THE NEIGHBOURHOOD ━━━ jjba

bellissima comunque || bruno x rejected!reader || requested!

this was requested by IGGYSOLOSGOKU! from heart to heart, friend; rejection sucks, and it hurts for a while; i know this firsthand. trust me, though, it'll get better! rejection doesn't mean you're bad, unattractive, or unlikable;  you're still beautiful/handsome/attractive, and no one can say otherwise! you got this!! keep going, and you'll find the perfect one for yourself very soon! you deserve the world! 🥰😊

anyways, enjoy the one-shot, and i love every single one of you :D

A silent knock on the door interrupts your crying session, and you mutter "Come in." in your pillow, not bothering to sit up from burying your face in your pillow. The door creaks open, and soft steps approach your bed, a small weight falling on your bed as the steps stop.

"Y/N?" The soft, firm, Italian accented voice calls, and you raise your head up, laying eyes on the source of the voice. Bucciarati sits there on the edge of your bed, a small smile resting on his lips. You sigh, sticking your face back in the pillow. A strong hand rests on your back, and you sniffle into your pillow before sitting up.

"Are you alright?" He asks, his bright blue eyes studying you. Biting your lip, you shake your head, another tear rolling down your cheek that Bucciarati wipes away, frowning. "Care to tell me what's wrong, tesoro?" The black-haired Italian caresses your cheek gently, and you sigh, leaning into his touch.

"I confessed to them today, and they rejected me, saying they liked me as a friend." Your voice falters a bit, and Bucciarati rubs calming circles into your back, sighing. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I know how much you liked them." He says, his voice calm and quiet. You nod sadly, leaning your head on Bucciarati's chest.

"Rejection hurts." You mumble into his chest, and Bucciarati nods, understanding. "That is true." He sighs, and you start to whimper into Bucciarati's chest; he rocks you back and forth for a little bit, cradling you in his strong arms. After what seems like eternities of crying, you finally calm down, sighing as you laugh and pull away from the man.

"I'm sorry if I seem like a total baby right now." You say, and Bucciarati's eyebrows furrow at your words, a frown evident on his face. "Don't apologize, tesoro Y/N. You deserve to be able to let all your feelings out without being called a baby. It's alright." His tone is harsh, but calming, and you know he's not angry at you.

"Sorry." You apologize, and Bucciarati sighs before giving you a small smile, kissing your cheek. "Hey, don't apologize for being yourself." He places a hand on your shoulder reassuringly, and you stare at him, studying his fair skin and sparkly blue eyes.

"I want you to know that rejection doesn't define you. You did nothing wrong; you're not unattractive because of being rejected. I want you to know that. You're beautiful, and you deserve the world. The person who rejected you is missing out on the wonderful gift they could've received. You did nothing wrong. It's not your fault; there's someone out there who will be the perfect person for you. Sei bellissima comunque." Bucciarati tucks a strand of hair out of your face, smiling gently. 

Smiling, you bite your lip as you tackle Bucciarati in a hug. He lets out a small surprised gasp, but laughs and hugs you back, leaning into your warm hug. "Thank you, Bucciarati." You blush, and Bucciarati blushes as well, pushing a strand of hair out of his face before giving you a smile.

"Of course, tesoro. I'm here anytime you need me." The motherly Italian smiles at you.

"Now, I made you your favorite dinner; macaroni and cheese." He smirks proudly, and you smile, taking his hand as he leads you downstairs. "You're the best, Bucciarati." You say, and a dusting of blush spreads across his cheeks, causing him to make a confused sound before clearing his throat. "Oh, no, no! It's my pleasure." He laughs awkwardly, and you smile.

"I mean it. Thank you." You stop him, encasing him in another hug. "You're welcome, tesoro." He smiles gently, stroking your hair.

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