reader inserts

shattered • charlie st george; 13 reasons why

prompt(s): "i'm pregnant" & "it's not yours"
character(s): charlie st george
fandom: thirteen reasons why
genre(s): angst
warning(s): teenage pregnancy; mention of rape (non graphic); name calling; misleading title???; written at 2am
other notes: fem reader
y/l/f/f: your least favorite food
r/f: random friend
g/n: guardian noun

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six months ago, charlie saint george officially asked you out on a date. it was after a game—liberty high had taken the win and he had spotted you, his best friend, in the crowd. with a big smile on his face, he approached you and, taking your hands in his, asked you to accompany him to rosie's, just the two of you. you gladly accepted.

four months ago, you and charlie had your first kiss. sometime after that, the two of you decided not to have sex until the both of you were absolutely sure you were ready and that you both wanted it. 

two months ago, charlie told you he loved you for the first time. in shock, you broke down in tears. it was the first time charlie had ever seen you cry. sure, when you watched a sappy rom-com, you made exaggerated sniffling noises, but this was the first time he had ever seen you really cry. 

when you calmed down, you told him you loved him too. and you did. truly. he was your favorite person; your best friend.

one month ago, charlie asked you to go to a party with him. it wasn't a liberty party. some other school, a couple towns southeast of crestmont. you didn't really remember how he knew the student who'd invited him—cousin? relative/friend of a friend? 

you entered hand-in-hand and stayed together for roughly an hour. charlie had wanted to go get a drink. you didn't want to be near the alcohol if you could help it. so he went into the kitchen and you wandered. not far. you saw a sculpture of cupid in the corner and just wanted to admire it. a stranger came up to you. 

admittedly, he was handsome. with short dark hair and grey eyes behind a pair of round spectacles. he had on a button up and khakis, with black boots. 

"i haven't seen you around school. you new?" he had asked.  

"no. actually i'm here with a friend." you'd tittered. thinking back, that was your first mistake. referring to charlie as a "friend." "we go to liberty high? you know where that is?" 

the stranger mulled over it for a moment before a look of realization dawned across his face. "oh. yeah. yeah, i know what you're talking about. my sister's husband's little sister goes there. ashley laird?" 

"i don't know her. sorry." 

"nah, it's fine."

you guys had talked for a little longer before you'd felt the need to pee. you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, unaware the young man had followed you. you hadn't even made it to the restroom when you'd been shoved into a coat closet, a warm hand pressed against your mouth, another on your neck.

you blink back tears as you're brought back to real time by the incessant brrringg-ing of the egg timer perched on the bathroom sink. you stand up, smoothing out the grey pair of sweats you'd thrown on earlier for your quick run to cvs. 

the past two weeks, you'd been experiencing headaches, constant fatigue, and an unusual craving for y/l/f/f; and a few days ago, r/f had joked that maybe you were pregnant. uneasily, you'd chuckled along but your stomach turned because the possibility was there.

you reach for the three pregnancy tests on the counter and turn them each over, one by one. 

positive ... positive ... positive. 

this time, you can't stop the tears from streaming down your face. your throat and chest tighten as you sink down on to the floor, bringing your knees to your chest. your sobs are silent, your chest heaving. you don't know how you're going to handle this. or how you're going to tell—

the doorbell rings. you don't hear it at first, deafened by the sounds of your own sobs. but then it rings again. three more times.

you're the only one home, your g/n having gone to work no more than a couple hours ago, and it's quite clear whoever is outside isn't stopping any time soon. you manage a deep breath, forcing yourself to stand up. you take a quick glance in the mirror, drying your cheeks, before heading toward the front door. 

you're not sure who you thought would be waiting on the front porch. a mailman with a package? a random citizen returning a lost animal to the wrong house, or maybe your g/n dropped their wallet at target on their latest run. you're not sure what you thought but you certainly didn't expect it to be charlie. 

he's smiling at you, but you can see the worry in his sparkling blue eyes. you hadn't talked to him since r/f made that terrifying remark three days ago which had worried him since you usually made it a point of yours to text him at least once every hour, be it a random pick-me-up or a meme, a link to some video you found on youtube whilst you were bored. 

"hey!" he greets. he wants to give you a kiss but something in the way you hold yourself tells him he better not. "i've been worried about you. are you okay?" 

no, you debate voicing. but your eyes are still puffy, and he's obviously noticed. you open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out aside from a choked sob.

slowly, he opens his arms. against your better judgment, you melt into his embrace. he rubs circles in the center of your back, pressing long kisses to the top of your head.

you love him so much.

you don't want to do this to him.

but it's not your fault, one part of your brain tells you.

it doesn't matter, the other part– the irrational part– says. you're fucked anyways.

"charlie?" you murmur. now or never. if you didn't tell him now, you don't think you ever would, and he'd find out eventually as your abdomen enlarged. "i- i have to tell you something."

"okay." he says slowly, pulling away to look you in the eyes.

you take a deep breath. "i- i'm pregnant."

you see his expression change from worry to confusion.

"i- it's not yours. but—"

"of course it's not mine," charlie chuckles lowly. through grit teeth, he manages, "whose is it?"

"i don't know his name, charlie. but please, lis—"

"so what? you just went out and fucked some random dude like a slut?"

"no! charlie, of course not! just list—"

"i thought we promised each other we'd wait."

you reach for him, but he steps back.

"how are you pregnant then, huh?"

"charlie, please!" you sob.

"don't! don't say my name ever again. don't talk to me. i- i have to go to work."

he turns and storms out of the house, slamming the door behind him, leaving you standing alone in the middle of your living room.

you fall to your knees as the sobs take over your entire being once again.