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

-29-

((If you have an allergy to peanut butter, no you don't <3))

((If you don't like peanut butter, yes you do <3))

((Warnings: implied and referenced ed (plus some specific actions), guilt, toxic thoughts, self-blame, isolation, food, masking (of emotions)))

Guilt.

A silly little feeling. And one which absolutely festered.

Guilt. Y/n felt his insides absolutely turn with it as he sat no more than a few feet away from Wilbur the next day. It was a few hours after breakfast, where Wilbur had left his oats plain, joking that he wouldn't know the difference anyway. Y/n couldn't help but wonder if there was more to it than that. Even just thinking like that, overanalyzing, made him guilty.

He knew that nothing had truly changed, not between the two of them at least, but between this newfound knowledge of his and having invaded Wil's privacy like that left him unreasonably anxious in the other's presence.

He couldn't help but watch closer. He still wasn't entirely sure that that morning hadn't all been a dream. Wilbur was acting so... so normal. He watched as he bickered with Tommy, just as talkative and silly as he always was.

When Sapnap had finally come back inside, joking about how he'd forgotten why he was in a strangers car and panicked for a second, Wilbur had laughed right along with everybody else.

He desperately searched to find whatever it was that Wilbur had seen in him. The difference. He'd said it was 'easy to spot a fake smile when you knew the difference.' Y/n hadn't considered that he might have meant that so personally.

It took a while, but the longer he stared, the more... apparent the little things became. He started to understand what Wil had meant.

Wilbur was better at putting on a show than he'd ever been, but if he really looked, he could see the cracks. He could see the way that Wilbur hid the dulled look in his eyes by opening them just a little wider than necessary, the reflection of the lights mimicking the sparkle he sometimes had. He could see how his smile fell just slightly when no one was looking. Could see the shadow under his eyes. It looked like he'd tried covering it up, and had nearly been successful. At a glance, he was just fine.

Of course he didn't think Wilbur was faking all of the time, or even most of the time. He was a genuine person after all... just.. a tired one.

The others were talking about something, probably plans, but y/n didn't process a word of it. The only thing going through his mind was the same thoughts which had been swirling in his mind since that morning.

You shouldn't know. He can't know that you know. You'll make everything worse. You're making him worse.

Phil had said something about Wilbur getting worse when he was stressed, and Y/n knew he must be a source of that. So he'd just... stop being that. Wilbur had enough going on as it was, he didn't need to be dealing with all of Y/n's problems on top of that. Y/n could handle himself just fine.

"D/nnnnnnnnn!"

He jumped as someone shouted at him, realizing they'd probably been trying to get his attention for a while. Looking around, he found the room nearly empty. Just Tubbo, Phil, Wilbur, and him. He had no idea when or where the others had gone.

"Hey! There you are!" Tubbo smiled at him. "You alright? Seemed pretty out of it there."

"Oh, yeah! Sorry," he smiled back, trying to ignore his own thoughts.