Jacob Sartorius Imagines

Tree House (cute)

"Shhh, we're gonna get caught!" Jacob turned back and whisper-yelled with a smile on his face, attempting to silence your giggles.

"Sorry," You giggled, your hand leaving his grasp as he grabbed onto the side of the ladder. Placing his leg on the first step, he hoisted himself up, climbing the wooden ladder that led to the tree house up above.

He continued up until he reached the wooden trap door, pushing it open. The trapdoor swung open, falling against the floor of the tree house, making a loud thud that echoed through the yard. You both flinched, grimacing at the sound.

"And you're telling me that I'm the one that's gonna get us caught," you snickered, watching as Jacob rolled his eyes.

He climbed the last few steps and finally disappeared into the tree house. You took this as a cue to follow. You climbed the ladder just as Jacob had seconds ago—and your younger self had done hundreds of times—before entering the wooden tree house.

You looked up, seeing the familiar wooden walls and floors. It was darker in there than it had been outside; you figured it was due to the roof shielding the moonlight from coming in. You stood up straight, your head only inches from the roof. Looking to you side, you noticed Jacob looking out the small window cut into the wall. He was slouched down, too tall to stand up straight in the small room.

You took a look around the whole room, and memories of simpler times begun to come back to you. You saw the names of you and Jacob written on the wall in crayon, although could barely see. But, you knew exactly what the marks were, and you vividly remember the day you had scribbled them.

The two of you were only seven at the time. He wrote his name with a blue crayon and you did yours with a pink one. The pink didn't show up too well, so you redid it in a magenta shade. His writing was slightly sloppier than yours, but you were both so young at the time, that now they both looked terrible. But at the time, you had noticed and playfully teased him about it, proud that your writing was neater. And to this day, your handwriting is still neater than his.

You noticed the bunched up curtain at the top of the window Jacob gazed out of. It wasn't a curtain at all, as a matter of fact. It was a stained Dora blanket held up by strips of grey duct tape. The bottom of the blanket was held up by a thumb tack, allowing people to see out the window. Whenever you and Jacob felt like you needed privacy, or to have a super secret conversation that you had to pinky promise you wouldn't tell anyone, you would stand on a stool and remove the thumb tack, allowing the blanket to fall down over the window, shielding you from the outdoors.

You turned back to Jacob, your childhood best friend. He looked up at you, now seated on the floor, cross-legged. You could still see the same boy you'd spent hours and hours playing with. You could remember everything that went on in this tree house. You guys colored in coloring books, played Monopoly, (but you didn't know the rules so you never played right), and even wrote songs and choreographed them together. He always made you perform them in front of your parents, even though you never wanted to because you were embarrassed. But you still always did.

"This place brings back a lot of memories," Jacob finally broke the silence, interrupting your train of thought. It was as if he'd read your mind.

You sighed and weakly smiled. "Yeah." You got down onto the floor and sat down beside him, backs against the wooden wall.

Three years ago, when you were 14, your parents ended up getting a divorce and you and moved out of the house. Your dad left the city, while you and your mom moved into an apartment on the other side of town. You missed the house, and the tree house in its backyard. But you especially missed being neighbors with your best friend.

Other people moved in, and you'd found out months afterward that it was an older couple with no children. You worried that they'd take down the tree house, despite knowing that it wasn't yours anymore. But they never did. Jacob told you that he'd never seen anyone set foot in the tree house. He'd hardly ever seen the couple set foot outside of the house. They'd recently moved out, and the house was for sale again. It was vacant now, which is how you and Jacob got the idea to go back to the tree house.

"Y/n?" Jacob's voice was merely above a whisper.

"Hm?" You responded quietly, turning your head to look at him.

"D'you ever wish we could be kids again?"

You thought a moment before sadly smiling. You nodded slowly, "All the time." You breathed deeply. "I wish i could go back 10 years and relive everything again."

Jacob's face mimicked yours, a sad smile and yearning eyes. "I was thinking the exact same thing." It was quiet a minute. "I'm not ready to grow up." His sentence sounded weak, the last coming out as a quiet, dry chuckle.

Your throat moved as you gulped. "I'm not either, J."

The cool September wind blew through the window of the tree house. The air brushed against your face, and it felt good against your hot cheeks. With your hand resting on the wooden floor, you felt Jacob's hand slowly reach for yours. He grabbed your hand gently, holding it against his own. Your fingers intertwined together, resting on the floor.

You looked over at Jacob, seeing him looking straight ahead at the wall with your names scribbled on them in crayon. You wondered if he remembered writing them there as vividly as you remembered it. You took note of his fluffy brown hair being gently ruffled by the wind blowing into the tree house. He was actually pretty cute.

He blinked before turning his head in your direction. Your eyes met and you felt yourself soften under his gaze. His lips curled up into a smile, making yours do the same. His smile has always been contagious, just like his laugh.

It was then that you truly realized that everything was going to be okay, as long as you had him there. You weren't afraid to grow up, as long as you had him there growing up right along with you.

this really put me in my feels, like just the descriptions of childhood and the feeling of not wanting to grow up.

Q: how do you get inspiration to write your imagines?

A: theres a lot of ways:

1.) sometimes i shuffle my spotify and see what song comes on, and i can either build a story from the title or lyrics. (did this with: what what a feeling, cozy, and can i be her)

2.) i sometimes write from personal experiences or scenarios i wish would happen to me lol. (did this with: clouds & just me, him, and the moon)

3.) i go to a random word generator, and generate random words. i did this with this imagine. i got the word "nostalgia" and decided i could make a nostalgic story about childhood. i generated another word and got tree. then i decided to revolve the imagine around a tree house. so yeah just build a story from a random word. (did this with coffee, yellow roses & this imagine)

wow that's a long answer lol, other than that i just do whatever randomly comes to mind

vote and comment for more :)