

TW: Talk of Attempted S*icide
This is an angst, so please be careful when reading. I needed to get words onto a page to express how I feel when things got tough, and it is a sensitive topic, but Y/N does not die. I had wrote so much and thought it would be a waste to delete. Please stay safe.

Not Requested

They/Them Pronouns

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Puffer's POV

Tapping onto Discord, I check their account. They had not been online all day. It was 1:31pm. Way too late to be a lie in for them, it never got this bad. I click my fingers against my desk, ideas pondering in my mind on how to approach the situation carefully. I had no idea if they wanted space or not, so calling would be a bad option. I refuse to cut it out of the equation, however. Their username burns into my eyes, highlighting the memories we had together. The most fun I have ever had was always with Y/N.

It had been a few days since I last heard their voice, their laugh and their stupid remarks. We had exchanged a few messages since then, but not as many as our usual amount. Their responses were commonly dry, indicating their lack of energy, but I brushed it off. The panicked thoughts overwhelmed my mind, tricking me into ringing them. As I unlock my phone, I notice a message from my best mate - I dismiss it for now, as they were my main focus. Pressing the green, circular button, the phone rang out sharply. Thirty seconds past, nothing. I could tell I was not hung up on, increasing my anxiety levels more. Sighing, I check the message from my friend, responding as soon I finish reading.

{Nelson}:
Hey Chris, have you heard from Y/N?

{Chris}:
No, I haven't. Have you?

{Nelson}:
Nope. They've been super quiet recently, maybe go and see them?

{Chris}:
I dont wanna disturb them though

{Nelson}:
I'm sure they'd understand if you went over cus of the situation rn

I take a deep breath. Nelson was right: if I go to their house, and they are fine, they would understand why I went over. Lifting myself off the cushioned seat, I sprint down the stairs, slipping a pair of shoes on with ease. Clutching onto my keys, I rest my phone inside my right pocket, swinging the door open and shut, locking it behind me. Stepping towards my car, it unlocks and I pull the handle to open the door. It reveals a dark seat with a steering wheel built in front, I climb onto it and force my keys into the body.

I manage to set myself up for the short drive in under three minutes, rolling the vehicle out of the garage and driving along the rode with speed. It was only a ten minute trip, and I decided to approach in silence. Fear consumed my mind, fretting that I had left it too late. I would not want to lose them, of all people.

Eventually, I reach their house, switching the engine off as soon as it was safe. Yanking the seatbelt away, I jump out of the car, locking it behind me as I stride to the front door. Bash, bash, bash. My fist echoes off of the door. A couple of seconds, nothing. I repeat. Nothing. Deep inhale, I step back. Kicking the door down with ease, I begin my rushed hunt around the house, glancing everywhere. Downstairs was clear, so I force my feet up the steps, the sound travelling through the walls. Their bedroom was empty, their office was empty, and their cupboard was empty. The final room to check was the bathroom. Creaking the door open, I finally found the missing person.