Stop Calling me That (mcyt + ftm reader) -Book 1/2-

-26-

((Alright, alright, you guys convinced me. All of your happy comments have made me decide not to turn you against Tubbo, even if it would have been temporary))

((Warnings: anxiety attack, kind of getting outed?, pretty bad self deprecation, self invalidation, food))

((Recap at bottom))

Y/n covered his mouth immediately to try to hide his crying, standing and speed-walking to the bathroom immediately. He was gone so fast that no one even had time to question it, if they'd even seen it.

He locked the door of the single stall bathroom beyond him, muffling the sounds of people speaking. He took the deepest breath he could manage in his current state, cringing at the strong scent of sanitizers and hand soap. The sweet scent of the ice cream  shop was completely absent in the small tiled room. 

He slid to the floor. Boys don't cry. The words repeated in his mind like a broken record as he hugged Phil's jacked to his chest, doing nothing to stop the tears rolling down his cheeks. 

Tommy's words circled around his head. Shorter than I expected. He was joking. He must have been joking. And yet... it still served as a reminder of what he was. What everyone saw him as. What they always would see him as. 

He didn't even have it within himself to wonder if anyone could hear him. Couldn't find it within himself to care.

A knock at the door cleared every thought from his mind, leaving him with only panic. 

"I-I- no, I'm in here, you c-can't-" he stuttered out, hoping that whoever it was got the message.

"Hey, it's alright," a reassuring voice came through, muffled but still audible. He heard a second voice in the background, as well as a response from the first voice, but couldn't make either out. "Can you unlock the door for me?"

He tried to refocus his eyes, blurred as they were with tears. He pushed himself to stand on shaky legs, stumbling halfway to the door. The voice was familiar, but in his current state he found himself unable to recognize who it was. The thoughts were kicking back in, although at this point they'd dissolved into half thoughts, far from coherent.

Wrong. They'll never see you that way. Girl. Small.

"It's just me, it's ok. Can you let me in so I can help?" the voice called out. Y/n could barely hear it over his own heavy breathing. He swallowed hard.

He'll see you. Hide. Hide. He doesn't like you. Who could? He likes 'D/n,' not you. Don't open the door. He'll see. He'll see.

Even as every part of his mind screaming not to, he forced his legs to move. Despite everything, somehow he knew, just knew, that he could trust this person, at least somewhat. He reached a shaky hand, turning the handle just enough to unlock the door before stumbling back into the wall and sliding back down to the floor. He wiped at his eyes as the door swung open just a crack and someone slid in. The figure crouched down in front of him.

"Hey, it's ok, D/n, just-"

Y/n started crying harder.

"Ah shit, ok, you can hear me then, right?" he asked.

He forced a shaky nod, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to catch his breath.

"Ok, that's good." Y/n felt the person grab his hand, pulling it against their chest. "Feel my breathing? Try to breathe with me mate, it's ok."