Jim x Dwight Oneshots *smut warning*

Dwight the alcoholic

*TW mentions Domestic Abuse, Suicide, Alcoholism*

The sun sets on the vast expanse of the beet farm, casting an orange glow over the fields. The farm, once a symbol of shared dreams, now feels like a battlefield.

Jim's gaze rests upon Dwight, his heart heavy with the weight of their deteriorating relationship. The man he once knew, the strong and passionate Dwight, has been consumed by his demons. Jim remembers the days when they were first married, their love burning bright like the sun over the fields. But now, it feels like a distant memory, fading with each passing day.

Dwight's hands tremble as he clutches a bottle tightly, his eyes bloodshot and filled with anger. The alcohol has transformed him into a bitter and unpredictable figure, a shell of the man he once was. Jim watches as Dwight takes a swig, the liquid burning its way down his throat.

"Why do you keep nagging me, Jim?" Dwight's voice is laced with bitterness, his words slurred. "I don't need you or anyone else. I can handle myself just fine."

A surge of anger rises within Jim, a defensive shield he has learned to wear to protect his own shattered heart. "You don't need me?" he retorts, his voice tinged with coldness. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I should just leave you, Dwight. Let you drown in your own misery."

Dwight's face contorts with anger, his grip on the bottle tightening. He hurls it to the ground, the shattering sound echoing through the desolate fields. "Fine!" he bellows, his voice filled with a mix of defiance and desperation. "Go ahead, Jim! Leave! See if I care!"

"I don't even know why I stay with you," Jim retorts, his voice laced with bitterness. He can feel his heart shatter a little more with each passing moment. He longs for the Dwight he once knew, the man who would hold him close and whisper words of love.

"Don't you dare pretend like you care about me!" Dwight seethes, his voice trembling with a mixture of anger and anguish. "You're just like everyone else, trying to change me, trying to fix me. Well, guess what? I'm fine, Jim! And I don't need your pity!"

Jim turns away, his steps heavy as he walks towards the dilapidated farmhouse. He can't bear to look into Dwight's eyes any longer, afraid of the vulnerability and pain he might see reflected back at him. Yet, deep down, Jim knows that leaving is not an option. His love for Dwight, though buried beneath layers of anger and resentment, is unyielding.

As he enters the empty house, Jim's gaze falls upon a faded photograph of them on their wedding day. Their smiles, once filled with joy and hope, now seem distant and fractured. It serves as a painful reminder of the love they once shared, and the love that still lingers within their shattered hearts.

In the solitude of the farmhouse, Jim allows himself a moment of vulnerability. Tears stream down his face as he clutches the photograph, his voice barely a whisper. "I can't lose you, Dwight," he confesses, the weight of his words carrying the depth of his love. "I just can't."

Weeks have turned into months, and the once vibrant beet farm has become a battleground of shattered dreams and broken promises. Jim and Dwight continue their relentless cycle of arguments and resentful silence, their love buried beneath layers of anger and despair.

Tonight, as darkness blankets the farm, Jim's anger reaches its boiling point. He can no longer bear the sight of Dwight drowning himself in a sea of alcohol. The vomit that Jim used to clean up after Dwight's drunken binges still remains, festering on the floor. It's a sight Jim has grown all too accustomed to, but tonight something snaps within him.

With a surge of fury, Jim storms into the kitchen. His hands tremble as he grabs hold of the bottles of whisky that have become Dwight's crutch. One by one, he pours the contents down the sink, the amber liquid cascading into oblivion. Each splash is a defiant act, a desperate plea to save the man he loves from himself.