::MCYT x MALE READER::

::Wilbur x Male reader::

Not proofread
Warnings:Reader is trans and uses He/him pronouns! Pre-transition, Emotional, Ansgt to fluff, abuse mention, panic attack, harmful fidgeting.
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"Alright Wilbur, see you in a bit!" I said as he waved me goodbye and closed the door. He was on his way to his office to do some editing on his recent vlogs he has recorded with his other friends. He tells me about them but I'm too shy to meet them though.

I sighed as I leaned back on the sofa and placed a pillow on my lap. Wilbur and I have been dating for a while now, like eight months now I think. We've moved in together and things are going pretty good to be completely honest. Thing is, we haven't even had sex before.

It's not that he doesn't want to is that I quickly change the subject and he's quick to back away and readjust to the new situation. I love that part about him, that he's quick to please the other party before himself. But part of me feels guilty for not giving him the straightforward answer.

He doesn't know that I'm actually a trans guy and that I'm pre-transition. I wear a binder for long periods of time to avoid any suspicion he might have and avoid him seeing me change at all.  Wilbur still thinks I'm a cisgender guy. I have known I'm like this for years now and coming out to people has become easier as time went by. Yet my mind tends to overthink and makes these assumptions about people before even talking to them about my situation.

I know deep down Wilbur wouldn't react my mind thinks he would. I know he wouldn't kick me out or do horrible things but the anxiety I feel in my chest, in my hands and feet is just too unbearable some times. I have lost people in the past for being the way I am so a great fear is Wilbur leaving me all alone and nowhere to go.

I bit my lip as I moved the pillow away from my lap and stood up. A sharp pain shot through my back and my sides as I held the couch arm for support. "Ah!" I winced in pain as I held myself back down to the sofa. "Shoot, I've been wearing this for way too long" I said out loud remembering I was still wearing my binder for way too long.

I took in a sharp breath and stood back up and ignored the strong pain. I quickly walked over to our shared bedroom, holding the walls for support and quickly changed. I slid on a big oversized maroon shirt and put on my pajama pants on.

I looked over at the big mirror and got closer. I moved my face sideways and up and down to observe. "I need to go put on a face mask before I get more pimples" I said to myself moving any loose hairs from my forehead and saw a few small pimples forming already.

I carefully walked into the shared bathroom and looked inside one of the cabinets below the faucet sink. I found my little stash of face masks and got a random one. I applied it and set a timer on my phone on when to take it off.

I went back into the living room and sat down on the sofa with a big sigh. "I don't know how to tell him" I said as I started to bite my fingernails. A big habit I have gotten over the years that still hasn't left me. "Maybe in a note? Nah I'm too nervous to even hold the pencil right" I began thinking out loud as the tv became background noise to me.

Time flew by and my overthinking began to overtake my other thoughts. I felt soft pain throbs as I pulled my hand away from my mouth seeing I was already biting the bottom of my fingers instead of my fingernails. I wiped my hand down my pants and began to chew on my other untouched hand.

"What if he kicks me out...oh god I don't want to go back" I said my voice full of worry now. I left my parents home a year ago due to the abuse I endured throughout my teenage years. They refuse to acknowledge all the pain and suffrage I had to maintain and to add they were extremely narcissistic.