MCYT x Reader One-Shots

💛Tubbo- Even on your bad days

•this one-shot includes mental health things and I guess you could sort of call it angst...? I don't know, it's sad but it gets better. Therefore, if mental health issues are something you prefer not to read I advise you not to read this•

Pronouns used: she/her

Tubbo was upstairs, streaming, while you were downstairs in the kitchen. You'd just finished putting away leftovers, and were about to slide the last container into the fridge when your hand slipped and the whole container of salad spilled all over the floor.

God damnit, fucking klutz.

(Y/N) sighed, kneeling down to clean it. Halfway through, your body began to drain, and soon enough you were stuck on the floor. You sat there, leaning on the cabinet, unable to move. It happened a lot when your depression kicks in and you lose any energy you had left, and you're just left there like a dead body. No matter how much sleep you get you were always tired, feeling like there was nothing worth getting up for.

Your eyes were glazed over at you stared at nothing, the only sound was Tubbo's overly loud laughing coming from his room. Why are you just sitting here? Just move. Just move damn it! What's wrong with you?

(Y/n) eyes pricked with tears, barely having the energy to swallow them down. The salad was still spilled, and with everything in her body, she dragged herself to stand. With her hand on the wall, she guided herself to the stairs, pulling herself up each step. With every breath she took, she began to cry more, the tears running down her cheeks. This is so pathetic.

She needed tubbo. Tubbo had only seen her cry a few times, but not like this. Not because of something like this, usually, it was because of a death or something worth crying about. Still, she needed tubbo.

She raised her hand to knock, before the light of his laugh beamed through the door. He's happy, he's doing what he loves, don't bother him now, he'd be so annoyed you'd interrupted.

Shut up, brain.

Her fist fell to the doorknob, where she opened it without thinking. He swiveled around in his chair to her, his face bright and happy, but as soon as he saw her tear-stained face his expression fell completely.

"Toby, I'm sorry I-"

"I'm sorry chat I have to go, I have to go chat I'm sorry, goodbye," tubbo had turned back to his computer, clicking furiously to end the stream, and as soon as the blinking red light had turned off, he turned to her quickly. His eyes softened and he rolled his chair towards her, his arms open. (Y/n) let out a broken sob, as she fell into him, sitting on his lap as she cried into his shoulder.

You're overreacting, it was a fucking salad, go clean it, you dramatic bitch.

His arms wrapped tightly around her rocking her slightly as he hushed her softly.

"T-Tubbo, I-I-"

"It's okay darling, just breathe okay? You can tell me later," he was whispering like you would in the dark, so you don't wake others. It was nice.

If you wait, the salad will go bad on the floor. It'll be worse to clean up.

His hand that wasn't clutching her closely went to her hair, running his fingers through it as he absentmindedly kissed random spots on her head. He knew you had depression because there came a point in time where you couldn't be with him without him knowing, it wasn't fair that he wouldn't know what he was getting into, but he had never really seen it show. You'd always been tough, pushing through everything and trying your hardest not to let others know you were struggling. Seeing you like this made his heartache.