Emo Trinity x Reader

Brendon Urie x Reader - Someone to Hold Onto

Requested on Tumblr
Warnings: mention of drugs and alcohol, reader has a past with substance abuse
Word count: 1 410
A/N: I have no experience on the topic of substance abuse nor do I know anyone who does. So if you do and you feel like I made a mistake somewhere, am disrespectful, offending, anything like that, please let me know immediately!

Flashing lights ghosted over the crowd of people that you were moving through and the bass of the loud music was making the floor vibrate. You tightened your grip around Brendon's hand a little, anxious to lose him between the many people. He adjusted his grip a little as well, making sure that your fingers could not slip away. You smiled, trying to ignore the terrible smell of alcohol that was hanging in the air. Brendon quickly turned his head and shot you a reassuring smile before continuing to find his way in the maze of moving bodies. He knew you felt uneasy in the presence of drugs and alcohol. And that was no miracle given your past.

You had met Brendon through a friend at a party, a party where you had gotten totally and utterly wasted. Brendon had brought you home later that night, surprisingly not seeming to feel disgusted by your state. A few days later you met at another party again and slowly he picked up at you being victim of the helplessness that substance abuse brought along. For some reason he took it upon himself to help you. For you it was easier to take the help of a complete stranger than to ask friends or family for help. He got you into a good hospital, made sure that you went to see your therapist after you had been released and all the while he never judged you, or told you some of the other hurtful things other people usually said by accident. You tried to tell yourself that your growing feelings for him were just a misinterpretation of the help he had offered you, but when you finally told him about it, he confessed that he had taken interest in you the moment he had first seen you. A few awkward meetings later and you decided to give it a shot, whatever 'it' was. It started out with short, nervous kisses that later turned into longer, more passionate kisses and holding hands on the street.

Now, almost four years after you had first met Brendon, you knew that you had not just confused your emotions. You had really been in love with him, and the tiny, shy flower of 'in love' had proudly bloomed into the majestic, deep red rose of love.

In the beginning, Brendon had refused to take you to parties, scared that you might be triggered too easily, but a few weeks ago you had insisted that he could not just stay at home every time he was invited to a party. He did not want to go without you though, so after a few talks with your therapist, he agreed to take you along. Luckily the first parties had been comparatively harmless, not much alcohol, barely any drugs. It felt like training, so you could move through a drugged up crowd like this one without going completely crazy.

But that did not mean it was easy. You felt yourself grow fidgety at the increasing smell of alcohol and weed, but Brendon's hand around yours gave you something to hold onto.

Finally you escaped the dancing crowd and made it to the side where at a few tables people were already waiting for you. They cheered and waved at Brendon and you could feel the disbelieving stares of a few girls when they saw that Brendon was holding your hand. More routine than anything else, you let Brendon introduce you and sat down between him and a man who was apparently helping with some of the management.

You tried to listen to the conversation, tried to contribute a little at times, but most of your focus was on withstanding the urge to get yourself a glass of alcohol. But you knew you could not. It would not stay at one glass, or even worse, it would not just stay at alcohol. You clenched your fists and felt your fingernails painfully digging into your palms. Brendon had placed his hand on your knee, his gaze flickering over to you in concern every other moment. You took a deep breath. This was a lot harder than the last parties you had been at. You felt the urge grow stronger and stronger until your body was so tensed up, your arms started almost shaking a little.

"Do you want to leave," Brendon asked quietly, his hand moving from your knee and taking your hands into his.

Automatically you shook your head but then you remembered the words of your therapist. You were allowed to leave a social situation if it made you feel uncomfortable, and you were feeling extremely uncomfortable right now.

"You know what? Yes, I'd like to leave," you answered just as quietly and Brendon nodded immediately.

"Hey guys, I think we'll go home, I'm not feeling so well," he told the others, lifting a hand to his stomach to emphasize his words.

The others, especially the girls who had looked at you so weirdly in the beginning, started whining and said he should stay, they would get him some water, but he declined politely and stood up.

"I must have eaten something wrong, maybe the shrimps we had for lunch," he made up.

You had to suppress a little giggle, knowing that he had had the pasta with pesto for lunch that you had prepared together.

He took your hand and pulled you up as well. You waved good bye to the people you left behind and started to maneuver your way back through the dancing crowd. This time you were walking in front of him, his hands rested securely on your hips, gently guiding you.

"Drink?"

A young man appeared out of the crowd and held a tablet filled with glasses directly under your nose. The odor of alcohol flooded your brain and for a moment you were scared some old habits would take over, but before you even knew what you were doing, you had pushed past him with a harsh 'No'. Brendon followed you. He had already been prepared to deal with the man, but you had been quicker. Pride spread through his chest at seeing how strong you were and how far you had come.

Once you finally reached the door and stepped into the clean evening air, you took a deep breath. Brendon turned you around and quickly hugged you.

"I'm sorry, I should have known this would be too much," he mumbled apologetically, "are you okay?"

"I am now," you smiled weakly, suddenly feeling extremely exhausted from this little adventure. "Thanks for drawing the attention on yourself back there."

"Of course," Brendon smiled, pushing a strand of your hair out of your eyes, "I know how anxious you get when you think people pick up on you feeling uneasy."

You nodded and rested your head against his shoulder. His strong arms were still wrapped around you, holding you against his muscular body.

For a while you stood outside of the building, breathing in the cool evening air and listening to the sound of crickets mixing up with the loud music from the party.

"Let's go home," Brendon finally stated, kissing your forehead lovingly.

He took your hand in his and started walking to where you had parked the car, but you kept standing still. In surprise he turned around, raising his eyebrows at you.

"I love you so much," you whispered, suddenly overwhelmed by a rush of emotions. For a moment it seemed so dream-like that there was a person who cared so much for you, who loved you the same way you loved him, who was so amazing and did not even know it, and that you shared a house with this person, a life. "You are the best fucking thing in my life, and I want you to know that. I love you so much."

You tried to blink the tears away that suddenly burned in your eyes and quickly hugged Brendon again. He chuckled lowly and wrapped his arms around you once more.

"Trust me, you are the best fucking thing in my life, and hey," he pushed you away a little to be able to look at your face. He leant down and pressed his lips against yours in a quick, but sweet kiss, "I love you too."

You smiled up at him and he smiled back, before he pulled you to his side and you walked to the car together.