Trans-Male Imagines

2/15/19 - Glad You Called

hey, guys. i know it's been a while. i'm so sorry. my mental health is really not in a great place: nightmares, not eating, daily anxiety attacks, dysphoria, almost self-harm relapses. you didn't need to know that but i guess they serve as warnings for the story? i've been a mess. and it's not fair to everyone who reads this. i've done this type of story before- it's more of a self-help drabble based off something that happened recently. pick any character/person you want, it's no one specific. heed the warnings; i care about all of you so, so much.

Pairing: any person (with male pronouns) of your choosing x reader

Warnings: talk of suicide, depression, almost self-harm relapse, panic/anxiety attack, swearing.

How had your day flipped so quickly? It had started off so well. You had gotten up on time, actually made a decent breakfast, had friends over just to hang out and talk for a while. You'd thoroughly enjoyed your time with them. You had been fine. So how had you gotten to this?

Huddled in a ball on the floor, left hand gripping your right like you hoped you could break your wrist. Your jaw twitched as you tried to hold back tears. Why me, why now, oh my god stop complaining. I hate you. Just cut. No! Stop it! Your head ached, and you let out a strangled cry. Pick up the goddamned phone. That thought had cut through like a bullet, loud and sharp and clear. You pulled your phone towards you, fumbling as you tried to unlock it. For once, your mind was too gone to hesitate. You opened your messages and typed out a frantic text, hands jittering madly. 

I'm so sorry I need help and I don't know what to do, and I'm afraid I'm going to hurt myself again.

The response was almost immediate. 

Where are you?

You took a shuddering breath. 

Sitting on the floor in my room. 

Are you okay?

Before you could reply, your phone had started ringing. You slid the call open, tears starting to roll. 

"Hey," he started, his voice quiet. "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere." You let out a small sob, and you heard a concerned sigh on the other end of the line. "I'm right here."

"I'm so sorry," you squeaked out, voice cracking. You doubted he could even hear you.

"You don't need to apologize, just tell me what's going on," he said calmly, an island in the middle of a raging sea; the eye of a hurricane. You hadn't made it through the storm yet. 

"I don't know, I don't know, it just happened, I don't know," you forced out, folding ever inward in the corner of your room. You heard a faint hum on the other end of the line and you pressed the phone to your ear, even as the plastic dug into your ear. 

"Slow down, hon, it's okay if you don't know right now. Are you still sitting down?"

"Yes."

"Okay, that's really good already. Take a deep breath, okay?" You did as he asked, and your lungs burned with relief. "Yeah, there you go. Can you do that again, darling?" He asked it like it was the most normal thing in the world- to have to instruct your boyfriend on how to breathe over the phone at eleven p.m. on a Saturday night. 

"Just like that, deep breaths, there you go," he soothed over the line, static crackling lightly every couple of seconds. It was quiet for another minute or so as you dried your eyes on the sleeve of your hoodie. 

"Feeling any better?" he questioned, concern laced through his voice. 

"Yeah... I- thank you."

"You're so welcome. I'm glad you called me." You took a deep breath.

"I really was going to," you started as your voice wavered in all the ways you hated. "If you hadn't answered I swear I would've." Your breathing quickened again but you forced yourself to calm down.

"I'm glad you didn't," he counters. "I love you." He paused, and you could hear him breathing. "You mean the world to me, you know that, right? I hope you know that. So many people would..." he trailed off, and you are left to imagine the expression on his face- eyes red and water, cheeks flushed, probably biting his lip in worry. You hated that it was because of you. He started again before you could spiral all the way back down. 

"I'm here for you. Any time you need me, got it? Any time. And I know I can't even begin to relate to what you're going through, and I know I probably won't ever fully understand. But thank you for trusting me, and for letting me in. That was really brave of you."

You closed your eyes and leaned over against the wall, curling the sweatshirt he had given you to your chest. You didn't know what to say, and the silence hung. 

"Wonderful boy," came his voice over the phone. The nickname pulled an involuntary smile to your lips. "I said it before, and I will say it again, over and over and over. I love you. I would miss you- god, I would miss you more than life if you ever decided that leaving was better than living. It's not. I promise you. You are so, so loved, and nobody who loves you wants to see you hurting like this."

"I- I know." The words had surprised you- you hadn't planned on speaking. "I love you, too. I want to get better. I... I need help." Even through the static, you could hear his sigh of relief. 

"And I'm going to be here to help you," he said quickly. 

"Thank you," you breathed, a wave of calm finally settling over you. The silence is back, but this time it feels warm and gentle, like the end of August. Even though you can't see him, you can picture his smile- the small one that he saves for when things are looking up. 

"I meant it. Anytime," he repeated solidly. "It's pretty late, hon. I'm going to put my phone on speaker, and you can talk to me anytime you want, but you should try and get some sleep- that's a good start to getting better."

"Okay," you said quietly. You lay your phone down next to your bed and shrug yourself under the blanket. "I love you."

"I love you too, wonderful boy."