Pour Me
Request: Hey I was wondering could you do a Dan x reader inspired by a song Pour me by Hollywood undead. Something along the lines that Dan gets drunk and depressed and angry so when reader comes home and finds him like that takes away alcohol away from him and comforts him. Fluff and stuff
Word count: 831
Warnings: Alcohol abuse, angst, language
It is based off this song
I hope you enjoy, it was difficult to write! I will be reopening requests soon!
I wake up right about the mid-afternoon,
With the sun in the sky but night’s coming soon,
And I walk to the mirror just to fix myself,
Yeah life gets harder when you love nothing else
Dan’s eyes flickered open, the world still swaying slightly. His head was banging, and when he finally sat up, his hands were bruised and cut at the knuckles, a smashed bottle still lying next to him. He frowned, realising he must have fallen over and knocked himself out again. His eyes drifted over to the clock, before he pushed himself up, nudging the smashed bottle out the way with his foot before making his way downstairs, glancing in the mirror and sighing.
So I pick my pills from the counter drawer,
Pick my self-esteem up off the fucking floor,
I guess I’m a man of no recourse,
As I crack another bottle, got no remorse
He reached into his draw and pulled out his anti-depressant pills, swallowing a few. They helped him stay sober for another few minutes, allowed him to finally wash his face and change, before he opened his cabinet and pulled out another bottle of Vodka. Dan shook his head, taking a shot, then another, the usual feeling of floating slowly coming back to him.
And I’ll say a little prayer for the child in me,
I swear I used to be what I truly believe,
That I’m not just a man with these broken dreams,
That even I could go to heaven,
If I part the seas
Dan fell back on the sofa, wrapping his arms around himself. He was just in the position to see the mirror, and he still didn’t recognise himself. His eyes were bloodshot and slightly stir crazy, greasy hair hanging limply over his face. He thought of his YouTube channel, how he hadn’t uploaded in weeks, perhaps months. Phil had stopped coming back to sort him out, and Dan missed him, wanted him to come back this time and fix him. Dan began to sob, clutching his jumper.
People get sickened to watch you bleed,
When you fell from the top, boy you better believe,
At the bottom, they got just, yeah, just what you need,
Well at the bottom, you can’t swim ‘cause you drank up the sea
Dan didn’t notice the door opening or your shocked expression as you saw him on the sofa, Phil coming in after you. He didn’t see the way you began to cry, and Phil put his arm round you. You made your way over, sitting next to him and pulling him into your arms, clutching him tightly. Dan froze for a minute before slipping his around your waist.
Then we stop and we look up to the sky,
They don’t ask any questions, they ask us why?
Don’t have any answers, don’t know what to say,
Our knees are getting tired,
Too tired to pray
“Why?” You seemed to be muttering repeatedly as you rocked Dan, and he didn’t reply, trying to find an answer but his head felt too fuzzy. You kissed him on the head, and Phil sat down beside you, not knowing what to say. Dan finally adjusted his body so he could sit with you normally, your arms still wrapped round him protectively.
“I was getting too tired of trying.” He breathed, and you buried your face in his neck. He didn’t smell the same, didn’t sound the same, didn’t feel the same. He wasn’t Dan.
That’s when we laid down the end of the road,
We all seem to walk and I guess I walked it alone,
And I’m not just a man with these broken dreams,
Even I could go to heaven,
If I part the sea
You and Phil stayed with Dan for the next few weeks, helping him sober up. He yelled and cried and smashed things, but some days he would sit down and watch a movie with you, kiss you on the cheek and thank you. He had tweeted saying he was making a video soon, which you were going to help him out with, explaining his absence.
He sat down in front of the camera, watching you turn it on. He patted the bed beside you, and you sat down, your fingers lacing together out of view.
“Hello internet.” He began. His voice was more serious than viewers had probably seen before, but a little more light-hearted than he had been in a while. “Today is not going to be fun video, for you to watch and for me to make.” He looked down, and you squeezed his hand. When he was ready, he began to talk about what happened, and in a few hours, the video was online.
“I love you.” He whispered as you laid together in bed, intertwined together. You smiled, nuzzling into his neck. This time, he smelt like Dan, felt warm and familiar. This time, it was Dan.
“I love you too.”
