Hello, if you’re still doing moral orel I’d like to request some clay x reader hcs. Anything. I’m binging the series rn and the brainrot is real. He’s going straight to my f/o list for sure-
Anon, you are so valid!! I hope you like this, but be warned that it might be a bit upsetting! ^^
"I can't believe you would do this to me," Clay's voice was hoarse and cracked from yelling. The man looked over top of you, your prone body caged between his legs as he loomed over you, face shadowed in darkness. But even still, you could just barely see the outline of tears. Fat tears rolled down his face, burning his cheeks and dripping down his chin, staining the fabric of your clothing.
You pressed yourself even closer to the floor, as though his gaze itself was weighing you down. You panicked, fearful breathing matched Clay's own - the quick inhale-exhale that huffed out his nose, the way his body shuddered with every shallow breath.
"I can't believe you'd fucking do this to me!" Clay sobbed, teeth bared, spit flying from his mouth. He shook with rage, fists balled up at his sides, the both of you just staring at each other in the dark.
It was one of Clay's rules. The shades were always drawn. No one could see inside. No one could look at you. You could not leave. And when Clay came home from work, he left all the lights off, like he preferred in his study. And just as suffocating.
It is any wonder why you tried to bolt as soon as you thought him too drunk to stop you. You had been so close. Sunlight on your skin, the sound of birds chirping happily in your ears, the feel of the breeze on your skin.
And then, Clay's iron grip on your wrist.
His hand clamped over your mouth before you could scream for help.
And then he dragged you back into the darkness, kicking and screaming.
Clay stumbled, groaning a bit as he lost his balance, just barely catching himself before he fell flat onto his ass. Alcohol was a cruel mistress. Though it was easier to deal with his life through the lenses of his beer-goggles, it also made the world much, much*dizzier. And as he caught himself, he watched as you flinched underneath him.
You watched his expression shift and his eyes burn deep into you.
"How dare you!?" He spat. "You have no right! No fucking right! I…" Clay trailed off, posture slowly wilting. He sniffled. "You… You tried to leave me…"
Clay wrapped his arms around himself in a hug, trying desperately to soothe himself. Even like this, pathetic as he may seem, Clay was terrifying. At any moment, his rage could once again rear its ugly head.
But not this time, it seemed.
His eyes drifted from you. Instead, he stared off into the distance, at one of the drawn curtains. He rubbed his arms and swallowed.
"Why? Why does everyone leave me?" He asked. Was he asking you? Himself?
He held himself for a little while, standing silent on wobbly legs. Eventually though, his gaze fell back on you, though now far less intense. Slowly, Clay slid to his knees - but it still made you flinch.
"Please, please, don't leave me," Clay begged, gathering you up in his arms. "I love you. I love you. Please don't leave me. Not again, please…"
In the darkness, Clay sobbed against you, his face buried into your shoulder. He mumbled incoherent pleads for you to stay. His fingers dug into your skin.
You didn't hold him back. Instead, you craved your head toward one of the windows - eyes focusing on the little flits of light that snuck through the curtains.