Oooh. Can i get a fic where the reader is autistic and has a sensory overload, and Malcolm comforts them?
This hit particularly close to home because I am actually autistic. Now, autism is a spectrum, and everyone with autism has different symptoms and reactions. So while most of us have sensory overload now and again, my reaction might be different from someone else’s. This was written from my perspective, drawing from something that sets me off and how I used to react to it when I was younger.
Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of how an autistic person might feel during sensory overload, including feelings reminiscent of panic attacks.
(Y/N) closed the lunchbox and sighed. She hoped Malcolm would like the food she made for him today because she was pleased with her handiwork. He always forgot to eat when he was on a big case, so she tried to make lunch for him whenever she could.
She walked to the precinct, lunchbox in hand, as she watched her breath create fog in the cold air. (Y/N) was happy to be greeted by the warmth of the building when she arrived, as well as the warmth in Malcolm’s smile. “(Y/N)! What are you doing here?”
“I brought you lunch.” She beamed back at him. Malcolm’s happiness was contagious, and she loved that he always broke out into a smile when he wasn’t expecting her. (Y/N) handed the lunchbox to Malcolm and he looked down at it. He was struck by how sweet (Y/N) was. She worried about him and did little things to help, like making his lunch. His gaze returned to (Y/N)’s face as he reached out to place his hand on her arm in appreciation. Malcolm was always careful, reading her expressions to make sure she was ok with being touched in that moment.
(Y/N) was autistic, and they had discussed her boundaries. She learned how to hide most of her symptoms from the outside world, but she couldn’t fool Malcolm. The longer they dated, the more he noticed her slip-ups. She was surprised when he confronted her about it, because no one had ever noticed her quirks before. But he was extremely understanding, and learned how to help her when she couldn’t contain herself.
This was an instance where she welcomed his touch. She couldn’t understand why, but she didn’t mind being touched by someone she loved, even though the same touch from someone else would set her off.
Before he could begin to say, “Thank you,” the fire alarm rang out. Even Malcolm flinched when he heard the sound, but (Y/N) felt really and truly assaulted. The alarm’s screeching pierced her ears and the bright flashing from the alarm lights blinded her. She clapped her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could. Malcolm was looking all over the room, searching for any signs that they were in immediate danger. When his eyes landed back on (Y/N), he found her hunched over, cowering.
Hot tears stained her cheeks as she tried to contain the screams begging to be released. She could feel herself hyperventilating, and her chest grew tight. (Y/N) was starting to have a panic attack, and she couldn’t even fathom attempting her calming techniques in this chaos. Her legs grew weak beneath her. Her mind went blank as she lost every word she had ever known because her fear and pain were too great.
Malcolm watched in horror as (Y/N) deteriorated in front of him. He had never seen her break down before, and he had no idea how to fix the situation for her. He wanted to hold her, comfort her, but he couldn’t. The last thing she needed right now was to be touched, and that presented another problem. (Y/N) was so deeply trapped in her personal hell that she wasn’t attempting to flee the building like everyone else. How could Malcolm get her to safety? She wouldn’t be able to hear him over the alarm, her eyes were glued shut, and he couldn’t touch her.
After a quick moment of deliberation, he decided that, even if it inflicted more pain, touching her was his only option. (Y/N) needed to be removed from this situation, and that would only happen if he could lead her to the safety of the open air outside the building. Malcolm grabbed her by the arm, and she cried out. (Y/N) couldn’t hold back her screams any longer, and her voice started to contend with the sound of the fire alarm. As much as her screams hurt his heart, Malcolm knew he needed to be strong and pull her out of this situation. With his grip still tight, he pulled her against her will down the hallway and out of the building.
When they made it outside, down the steps and onto the sidewalk, Malcolm let go of her. She was still screaming, and it pained him to know how embarrassed she was going to be later when she calmed down. All he could do was try to shield her from the onlookers, and offer comfort with his words. Even though he was certain she wouldn’t be able to hear him over her cries, he spoke anyway with a low and calm voice.
“(Y/N), we’re outside now, away from the alarm. This will get better soon. I know you are in a lot of pain right now and you’re very frightened, but it will go away.”
(Y/N) shed her coat and flung it to the ground. Her clothes were smothering her, and she desperately tried to free herself as she suddenly felt claustrophobic. Malcolm continued speaking as she undid the buttons on the sleeves of her blouse. He viewed this as progress because she was no longer covering her ears, and her screams turned into whimpers.
Gil made his way through the crowd, trying to find his way to Malcolm and (Y/N) because he heard her screaming. When he managed to push through, he found Malcolm standing in front of her, guarding her with his arms stretched out to keep anyone else from approaching. He walked up behind Malcolm and whispered into his ear. “Is everything alright? What’s going on?”
Malcolm whispered back, trying not to distress (Y/N) any further. “She’s having a break down. I’ll explain later, but for now she just needs space.” He turned back to continue speaking to (Y/N), and he found her tugging at the collar on her shirt. It wasn’t particularly close to her neck, but she still felt it closing in on her, so she started to take her blouse off. She had a tank-top underneath because the blouse was sheer, so she was still covered up.
“Focus on what feels good. Feel the cold wind on your skin, and smell the freshness of the open air. Take slow, deep breaths. Breathe it all in. What do you smell?”
Her thoughts were racing as she stood still before him. She had been surrounded by a tornado of sound and light, but it was starting to dissipate. (Y/N)’s breathing slowed but her chest was still tight and painful. She took in the fresh air like Malcolm had instructed, and she started to smell the warm pretzels from the cart a block away. Malcolm continued speaking, giving her something to cling to as she grounded herself.
“Now, let everything else fade away around you. Quiet your thoughts, and find your center. Keep breathing, nice and deep.”
The tightness in (Y/N)’s chest started to loosen. She managed to open her eyes, and everything before her blurred together. She suddenly felt light-headed and weak as the tension in every muscle lessened. Her voice was soft and meek as she spoke to herself. “I’m ok.”
Malcolm smiled at her. “You are. You made it through, and you’re ok.” He knew he shouldn’t touch her, but the arms he held out to guard her moved inward, offering a hug. She looked at his outstretched arms hesitantly, and instead placed her hand in one of his. (Y/N) couldn’t handle the closeness of an embrace right now, but she still wanted the comfort he offered her. He understood, and rubbed her hand with his thumb. Malcolm’s smile never faltered. “I’ll stay right here with you for as long as you need.”
(Y/N) started to cry again, silently this time. She cried because she was still wounded by the storm she just endured, and also because of Malcolm’s extreme kindness. They stood together on the sidewalk while the fire department went through the building. Even after the building was cleared and everyone around them left, Malcolm stayed with (Y/N), talking calmly with her and distracting her from her surroundings. Only when she was ready, did Malcolm let go of her hand.
I'm going to close requests for a minute because I have a handful I'm working on, and I'm really busy with trying to get back to work. Thank you for your prompts!!
I want to start off by saying I love your docs, and spent like an hour reading them, and then asking for a really angsty malcolm x reader where she had a son that she lost before they met and only Gil knows about it, and they’re a case of something about kids dying, and end the end it’s too much and she breaks down and Malcolm is there and comforts her? Maybe she goes a little insane and he has to stop her from doing something?
Please take the trigger warnings very seriously. Some people may find a lot of the content very disturbing.
Trigger Warnings: Extreme child abuse, abuse of an infant, murder of an infant, medical tragedies involving an infant that leads to death, violence against a woman.
Gil stood in front of the doorway to the house. He reached his arm out to stop (Y/N) as she was approaching the threshold. “I don’t think you should work this one.”
“What do you mean? I’ll be fine. This is my job. I can handle anything.”
“No, you don’t understand.” Gil had a stern look on his face. “I don’t think you can come back after seeing this.”
“I said I’ll be fine. Just let me through.” She pushed his arm out of the way and followed the trail of forensic investigators to one of the bedrooms upstairs. A group of them parted to let her into the room. Before her was the body of an eighteen-month old.
He was clearly beaten to death. He was covered in bruises, and there was an indentation on the back of his head where he had been thrown against the wall. The evil that lead to his demise was heavily contrasted by the pure face of a sleeping angel.
The room was nearly silent. Everyone’s imaginations were running rampant with images of a baby being beaten, and the bone-chilling cries he would have let out. All that could be heard were the whispers between forensic scientists and Edrisa as she examined the body. The room was silent enough that (Y/N) could hear the father sobbing in the living room downstairs.
(Y/N) pulled herself away from the scene to go talk to the father. She found him distraught, with red and puffy eyes. (Y/N) just listened to his conversation with Dani.
“I’ve been gone on a huge business trip for about a week. I thought I could trust my wife to take care of the baby, but I was wrong. I was so wrong…!” He was hunched over himself, holding his eyes as he continued to cry. “She’s just been so angry lately. I don’t know what’s wrong, but she doesn’t want to be around the baby. She kept complaining that her head hurt, and the baby was making it worse. I thought they would be ok together while I was gone, but…”
Dani was calm when she spoke. “Do you know where your wife might be?”
“I have no idea. She doesn’t have any family around here, and she has alienated herself from her friends because she has been so angry.”
They gave him their condolences and went back to the precinct to start investigating the whereabouts of the suspect. When they got there, Gil pulled (Y/N) to the side. “Are you ok? I really think you should sit this one out.”
“I can’t. I… I need to see that justice is served for this baby.” Even though she claimed she was alright, there was a storm deep inside her. It was filled with rage, sadness, and even a touch of jealousy. She was jealous that this woman had a living, healthy baby while hers was not.
Gil didn’t want to push her, so he let her stay on the case against his better judgement. Malcolm noticed that something was wrong with (Y/N), but he just assumed that she was deeply disturbed by the nature of the case. As they were discussing their leads, another officer told them that there was activity on the suspect’s credit card. They tracked it to a local motel, and the team decided to go apprehend her.
They decided to split up when they got there, just in case. Malcolm and (Y/N) stuck around the outside of the building where they could see if the suspect fled in a different direction than they thought she would. Surely enough, as Dani and JT were knocking on her door, (Y/N) saw the woman dart out from the exit on the side of the building. She ran after the suspect, and she was faster than Malcolm. When (Y/N) caught up to her, she tackled her to the ground and started punching her in the face.
Malcolm tried to pull (Y/N) off of her when he got to them, but in her anger, (Y/N) accidentally hit Malcolm in the face. He staggered backwards, surprised, and watched as (Y/N) continued to beat the woman into a bloody pulp. Malcolm tried to pull her off of the suspect again, lifting her up by her arms as he linked them with his own. As he pulled her off of the woman, (Y/N) started kicking her. When the others ran over to Malcolm and (Y/N), they found the suspect on the ground, unrecognizable through the blood that covered her face.
Gil exclaimed, “What happened here?!” He looked at (Y/N), still held back by Malcolm, and saw that she was crying.
She started to shout, her voice strained through her tears. “That’s how your baby felt!! Your own child!! That is what he felt during his last moments on this earth, and you did that to him!! He was just a baby!! He wouldn’t understand anger, because he should only know love!! You didn’t deserve to be a mother!! You don’t deserve to be happy ever again!! I hope you are beaten every single minute of every single day so that you will never forget what you did to that sweet, innocent child!!”
The suspect started to cry, and none of them were sure if she was crying because of her physical pain, or if she was crying because of the death of her baby and (Y/N)’s words. Gil yelled at Malcolm to pull (Y/N) away before she could do any more damage. He took her to the opposite side of the building where they could have some privacy.
He couldn’t hide his confusion and surprise. “What happened back there?!”
Her anger turned to sorrow as she sat on the ground. Malcolm kneeled down to be at eye-level with her, but she still averted her gaze. He waited for her to speak, and she finally did so with a small, sad voice.
“How can a mother not love her child? How can she find such evil in her heart that she’s compelled to beat her own baby to death? The screams and the cries of that baby… How could she inflict such pain and not even care?”
Malcolm’s voice was low and calm. He wanted to talk her through this, because it was clearly very disturbing for her. “I don’t know. We may never know.”
(Y/N)’s voice started to crack and squeak because she was crying so hard. “I would give anything, even my own life, to hold my baby in my arms again. I couldn’t save my baby, and she willingly gave hers away? She didn’t even give him away, she inflicted pain upon that innocent baby. She didn’t want her child, and I can’t imagine a life where I will never miss my own.”
Malcolm was shocked. (Y/N) had a baby? She never told Malcolm about him or why she no longer had him. Gil was the only person that knew, because he was there to watch her grieve. But a mother’s grieving for her child is never really over, is it?
Malcolm’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “You had a baby?”
(Y/N) nodded her head as she sniffled. She was crying so hard that her nose was uncontrollably running. “My little Henry. He was taken from me far too soon. I still love him so much.” Her voice squeaked again with her last words.
He was afraid to ask, but he wanted to prompt (Y/N) to talk about her baby. That was clearly what she needed to do right now, so that he could help her process her feelings about this case. “How did you lose him?”
She gulped. Her throat hurt from the strain of crying. “He had his first stroke a week after he was born. He seemed fine, except for some slight paralysis of his left leg. Still, I was so grateful that he was alive and smiling. But then he kept having strokes, and we didn’t know why. Sometimes he would have seizures because his brain had been damaged. My baby became trapped inside his own body, and I had no way of knowing if he was in pain. I held him every day and cried. I cried for hours, because I knew that he had already suffered more in his short life than I ever would. And just as he was approaching eighteen months old, he had his final stroke. It killed him.”
(Y/N) stopped and took a deep breath. She hadn’t talked about her baby in a long time, and it brought back all of the pain she had tried to keep contained within herself. Her words started to become unintelligible as she continued. “I miss him so much, but I feel like a terrible mother. Because I am glad that he finally escaped his pain, and his soul is free.”
Malcolm reached out and pulled her close. She clung to him, sobbing. This all made sense to him now. (Y/N) watched her son suffer, hoping he wasn’t in pain, and she was just exposed to a woman with no love for her baby at all. Nothing he could say would make this right. All he could do was hold her and wipe away her tears. And he was willing to do that for as long as it takes.
Author’s Note: There was no place to fit this into the story, but I wanted to share what I thought of as I wrote this. After arresting the woman they found the motel room covered in vomit and multiple bottles of headache meds on the bedside table. During medical examination at the ER (she would have to be taken care of so she wouldn’t die in police custody) they found a big brain tumor. It affected her personality, making her angry, and made her capable of killing her child. This gave her the headaches, made her hearing super sensitive, and finally started to make her uncontrollably sick. She didn’t survive long enough to go to trial, but her lawyer would have pleaded insanity.
I have to get something off my chest about Malcolm's sexuality. I like to imagine that he is bisexual, and I use that when I write my fics. I'm fairly certain Martin wouldn't care, as long as he can continue to manipulate Malcolm and try to mold him into a killer. And I also think Ainsley wouldn't care because she would only care that Malcolm finds happiness. But what about Jessica?
She comes from a super rich family that strikes me as being really conservative. She is always concerned about the family's image, but would that keep her from accepting Malcolm's queer identity? I want, with all my heart, to believe that Jessica would only care about Malcolm's happiness, like Ainsley, but I have a bad feeling about this. Would she threaten to cut off her monetary support if he came out? Is he forbidden from seeing men out in public?
I just.... I can see it - the moment Jessica found out. She's pacing around her sitting room, drink in hand. Her head is shaking slightly from anger and embarrassment as she starts to lecture him. Poor Malcolm is just standing there, eyes on the floor, listening. Jessica lets him have it and he leaves dejected.
I desperately hope I'm wrong. I want to be wrong so badly, it hurts. But I can't get that image out of my mind.
I love your Malcolm x reader one shots!! Can I please have one where Malcolm/reader lost (death) an ex who was a very good friend to them. It can be a hurt/comfort where one of them loses such a great friend who they were also in love with in the past and the other can comfort. I never see such stories in fandoms. Not all relationships end bitterly afterall. And our current partner can be there for every kind of grief we face. Love everything you write!!!
Thank you so much!! I hope you like this one, too!
Trigger Warnings: Car accident, vague descriptions of trauma, saying goodbye to a dead loved one.
If you aren’t LGBTQ+ friendly, this isn’t for you 😬
(Y/N) sat down at the little table inside the café, and she smiled at the both of them happily. “Have you ordered?”
Johnathan shook his head. “No, we just got here. I ordered a water for you, though.” He nodded his head in the direction of the glass of water set in front of her.
“Thank you.” She took a sip just as the waitress came to take their order. After she left, (Y/N) asked, “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Pretty good. There’s this piece that I haven’t been able to sell for a really long time, and this woman shows up out of the blue….” Johnathan was incredibly invested in his work as an art dealer, and he liked to talk about it whenever he could.
Malcolm sat back in his chair with a small smile playing across his lips. He loved seeing them interact like this. Never in a million years did he expect them to get along so well and develop their own friendship. Malcolm had been great friends with Johnathan for a few years, and they even dated at one point. He asked Johnathan to help him come out to (Y/N) as bisexual by introducing him as Malcolm’s ex, and he agreed. He didn’t expect (Y/N) to take the news badly, but he also didn’t anticipate her becoming friends with Johnathan.
The three of them went out to lunch regularly, because it seemed like that was the only time that they were all free to meet up with each other. This lunch was like countless others; happy conversations filled with laughter. When they said goodbye at the end of their meal, they had no idea that it was the last goodbye they would ever have.
It was late in the afternoon when Malcolm got the phone call. The caller ID said it was from Johnathan’s mother, and Malcolm was a little confused. She usually didn’t reach out to him, so he was curious about what she had to say. He answered the phone and a chill went down his spine as he heard her hysterically crying.
“He’s been hit! Oh my God, he’s been hit!”
Malcolm was able to calm her down enough to figure out what she was saying. When she finally got the words out, his stomach dropped. Johnathan had been in a car accident and was in the hospital, fighting for his life.
He rushed to the hospital and was forced to sit out in the waiting room. Johnathan’s mother met him there, but (Y/N) couldn’t get off from work to be with them. Johnathan’s mother explained what had happened to Malcolm. Johnathan was driving and approached a green light at an intersection. He was the first car to cross the intersection, and even though his light had been green for a while before he got there, a semi-truck continued to drive through it when his light was red. Maybe the truck was moving too fast to stop and thought they could make it through the intersection? Regardless, the semi-truck t-boned Johnathan’s driver side and pushed him a considerable distance down the road.
A few moments later, which felt like an eternity for Malcolm, they were brought back into the ER and shown into one of the trauma bays. Johnathan had died due to the severe trauma caused by the force of the accident, and they were going to say goodbye to him.
Malcolm was met with a gruesome sight. The nurses laid a blanket over him to cover his mangled body, but they left Johnathan’s face visible so that Malcolm and Johnathan’s mother could say goodbye. She immediately rushed to Johnathan’s side, sobbing. She held her hands over him in the air, afraid to touch her dead son because that would make her worst nightmare come true. Malcolm stood beside the bed, taking in the image of his dead friend. Even though the nurses tried to hide the destruction of his body and the physical evidence of Johnathan’s pain, Malcolm could still see it in his face. Half of his face was broken, bones clearly shattered. It was like a scene from a horror film, looking upon Johnathan’s bloody remains.
Malcolm was numb during the entire ride home. As soon as he entered his apartment, he curled up in bed. (Y/N) came home fifteen minutes later to find Malcolm in the fetal position, crying. He had texted her a simple message: “Johnathan is dead.” (Y/N) didn’t know the details, only that Johnathan had been in a car accident. She took off her shoes and laid down on the bed beside Malcolm, spooning him from behind. After she wrapped her arms around him, he held her hands. His grip was tight as his cries turned into sobs.
In this moment, (Y/N) knew that she needed to wait before talking to him. He needed to have this good cry first. She held Malcolm without moving, waiting for him to talk. He finally turned silent, tears still streaming down his face, when he spoke with a hoarse voice. “He’s gone.”
(Y/N)’s voice was soothing, low, and quiet. Even though she was devastated by the loss, she had to be strong for Malcolm. His sorrow was greater than hers, and she needed to help him start grieving. “I know, but he will always be with us. He will be in our hearts forever. We will never forget about him and the happiness he brought with him everywhere he went.”
Malcolm started to sound pitiful, like a small child that can’t process their feelings because they are too great. “It’s not fair. So many evil people in this world continue to live while he is dead.”
“You’re right, it’s not fair. But we shouldn’t think about all of those people right now. We should think about the joy that Johnathan brought into our lives.”
He paused for a minute as he continued to silently cry, absorbed by his own thoughts. His next words fell out of him without much thought. “I loved him. Don’t get me wrong, I love you, but I loved him, too. My love for him was romantic a long time ago, but it evolved into a deeper one, only found through true friendship. And now that is lost.”
(Y/N) understood what Malcolm was trying to say. Even though they were only friends, there was a special bond there that could only be described as love. She continued to try to soothe him with her words. “Your love for him isn’t lost. That’s why this hurts so much, and that’s why you will miss him.” She started to cry, and Malcolm could hear it in her final words. Her voice started to shake. “You will miss him and cry for him, not because that love is lost, but because that love will live on forever.”
Malcolm gripped her hands even tighter. Those were the exact words he needed to hear right now. She held him and they cried together, mourning the loss of their friend.
