One-shots and Imagines

Nick Sturniolo - Come to Me

Male! Reader x Brother! Nick Sturniolo

Hey, so, the triplets are 3 years older than u. Ur 17 and they're 20. Anyway, you have major social anxiety and there will be some self harm stuff in this. Also, u live with Matt, Nick, and Chris.

Words: 1050

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You were in your weightlifting class. Your last period of the day. You were forced to be shirtless in that class, which you absolutely hated, all your scars showing. You were benching 300 while your teacher spotted you. Everybody in the school tended to stay away from you cause of your scars. You understood, though. They were hella ugly and just pointed out the obvious: you were a monster, or that's what you and everybody at school told you, at least. You were on your 70th bench and everybody was crowded around. Suddenly, somebody from the crowd shouted, "Ewww! Look at those fuckin nasty scars!" That made you drop the weights on your chest and they rolled down to your stomach. The teacher quickly helped you pick it back up, your arms being weaker. Suddenly, the bell rang. "Everyone dismissed!" The teacher yelled, "No showers! Get out!" After a minute, everybody was out and you were breathing heavily, trying to regain your composure. The teacher, Mr. Cortez, sat beside you and handed you your shirt. "You okay, big guy?" He chuckled. "Yeah, fine," you muttered, pushing your anxiety to the back of your head. You took the shirt and hoodie from him and put them on. You got up. "See you Monday," he called as you picked up your backpack, slung it around your shoulder, and walked out the door.

You stopped by the principal, Mr. Wilde, 's office to pick up your dog. Your dog was a grown Rottweiler named Loki. His collar was green with a key chain of Loki's crown dangling off of it. Loki was an ESA dog, but weightlifting was the only class he wasn't allowed to be in. Loki immediately looked up at me from where he was lying and jumped up, a bark leaving his mouth. "Yспокаиваться," you ordered. There were a few key words that Loki only understood in Russian because you spoke it so much, 'успокаиваться,' meaning 'quiet,' being one of them. Mr. Wilde looked up from his paperwork at you, a lock of his curly, ginger hair falling in front of his glasses. He smiled and pushed his glasses up his nose. "God of mischief was very good," Mr. Wilde smiled. "Thanks for watching him," you smiled, "See you Monday." Mr. Wilde nodded, then you walked out of his office to the bathroom. The halls were empty and the only people there were the kids in detention and the teachers. You locked yourself in a bathroom stall with Loki and sat on the lidded toilet. You huddled your legs to your chest and started sobbing as hard as possible. Your mind judged everything you did that day. Everything. All the wrong steps, wrong movements, slow reflexes, stuttering, nervousness, awkwardness, everything. You started sobbing harder and harder and your breaths were getting more and more uneasy while Loki licked your face. You did this eyeryday. The whole panic-anxiety attack in the bathroom. After 20 minutes, Loki had calmed you down. You got up and got out of the bathroom stall with Loki, who had spent 5 minutes licking your face before you did so, and eyed yourself in the mirror.

"Now muscle up, you shitty bitch," you told yourself harshly before walking out the door and out of the school. You took a deep breath and watched the rain softly pour out of the dark clouds. You always loved the cold weather, especially rain. It matched your mood 24/7. You unbuckled the skateboard on your backpack and stood on it [stood on the skateboard, not the backpack], feet not far apart. You still felt absolutely horrible. You took a deep breath and started skating fast, the rain making you go exceedingly faster, Loki running beside you as you did a few kick flips. 10 minutes later, you were at Matt, Chris, and Nick's house. Yes, you lived there and helped pay the bills and all that shit, but you didn't consider it yours. Your hair was soaking wet and water was dripping from your hair to your eyelashes, which was hella annoying. You kicked one end of your skateboard and caught the other in your hand.

You walked inside. Matt and Chris were sitting on the couch on their phones with AirPods on while Nick was probably in the bathroom. You took your shoes and socks off, not wanting to track water through the house. You ruffled your hair almost dry with your hoodie hood as Loki looked up at you. "Just stay here," you demanded, going to your room. The only reason you do that is when you go to your room and start slitting your wrists, which was something only Nick knew. Good thing he wasn't in the room.

You closed your door, forgetting to lock it, and took your hoodie and shirt off. You frantically dug through your desk, looking for your pocket knife. You finally found it and started cutting your wrists, taking turns with each cut, getting deeper and deeper every time. 5 minutes later, your wrists were bleeding pretty badly but you walked over and started punching your punching bag gloveless while sobbing hard. You hated yourself so fucking much. You felt like stabbing a hole through your heart. 5 minutes later, your knuckles were bleeding from punching too hard but you kept crying and punching as hard as you could. Another 5 minutes passed and your fists were bleeding more and now you had a bloody nose.

10 minutes later, and Nick barged inside frantically, worried like hell about you. You turned around and looked him in his heartbroken eyes. "Y/n..." Nick mumbled. Your tears had somewhat slowed down and your hands were shaking. Nick ran up and hugged you as you cried softly into his shoulder.

After 10 minutes, you stopped crying and looked at him. "Don't ever do that again, got it?" Nick whispered, "I'm here for you whether you like it or not. Come to me when you're hurt or anxious, okay?" You nodded softly. "Let's get you cleaned up."

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Published 9/19/2023

Last edited 9/19/2012