#Tear You Apart

[blyszczopies]

i will be now taking commissions for this kind of animated pagedolls ^___^

Edit: you can now get a pagedoll like this!! heres the commission info post!!

[stuckinjersey]

Why you look so down, girl?

Now you got feelings, right?

Usually you're just so cruel, just so cruel

And though I try try try

To keep my cool every time

It's such a struggle not to lose my head, lose my head

Take me down

A little bit harder now

Love me like you mean it

A little bit harder now

Love me up and down

A little bit harder now

[ymmyglitz]

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Tear You Apart Prequel✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: The prequel is finally here! It came to me out of nowhere today while I was listening to “Wait” by Knuckle Puck on a loop. Now that, my friends, is the power of music. I love this little series so much, and it’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever written! I love getting into the pit of Joel’s grief and showing that underneath all the hardness is just a soft man that wants someone to understand him 🥹 He deserves all the love.

Pairing: Outbreak! Joel x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Word Count: 2.3k

Chapter Summary: This is where it all began, the first time you ever met Joel. He’s mean, rough around the edges, but you see through him. You feel his grief as much as you feel your own.

Chapter Tags: Outbreak au, Joel captures reader, dark! Joel, tender moments, grief, angst, tension, Joel needs a big hug

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

 The sharp rope scratches at your skin as you try to free your bondaged wrists from behind your back. You rock against the wooden chair and grit your teeth together as you bite back the urge to scream. It’d be no use. You’re under his watch, under his control, under his eyes. Those dark black pits that are filled with nothing but regret that devours his eyes, feeds on his soul like a pit of ash and nightmares. A monster that devours anything he can control, anything he can get his calloused fingers on. 

   He wants control, he thinks he has it, but that’s not the case. Not exactly. Because control is a weakness. He’s just a man that’s ruined from a dark world who has nothing left but his own misery to spread to anyone he can claw his jagged nails into. He wants others to feel exactly how he feels. Grief can do that, can change a man into a blood sucking monster. And that’s exactly what he is, the worst kind of them. Vengeful, disconnected, full of regret, used. Just like you are. 

   You watch him stalk around you, circling you like a vulture as he glides his calloused fingers over your skin. You see the way he moves. Slow, concentrated, shoulders hunched as the green flannel clings to his broad chest. Dangerous, dark, unkind. That’s all he shows, all he knows. 

   “Let me go,” you demand as you scrape your skin against the rough bindings and hiss when you feel blood against your wrists. 

   He clicks his tongue and ends right in front of you as he picks up a piece of your hair. “I don’t think so,” he chuckles darkly as he continues circling slowly. “You gonna tell me what you were doin’ outside my house in the middle of the night? Tryin’ to steal somethin’ from me, hmm?” 

   “No, I wasn’t stealing anything…”

   “Liar!” His voice is blaring, echoing through the tiny basement that’s dark and filled with cold cement walls. Only a little light shines in the center of the room. Just enough to see the scowl that’s stretched across his angry face. 

   “I’m not lying, if you’d only just listen to me!” You fight back, your face burning fiery red as you try to pull free of your bindings again, but it’s no use. You’re stuck.  

   “I don’t listen to filthy little liars, sweetheart. Should’ve never come around these parts of the woods. It’ll only get you hurt,” he grins as dark eyes fill the dim room. 

   He slowly slides his fingers down your arm like a sly snake as you feel the bristles of callouses catch against your glistening skin. His skin is warm, burning into yours as you feel the fingerprints imprint into your forearm. He kneels down in between your legs as he rests one hand on your thigh, slowly opening the other as he settles between your legs. And then he looks up at you. That same unattached stare that belongs to the skin of a lone wolf. 

   “So, jus’ what am I gonna do with you, hmm?” he asks as he glides his fingers over your dark denim jeans. “Maybe paint the inside of your thighs white? Maybe sit you on my lap and have a little fun with you? Maybe…”

   You shut him up as you inhale and spit into his face as a glob of your saliva lands in one of his eyes. You see him flare his nostrils as he wipes the spit off with his flannel sleeve and starts chuckling under his breath. “Oh, I like a little fight in a girl. Kinda turns me on more.”

   Before you can react, he shoots up and grabs the back of your hair as he pulls hard and forces your eyes up. You grimace in pain as he pulls tighter. You look anywhere but at his eyes, so you just stare at his worn leather boots. 

   “Look at me,” he demands with gritted teeth as you feel his hot breath blow against the side of your neck. You turn your face and shake your head as you refuse to follow his strict orders. 

   He pulls tighter against your hair as you cringe and feel a cold teardrop lick at the corner of your eye. You can’t give in, can’t give in to him. You hear him growl loudly as he pulls and snarls a harsh order at you, “LOOK AT ME.”

   You feel the tear run down your cheek as you carefully move your eyes to look at him, your eyebrows knit together in frustration as you stare coldly at the man that holds you captive. His nostrils flare, dark eyes burning into yours as you take a real good look at him for the very first time. 

   He’s so run down looking, tired, just like the broken watch that sits clasped around his left wrist. The hard lines paint maps across his wrinkled forehead, an old scar sits burning across the top of his right eye, his salt-and-pepper scruff is rugged looking as some of his thick, tousled strands of hair fall down into his dark eyes. His green flannel is worn, just like his dust covered boots weighing him down to the ground. And his eyes. There’s sadness, remorse, regret lying in those chocolate eyes. Eyes that beg for someone to take him out of his misery. Eyes that plead for goodness but are weighed down by the hardness of the sick world. Eyes that beg someone to feel everything he does. Eyes that scream for help. 

   He keeps a tight hold of you, fingers still locked around your hair as he pins you in place, the weight of his body sinking against yours as you feel the roughness of his beard slide against the side of your cheek. Before you know what you’re doing, you speak. “It’s all about control with you, isn’t it? You want someone to control because you can’t control what’s going on around you in this apocalyptic world. You want someone to blame, someone to use to take your own misery out on. Is that right?” 

   His dark pupils expand as he snarls against your face, his fingers gripping harder as your head snaps up and pain radiates through your skull. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ ‘bout, sweetheart. Better watch your mouth,” he growls as pain shoots down your neck.

   You see the glisten of the broken glass on his watch, wonder why he wears a broken watch in the first place. It hits you like a hurricane crashing against a weak structure, spiraling your insides as if you feel his pain radiate down your body. He lost something dear to him, went through waves of pain you can only imagine. Just like you lost everything in your life. 

   He grabs another handful of hair until you shout into his weathered face. “I know what it’s like to lose something! You’ve lost someone, haven’t you?”

   His snarl lessens as his narrowed eyes relax, his grip on you growing lighter as he breathes in steady breathes. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he bites back as you see pain as clear as day in his distant eyes. The dark flecks floating around like pieces of the past as loss is etched in shades of dark brown throughout his irises.

   “That’s why you do this, isn’t it? You need the control, need to feel something other than the loss you carry. Need someone to fasten yourself to as you let the pain slip from your fingers so you can pour it out to strangers so they can feel that bit of pain you carry every single day.”

   His eyes widen, his breath hitching as the weight of your words crashes over him. A realization taking form as his jaw ticks and his thick fingers run down to the edge of your hair. There’s no more pulling, just the mere brush of his fingertips against your thick hair. 

   “You want to do something to me? Fine, do your worst. But at the end of the day, it’s you that chooses to be a monster. You are the one in control.”

   His eyes grow large as his breathing goes shallow. He drops the grip on your hair and stands abruptly as he paces the floor while raking a large hand through his scruff. He looks conflicted, torn up, ruined as he paces and paces the cement floor. 

   His body stills as he turns and looks at you, his eyes full of regret and sadness as the glint of tears wash over his deep brown eyes. He flexes his hand into a tight fist and clenches his jaw as he huffs out frustrated and grabs a sharp knife from the corner of the room. You freeze up until you realize he’s cutting your bindings free as the tattered rope falls to the floor. 

   “Go on. Get out of here. Leave,” he growls as he nods his head toward the rusty stairs and gives your shoulder a slight push.

   “But I…”

   “LEAVE!”

   You stumble over to the staircase and start to move, but after the first rusty creak of the stair you can’t help but to look back at the man that burns with pain. You see him pacing back and forth slowly, his face is so tormented. You almost feel bad for him. Almost. 

   You cautiously step back off the stairs and slowly walk over to him as you shakily reach out a hand. You see his tense shoulders, his lowered head as he holds his hands over his face. That’s when you feel it. The sheer grief that plagues him night after night. You feel it burning deep in your soul as you stare at his weathered features. He’s so lost, scared. 

   You ever so slowly lift a hand and place it softly over the back of his shoulder, holding your breath as you’re sure he’ll knock you down to the floor. He turns sharply your way, and that’s when you see the glisten of tears in his eyes, a shade of dark blue that covers his entire being. Wrecked. He’s so wrecked. 

   “I see you. You’re not as alone as you think you are,” you whisper as you let your hand linger timidly on his broad shoulder for just a few more seconds. He stares at it, conflicted features running over his worn face and then slowly turns toward you, eyes the color of chestnut brown. He flinches when you finally drop your hand to your side and step back out of his reach. 

   His lip quivers, jaw clenching as tight as a fist as he stares at you with big chocolate eyes that glisten with held back tears. You know this pain, the unbearable agony of losing someone so close as they slip through your fingers and never return to the light of day. You know he’s hurting. You know.

   You think of running your fingers over his patchy scruff but quickly talk yourself out of it, afraid he might snap at you again. One more look at dark eyes and you’re backing up, turning back to the staircase as you start to tread up heavy steps. 

   You hear him take a step toward you, hear his leather boots scuff against the hard ground as you look down and see the man with burning eyes. He looks like he wants to say something, looks like he might ask you to stay, but he stays silent. So you go, flee up the stairs, back to a semblance of peace.

   Before you turn the old brass doorknob, you look back and find him looking in awe at you, his breathing ragged and his mouth parted open with bloodshot eyes. Eyes that beg you to stay. 

   “You know, you’re not really the monster you think you are.” His jaw goes slack, his arms heavy at his sides as he stares wide-eyed at you. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch, he just stares. Weepy eyes that cry out for just one soul to listen. You hear him though. You hear him.

   You grip your raw, torn up wrists and feel the pain simmer down to your bones. This is the pain he must feel, too. The pain you might just understand. Maybe that’s why you almost stay, almost turn and reach for him again like you could take his pain away. But you don’t. At least not this time.

   Before you overstay your welcome, you turn the cold doorknob and push past the opening as you flee the house that holds pain and regret. You slip your way outside and disappear into the thick trees, leaving just enough traces of footsteps for him to find you again. 

   This wasn’t the end. No. This was the very beginning, a beautiful cycle that’d keep spinning, a whirlwind of you and Joel. The moment everything changed. He claimed you from the beginning, the very minute he let you out of those ropes. It wasn’t over. 

   He’d find you again, hunt you down till he got his hands on you again. A little lamb that would feed the hungry wolf. A lone wolf that needed to feel again. And you were it. The undoing to his starving form. For he was just a man who longed to rid himself of all the suffering and pain he experienced day after day. You were exactly what he needed. It was you. So he’d follow you through the trees, track you down till he could taste nothing but you. You were the little lamb he desired, craved. And god, did he need you. He needed you…

Tagging some of you that read part 1 🩷 @janaispunk @amyispxnk @mountainsandmayhem @littlevenicebitch69 @lotusbxtch @keylimebeag @untamedheart81 @bbyanarchist @bishtrouille @vividispunk @vivian-pascal @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs @pedrostories @docharleythegeekqueen @rav3n-pascal22 @my-favorite-reading @silk-spun @fanfictilltheend @tuquoquebrute @beardedjoel @msjarvis @syd-djarin

If you liked this, consider reblogging or sending me an ask 💕

[justastupidlittlelesbian]

I'm listening to this soapshipping playlist right now and god I just want to kiss the creator, tear you apart by she wants revenge is their fucking song

[kafkaesqueer]

Tear You Apart by She Wants Revenge// Vampire by Edvard Munch

[lavalierre]

“Tear You Apart” - She wants Revenge

Labru song of. the. year.

[1ivinqdeadqir1]

Tear You Apart

Chapter 1: Paranoid

Daryl Dixon x Reader

A/N: soooo as you can probably tell I’ve been watching the walking dead… and I’m almost finished now and I’ve fallen madly in love with Norman. This fic is gonna be a series and slow burn romance and Daryl isn’t in this chapter but will be in the next !!

Era: Prison Era onwards (Pre-Woodbury Fall)

Warnings: allusion to death of loved ones, murder, typical TWD stuff

Word Count: 5k

Masterlist: here

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You had taken a large step over a display case of alcohol- the bottles now smashed, littering the ground with glass shards. It looked as though someone had thrown it down in a hurry, like they were looking for something hidden behind. Maybe they’d been running from the dead and took the case down with them on the way. You tried not to focus on the mess, and instead, your eyes flickered around the room, which felt much smaller because of the clutter and boarded-up windows. Eventually, your eyes landed on a medicine cabinet by the cash register.

A quick, sharp pain charred into your skin with each breath, so you took them slowly, and they shook against your lips as you inspected the shelves. There were a few brightly coloured protein bars in the road trip aisle so you quickly shoved them into your pockets. Your slouchy cargo pants were already packed full of your belongings- a box of ammo for your gun, your flip-knife and some bandages… a notebook and pen- and even a watch you managed to keep working that told you the date and time. It had been a gift before everything happened, and something your friend had given you on your birthday.

When you reached the cabinet, you shuffled around the boxes in search of some over-the-counter antibiotics. There were a few boxes of menstruation relief medication, so you shoved those into your pockets before throwing your backpack over your shoulder and onto the ground alongside the metal bow you'd been lugging with your sheath and arrows.

At the beginning, when the virus started spreading, the first thing you did was go and pick up as many survivalist books as you could find. You figured not a lot of people would think of that when panic buying. In the books you learned how to make toothpaste, soap and even string your own arrows. The few people you’d grouped with didn’t think it was necessary, but you deemed it more than so and found yourself using the knowledge you’d gained studying those books like gospel during your time spent alone- away from any kind of civilization.

Your free arm swept the boxes from the shelf into your napsack. Now hunched over at this level, you noticed some tubes of antiseptic cream and chucked them in alongside the boxes of pain medication. You struggled to fit it all in alongside your homemade toiletries- but eventually managed and went back to looking at the assortments the store still had.

Then, there was a crunch from the shattered glass and you raised your bow, arrow already equipped- it was second nature at this point yet still the sudden movement had your teeth gritting together so hard you thought you might break a filling.

“One wrong move and I’ll cut you in half”

Your eyes were met with those of a woman and man. She looked to be a few years older whereas he was maybe a year or two younger. Her eyes were dark and focused, her locks fell past her rich mahogany shoulders and down her back. The man looked at you with bright, wide brown eyes. His hair was a short, black mess on his head. He was wearing a navy button shirt rolled up to his elbows. And you noticed he had reached for the gun on his hip but hesitated.

“We aren’t gonna hurt you.”

The man spoke first, holding up his hands as you kept your arrow pointed in their general direction- eyes flickering to the woman beside him. Her cold stare seemed to soften, having now taken you in properly. Your shoulder was wrapped in dirt-covered bandages that needed changing to avoid a gnarly infection, and your skin caked in filth and dried blood. Your clothes were just as bad, the bottoms of your pants were saturated with dirty water and your leather boots scuffed and plastered with dried mud.

“My name’s Glenn Rhee… This is Michonne,” he slowly referred to the woman holding the katana with his right hand. She shuffled on her feet as you swallowed and pursed your lips together- trying to ignore the stabbing sensation in your side. You glared them both down, fighting back tears that threatened to spill from your eyes as they looked at you like you were a small child who needed saving. The man - Glenn - spoke again.

“Are you out here all by yourself?”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, your knuckles white- the metal frame leaving a curved indent in your palm.

“As Glenn said, we aren't going to hurt you.” the woman - Michonne - added.

“He won’t, but doesn't…” you paused, feeling the sharp pain in your ribs again. “How can I be sure you won’t skewer me with that Katana?”

Glenn looked over with pleading eyes, his lips sewn shut in a straight line. As though communicating telepathically, she sheathed her weapon - yet still rested her hand on the tip of the handle. You couldn’t blame her for that.

“So,” she began again, “are you alone?”

You nodded.

It was then Glenn’s turn to speak. “You’ve been alone this entire time?- I mean, you’re far from home. It doesn’t sound like you’re from Georgia, let alone the states.”

You slowly lowered the bow yet kept the end of the arrow between your fingers and the handle- pointing it at the ground with less force as you had been a moment prior. “I was with a group, we were ambushed. There weren’t many of us; we couldn’t hold them off.”

You watched as Glenn regarded you with an empathy that many people seemed to resonate with nowadays. He didn't press any further about the group; from the look in your eyes, he could sense the wound was still fresh.

“So, you moved to the States before everything?” Michonne was the next to ask; from the looks of it, she seemed to have calmed down compared to how she had been.

“Yeah, I was a tattoo artist.”

She nodded and looked to Glenn, who looked back with the same blank expression you couldn’t read.

“You have a name?” Glenn said, his hands now planted on his hips. You were suddenly aware of how filthy you looked compared to the pair. They must have come from somewhere with running water.

“y/n, y/n l/n”

“y/n, how many walkers have you killed?”

Puzzled, you raised a brow weakly, gripping the handle as though it had become fused to your flesh and bone. “I don’t… never thought to count, if I were to guess… about… upwards of 80.”

“How many people have you killed?” he asked that question with just as much conviction as the last. Michonne's gloved hands had now dropped to her sides as she peered down at your pile of belongings and the stray medicine boxes scattered at your feet.

“I… right now? two”

“Why?”

Biting your lip, you thought back to your friend. “The first tried to kill me, and the second killed my best friend, One I had known before this and after.” You fought back tears again, stroking your thumb across the metal frame. You had already cried so much - from the pain of your injuries and losing him - that there were now narrow streams of clean skin that went from your waterline to the curve of your chin. The rivers that had run down your cheeks starkly contrasted the mask of dirt, blood and sweat painted on your face.

“I’m sorry”, Michonne said first, “I can’t imagine what you’ve had to go through.”

“Yeah,” you bit back a laugh, throat hoarse, “you really can’t.”

Glenn stepped forward, and you stepped back, which made you wince and hiss at the stabbing pain in your side. “ We come from a group. We’re all survivors- like you- but we managed to find a place where we can have a chance.”

As you listened to the man, you wondered whether this was too good to be true. You had been all alone, both of you. Hunting and gathering, living in dirt and squalor for the better part of 9 months and here was your chance to start afresh with new people. It may have been the hunger, exhaustion, or innate need to survive that forced you to go along with them.

“Wait, there’s something we have to do first before we go.”

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

“Finn? It’s safe to come out now, kid”

You called out into a small wooden shed adjacent to a house which looked to have been burned down. Michonne and Glenn stood nearby with their weapons at hand, you could’ve scoffed as you watched them skittishly take in the view.

“We’ve been here for a few weeks, it was like that when we got here.” you kicked a twig by your feet, ignoring the throbbing in your side when a small boy walked out of the shadows with a knife in his grip. He was no less than 6, and his hair was a mess on his head. His skin was smudged with dirt- less than your own but it still looked as though he had been through a lot. Michonne forced a smile and took her hand off her blade. Glenn placed his gun back into his pack.

“Did you get the things?” he asked, pushing the knife back into his pocket. He had his own bag, and it was almost as big as him. Michonne peeked into your makeshift home, the floor was covered with a blanket and there were a few sacks of meat and cans laid out on the workbench. Beneath the bench, there was a sleeping bag atop a roll-out mattress. Then, on the blanket, adjacent to the bench, a sleeping bag without the extra support.

“I got some stuff, not really anything special but…” you ruffled his hair, picking out a stray piece of fluff that’d managed to work its way onto his strands. It’d gotten quite long, and it now brushed his collarbones. Whenever you offered to give it a trim, he refused and said he’d wait until everything went back to normal.

“Who are you?” Finn looked up at Glenn and Michonne, his eyebrows furrowed inwards- his attempt at a scowl.

“I’m Glenn- Is he your-?”

“Nephew” you cut in before asking the young boy to help you pack up your belongings with a smile. He nodded and got to it, only asking you questions about where you were going once you’d both left the pair standing outside.

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

It took the four of you two and a half hours to get back to the prison. With having to carry your heavy belongings, Glenn suggested you all take regular breaks- he had noticed your struggle walking for long distances at a time with your injury. It was a journey you wished you wouldn’t have to make again in a similar shape. Finn, on the other hand, was fine and took the walk in his stride. He made idle talk with Glenn and Michonne- asking if there were other kids like him there. There were a few, according to Michonne, and he seemed more than excited to get back once having learned that.

A small boy, around 13 or 14, greeted the three of you at the gate. He was wearing a cowboy hat and a blue flannel shirt that looked as though it were a few sizes too big for him. Finn tried to hold back his nerves, and he opted instead to squeeze your hand. You squeezed his back twice, and looked down at him- smiling. The boy behind the fence opened it and greeted Glenn and Michonne, although he seemed to be struggling to comprehend what you and Finn were doing there.

“Hey Carl, where’s your dad?”

The boy - Carl - pointed toward the prison, a concrete slab of a building that seemed more cold than warm. You almost shuddered at the thought of the winters here, and Michonne seemed to sense your apprehension.

“It’s better inside, it doesn’t look like much, but it’s home for now.”

You nodded, having become quiet on the journey. She deduced that you’d only speak once you had been spoken to. As you started walking toward your new home, a slender brunette with short hair and a wide smile ran to you- to Glenn. She enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug, and when he pulled back, she pressed her lips to his quickly. It was strange how people managed to find love in such desolate times. You couldn’t imagine falling in love before, but now, your fear of impending loneliness and abandonment settled to the back of your mind. Being lonely didn’t seem as bad as losing everyone you loved or got close to. Finn was the only exception these days, you loved that kid like he was your own. He was all you had left- after all.

“Who’s this?”

You snapped up from your thoughts and locked eyes with her. She was still smiling, though you chalked that up to the moment she had just shared with Glenn- her husband - by the looks of the ring on her finger.

“‘Maggie, this is y/n and Finn. We found them out alone in the woods… y/n’s injured, but she’s a tough one, I think, a hunter as well.” Glenn held up the knapsacks you’d crammed in the shed. Finn held your hand a bit tighter

Michonne nodded, “Mmhm, we’re gonna go see if your dad would check her up… then talk to Rick about what to do; he’ll probably wanna talk to her.”

You didn’t mind that they talked about you as though you weren’t there- or that you couldn’t hear every word they were saying - in the shape you were in, you couldn’t engage in a full-blown conversation. The only thing on your mind was the ache in your body and the grinding of your joints upon one another from all the walking you’d been doing.

“Ah, that’s great, well… it’s nice to meet you, y/n. I hope we get to know each other better.. you too, little guy, I love your shirt”

Finn’s cheeks flushed red at the compliment, and he thanked her politely- just as his mother had taught him to. You managed to smile small at how kind she was despite your and Finn’s appearances. Caked in blood and gore, you were still being treated like humans and not a pair of animals being taken to the slaughter.

“Me too.”

Maggie grinned before pecking Glenn on the cheek, exchanging a few fleeting words, and smiling at Michonne. Then, she was off in suit of the guard tower you’d passed on the way up.

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

The cellblock was cold, as you’d expected, but it was refreshing in a way that the Georgian summer couldn’t provide on days like this. You’d run into only one other person on the way in, Beth, a young lady who was Maggie’s little sister. She seemed sweet enough, her eyes were kind, and her smile was bright with that whimsical nature teenagers seemed to have at that age- full of hope and wonder for what could come next. Finn seemed to like her too, and he made a passing comment that she reminded him of his primary school teacher.

As the three of you trailed further, you heard a baby crying and shushing from a man with the beginnings of a thick beard growing upon his jaw. A baby, you hadn’t seen a baby since before everything, and even then, it had been almost 7 years since your sister had given birth to Finn. You’d wanted children at one point- when you had a job and a home- a boyfriend and even a pet dog. Thankfully for your sanity, the boyfriend had been gone long before the outbreak, and unfortunately so was the dog.

Ozzy was an old, gentle rescue, one you remember fondly for the years you had spent together. That dog had been your lifeline for a while, your main reason for getting up in the morning for work. Sometimes, when you got anxious, you would trace your fingers across your arm- where a tattoo of his name lay in cursive amongst some of your others. Your fingers brushed across the skin now, drawing his name with the pads of your fingers as you and Finn approached the man and his child.

“Rick, can I talk to you real quick?”

Rick turned to Glenn, still holding the baby. You twitched a little in your spot and shuffled your feet, trying to avoid his cold, blank stare. His brow was furrowed with lines that held years of pain and torment. You swallowed thickly as the slate blue of his eyes glowed in the stream of light that peeked through the high windows of the prison, between the bars and onto the floor.

“Sure. Beth, can you take Judith?”

The young lady, Beth, whom you’d met on the way in, nodded with a smile and took the infant from Rick’s arms. The baby - Judith - looked only a few months old. Maybe a few weeks, if you were to guess. Rick walked over to you, Finn and Glenn. Michonne had left on the way up, saying she wanted to clean her blade. After a long morning of slicing through rivers of the undead, it was crusted with dried blood.

“Glenn, what the hell is this?” The older man regarded you with a blank stare. His accent was thick- thicker than Maggies - and his voice rough against his tongue. He then looked down at Finn- his brows raising and eyes widening. You pushed your nephew further behind you, lips tight together as Rick glanced you over again. Finn was still holding onto your hand.

“Y/N and her nephew, Finn. They've been on their own for a while, camping out in the woods a few hours away.” Glenn motioned to you and Finn as he introduced you to Rick. Mouth still shut, you swallowed back the fear and it sank to the pit of your stomach.

“She’s got meat- venison, with her- she’s a hunter, look I-“ Glenn looked at you quickly, “can you step out for a second, please?”

Once a decent space had been made between you, Finn and the two men, you stared blankly at your feet. You could only hear the whispers that reminded you of hissing and the occasional coddling from Beth in the other room. A sick feeling began to creep up inside of your gut, and you instinctively wrapped an arm around yourself to try and keep the bile from rising up your throat. “Do you think they're gonna kick us out?” Finn asked, his voice a slight hum over the buzzing thoughts in your head. “I.. I don't know, kid.”

A few minutes passed, and you were taken out of your head by the sound of Rick and Glenn approaching you both where you stood.

“Alright,” Rick placed his hands on his hips, almost tucking them into his belt. They looked like they had been lightly dusted with a thin layer of dirt and grime.

“You can both stay for now. We’ll see how it goes, and in a week or two, come back and decide if you can stay permanently or not”

You managed a thank you and a small smile, adjusting your metal recurve bow slung over your back. Rick hesitated momentarily, clearing his throat and shuffling where he stood. “One thing, for uh, the first week, we’re gonna keepa’ holda’ your weapons. We have kids here and-“

“You don’t trust me yet,” you sighed and unsheathed your bow and quiver- handing them over alongside your drop-point black hunting knife and glock 22. You also handed over the 6 full boxes of ammo you had scavenged from a camp that had been overrun by walkers. “Don’t worry, non-taken. I get it. I wouldn’t want a stranger around Finn with guns and knives either.” you nodded at Finn, who then pulled out a large hunting knife from the loop on his pants. Sometimes people you crossed paths with would look at you as though you were a bad parental figure for allowing him to carry that, however, you thought it was more than necessary to teach him while his mind was still malleable. Just in case anything happened to you.

He huffed “Well, I guess we can agree on that. How old are you, Finn?”

“I’m 7 soon, Sir”

Rick almost laughed, and you smiled weakly at the small boy as he insisted on being formal- as though that'd be what made their minds up as to whether you could stay.

“Rick’s just fine, Finn”

The boy nodded and handed Grimes the machete, the blade pointing down to the ground just as you had told him.

“You moved here before, then?” He added, quickly changing the subject. You nodded twice. Having explained this already numerous times, you weren’t that pissed about Rick asking. It was all procedural- he was the leader. It only made sense that he knew where you came from.

“I did before the apocalypse, I was a-.” you took in a sharp breath and pressed your hand further against your hip to try and dull the pain. “I was a tattoo artist and worked in a studio- learned how to shoot a bow in summer camp, kept up with it… a friend of mine before and after, he taught me all the survival stuff, he was ex-military so…”

Like Michonne and Glenn, Rick seemed to relax as you told him part of your story. He - more than anyone - understood that everyone had their demons, and that there were probably things you didn’t want to tell him.

“Well, thank you for telling me. Glenn, take her to Hershel, She can stay in the medical cell until we know she’s not sick.”

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Hershel was a kind man. Kind, old and wise. The way he treated you so carefully and gently- even excusing himself whenever he added pressure to your ribs- It almost brought tears to your eyes. He had told you (and Finn, since he’d refused to leave the medical cell whilst you were being treated) how he had Irish and English ancestry and that his father and grandfather before him took pride in where they’d come from. You chatted back and forth for what felt like hours, and before you knew it, you were all bandaged up. He’d suggested bed rest for your broken ribs, and with the gash on your shoulder, he advised being careful when showering and coming back to see him in a day or so to have it changed or if you accidentally got it wet.

“Now, if I were you, young lady, I’d go wash up and get some rest; you’re gonna need it for your injuries…” you slowly swung your legs over the side of the bed, gritting your teeth together so hard it felt as though you were going to crack a filling. “And you, Young man, you take care of your auntie okay? Make sure she doesn’t get herself in any sorta trouble” Finn nodded, adding a ‘yes sir’ as Hershel reached out to ruffle his head. You pinched the bridge of your nose with your finger and thumb. “But i- Rick said-”

“Never mind what Rick said. I’ll let him know you’re healing up, and I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Before you could get up to leave, a woman with short grey hair knocked on the gate- in her arms, she had what looked to be two towels, a pair of shorts and a clean black vest along with some clothes that’d probably be a bit big for Finn, ones he’d grow into. As she entered, Hershel excused himself, letting the woman know where he’d be if she needed him. She then turned her attention back to you and Finn, a smile spread across her face as she moved to place the clothes and towels on the bed beside you.

“Hi, heard you guys were gonna be staying for a while, thought you'd need some fresh clothes and a towel each for the shower”

You nodded in response, and she sheepishly chewed the inside of her cheek. “I’m Carol, by the way”

“y/n”

“y/n,” The lady - Carol - repeated, as though trialling the name on her tongue to see if it fit. “And what’s your name, hm?” She crouched down to Finns level, and you edged forward on the seat, looking around the room for any sort of weapon in case she tried anything.

“My name’s Finn, Finn L/N”

“It’s nice to meet you Finn, I love your hair, it's very long” She held out her hand, and he took it after examining her for a few seconds. “Nice to meet you too Carol” she smiled at him again and stood to her full height

“Well, y/n, are you alright with walking? I'll show you where the showers are, in the meantime I’ll get those clothes cleaned up for you”

A sad smile tugged at the corner of your lips as she spoke, your eyes glassy.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing I just… everyone here has been so kind to me’

Carol sighed, helping you to your feet, an arm wrapped carefully around your shoulder.

“Well, we’ve all been in your position, honey.”

You can only nod, lips pulled taut in a straight line as you concentrate on not toppling over Finn or ripping the bandages when stepping out into the hall.

As you turned to look back at the lady, you notice her eyes trailing across your skin.

“I like your tattoos, do them yourself?”

“Some, though it’s pretty hard to do it yourself… most of them are my own designs but done by other people, mainly those I worked with…” having taken a towel and a pile of clean clothes from Carol, Finn asked her where the showers were.

“Just down the hall to the left and then straight on, there should be some shampoo and soap already…”

“Thanks again, c’mon Finn, I'd race you, but I don't think I'm in any shape for running.”

The small boy laughed and reached up to hold your hand, you took it in your own, the towel and clothes tucked under your free arm as you walked with him slowly toward the showers.

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Once you and Finn had finished cleaning up and gotten changed into the fresh clothes Carol had pulled out for you, you paced around the stairs of the cell block and eventually heard someone coming down behind you. It was Carol again, and she seemed a little bit faster with her steps as she locked eyes with you. Finn was busy twiddling his thumbs and trying to make his clothes look more normal by rolling up his sleeves.

“Hey! It's nice seeing you both not covered in all that muck, hand those here honey I’ll get them cleaned for you,” you handed her your, and Finn's clothes and brushed the dried blood and dirt from your palms. You didn’t realize they were that gross. “You guys have met everyone, right?”

You shake your head, “ I don’t know, we met Maggie and Beth briefly, Rick of course… Michonne and Glenn found us, Hershel… the kid- Carl” as you listed off the names (which took you a few seconds to remember) you began to wonder whether you had met everyone. That was a lot of people.

“Oh, well, Daryl is out hunting and Judith can't exactly talk yet…” she picked at the hem of your old shirt before eventually placing them at the bottom of the stairs. “you’ll probably see Axel around as well- he’s the skinny guy with the mustache and light hair, he was apart of a group that was here when we arrived.”

“A prisoner?”

“I guess you could call them that, though I suppose we’re all sort of prisoners now if you think about it”

You nod, huffing as you draw your attention back to the hunter she had mentioned and try not to focus on the fact there were felons (convicted of GOD knows what) living amongst the kind people you had met. It was weird how she talked almost like Axel was a friend and not someone to be suspicious of. Hell, even if they were nice, you couldn’t help but be a little skeptical when showering or when taking off your shirt in front of their doctor.

“I don’t like feeling trapped… like a prisoner”

Carol nodded, smiling at you still. She had a nice smile, a lot of the people here did, although you couldn’t shake the feeling that beneath hers there was a lot of pain. You could see it in her eyes that she was tired.

“That’s great, we kinda need more hunters… food running out and everything, Rick said you’d brought some stuff in with you?”

You nod and call Finn to follow Carol as she makes her way up the stairs and takes you both down the aisle toward a cell on the furthest side, adjacent to the wall.

“Luckily for you, Daryl isn’t all that talkative either” she shrugged, laughing to herself. Part of you wondered whether she was seeing this Daryl person. “But he has a big heart and would die for this group- listen, I don’t know you much yet but I kinda have a feeling you’ll fit in just fine, y/n- and you too, Finn. It’s nice having new faces around, especially when they’re as adorable as yours, little guy”

Carol pinched Finn’s cheek with her forefinger and thumb, to which Finn groaned and blushed pink like he had when Maggie complimented his shirt earlier. You smiled down at him and ruffled his hair, when you said he could pick which bed he wanted, he was off and sat down on one and then the other. Trying to gauge which one was most comfortable. To your surprise, your belongings (minus weapons and food) were already shoved underneath the metal bed frames.

“Thanks again, Carol. For this.”

“Like I said,” she lay a hand on your arm gently, “we’ve all been there.”

[embermint000x]

The Paris Apartment by Lucy Foley

I knew that he felt the same way: that was the important thing. I just wanted to be a part of it, this world, his world.

[dahliacirice]

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

[ultimateluckystudent-writes]

Tear You Apart (Piece You Together)

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Your obsession with Komaeda Nagito is getting out of hand. The other inhabitants of Jabberwock Island are beginning to notice, you're stealing more and more obvious things, and one lie just leads to another. When the subject of your affection comes to visit your cottage while you're… busy, you struggle to keep yourself in check and hide the extremely incriminating evidence- a pair of his boxers.

Word Count: 8.5

SEE FULL TAGS AND READ ON AO3

It wasn’t like you were trying to eavesdrop on Nagito and Kazuichi’s conversation.

“So like, er… are you hittin’ that?”

Really, you would have eavesdropped on any conversation Nagito was having.

“What?”

But of course, this was certainly of interest to you.

“Ugh, come on man, you can admit it to me. Are you like, getting some?”

“...I thought I knew what that meant, but now I’m not so sure.”

“Whatever! We all see you two hanging out like, all the time. Everybody else can barely even talk to you guys.” Kazuichi’s huff made your shoulders slump with relief. ‘Good, they are talking about me. I was almost worried for a second.’ Kazuichi’s voice got quieter, and you had to take a careful step further around the corner of the dining room to keep an ear out, shifting the stack of plates in your hands so they wouldn’t clatter together as you leaned forward. Despite his hushed tone, you could still detect a distinct note of giddiness. “So like… where have you guys done it?”

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” Nagito laughed. You could picture the look on his face clearly. You almost wanted to take a peek. The furrowed eyebrows and smile that placated any denial he needed to give. “(L/N)-san and I aren’t together in any sense.” ‘I wish that he’d let someone get the wrong idea even once! He denies it every single time… Is it because it’s me? Do I disgust him? Have I not noticed that I’ve been bothering him this whole time? Could he-’ “I couldn’t take advantage of her kindness anymore. I hope the rest of you don’t actually have that idea, I wouldn’t want to sully her reputation anymore.” ‘Oh. That’s all. What a sweetheart, even now he’s thinking about me. But… that’s kind of a shame. I wish he’d let himself have something one of these days.’ 

“Just shut up already! If you don’t wanna admit it that’s fine.” Kazuichi sounded distinctly like it wasn’t fun. “But dude, you know what they say. Don’t stick your dick in crazy.”

“...I’m sorry?”

“She just kind of seems like a psycho bi-”

You took one of the plates and dropped it on the floor. It shattered on the floor and startled the other two. You busied yourself trying to recover the pieces and look distressed. When the boys approached from around the corner, you let out a squeak. Nagito looked a bit guilty, but Kazuichi looked like he was going to die. Nagito moved quickly to your side, extending his hands to take the plates from you. You handed them over. While he was busy trying to balance the new weight, you made sure to send a glare over at Kazuichi, who paled. 

“I’m, um, gonna go get a dustpan.” You said to Nagito quietly when he had a handle on them. “I was just gonna return those to the dining room… sorry…” You quickly scurried off, heading to the kitchen where the broom was stored. When you returned, they were back in conversation, though Nagito looked notably less pleased. He had set the plates down by now. You suppressed a grin as you came back to sweep up the glass quickly, making sure to keep your head down.

“You don’t need to worry about it,” Nagito said, “I can take it from here-”

“No, no, it’s- it’s alright.” You didn’t meet his eyes. “I’ll just do it really quickly and, um, let you guys continue on with your conversation.” You felt the temperature on the tropical island drop about five degrees.

“...(L/N)-san-”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything bad!” Kazuichi insisted. “I just- uh- I was just telling Komaeda here that, er- well, that the others are- that I-”

“It’s alright!” You finished up as quickly as you could. “Alright, just gonna… go… toss these-” You felt Nagito’s eyes on you as you left. ‘Good.’ You hummed a tune as you left, but it quickly died in your throat as you tossed the shards into a bin. ‘Who the fuck does Soda think he is? ‘Psycho bitch’? I can’t believe he’s going around saying that shit to Nagito. I wonder if the others are talking about me like that… he didn’t seem too surprised by the conversation… does he know?’ 

You realized you were gripping the flimsy, plastic handle of the dustpan so hard it was starting to bend. You put it back in its place with a huge sigh. ‘Great. And now I need to go let off some steam. We’re probably almost done collecting and cleaning for the day anyway, by the way Nagito and Soda weren’t doing anything. What an idiot, distracting Nagito like that-’ You walked the short distance back to your cabin quickly. 

You didn’t waste time when you got there. Your pulse was already starting to quicken just thinking about what awaited you in your room. You locked the door behind you. Nobody ever came in anyways, of course, but it was a force of habit by this point. You opened the bottom drawer of your bedside drawer, almost full now like your perfect treasure chest.

It was littered with different things you’d taken from or had been gifted by Nagito. His hair ties, gifts from the Monomono machine, trip tickets you’d collected over the weeks. It all sat in the drawer. At the top, however, was your crown jewel, your most treasured possession. You’d only acquired it yesterday, but there was no doubt it was your favorite of all.

You bit your grinning lip and pulled out Nagito’s grey and white checkered boxers. You let out a giggle as you settled into bed. The blinds were always drawn. Nobody would come get you until dinner in a couple of hours. You had all the time you needed with your indulgence. You got comfortable within your pillows and spread your legs. Your hand drifted down to your panties, stroking the length of your panties, teasing yourself as you finally pulled his underwear to your face and inhaled deeply. 

You’d been planning your acquisition of this garment for days. Finally, after collecting at the beach, Nagito had gone to take a shower before dinner. When he came to the table, hair still a bit damp, you knew what to do. You ‘accidentally’ tipped a glass of water all over his lap, drenching his pants just enough for him to go need to go change. Once he came back, you traded out with him. You’d opened his door right up- he never bothered locking it, you knew that well- and pulled the underwear right off of the top of his laundry basket, still wet.

You had gotten lucky. His underwear was still sweet with the scent of his citrusy soap, but he’d been wearing them just long enough that his musk clung to the fabric. You moaned into the cloth. Heat flared at once deep in your stomach. ‘This is what he smells like. Oh God, he smells so fucking good.’ You buried your face within the fabric as you hurriedly tossed your panties somewhere off to the side. Your fingers slid down to circle your clit, not waiting long at all before setting a quick, furious motion. You couldn’t waste any more time. You didn’t want to. You knew it wouldn’t be long before you were soaking wet anyways.

Your mind wandered immediately to what you wished you had done yesterday. You wanted to follow him back to his cabin, to watch him strip as you had done before. To watch him tug off his clothes, to see the annoyed expression on his face you saw so rarely, the one you found immensely sexy, the one that made you want to knock on his door and beg him to face-fuck you. You pictured your mouth taking his cock as deep as it could go, your nose pressed against his skin, his hand in your hair pulling you as far as you could go. ‘Would it be like this?’ It felt almost overwhelming already. You dipped your fingers a bit into your entrance, slicking them up before continuing to rub at your clit. The electric jolts of pleasure made your breathing erratic. You almost wanted to slow down, to keep your gasping to a minimum, so you wouldn’t waste any breath through your mouth.

“Nagito…” You mumbled into the fabric. You had enough practice to keep it down. “Nagito, Nagito, Nagito,” You chanted, again and again. You had figured you could keep your obsession at bay with each item you collected, but instead, it only grew by the day. It didn’t help that Kazuichi had been right- you sunk your claws into any time Nagito had. You’d hoped, at first, that some side of him you wouldn’t like would reveal itself. The more time you spent with him, however, the more you liked him- including the bits that the others on the island, the others that had once been in his lonely life, had been uncomfortable with. Your hole was beginning to ache with a need to be filled. You slipped your fingers inside yourself, muffling your whimpers with his underwear.

You pictured his own bony hands filling you on the same stupid beanbags in the library where you’d gotten him to compare hands with you. His cold fingers extended way past where yours went. It had taken all of your willpower not to lace yours within his, not to beg to warm his up, not to press them against your chest and ask him to feel how hard your heart was beating-

There was a knock at the cabin door.

You groaned again, though now out of frustration. You didn’t even bother moving from the bed.

“Who is it?” You called out.

“Um, it’s Komaeda, I just-” He didn’t have time to finish before you were a flurry of clothes and excitement unlocking your door.

“Komaeda-kun,” You smiled, opening up to see him. He seemed surprised. You didn’t know why. “What’s up?”

“Oh. Hello.” He blinked blankly. He shook his head and recovered. “I just… I wanted to apologize for what you heard earlier…” He scrutinized your face. You felt self-concious all at once. ‘Do I have something on me? Should I be wearing more makeup?’ “...are you alright?”

“What?”

“You’re flushed.” He said. “You look rather warm. I haven’t really seen you all day, are you coming down with a fever?”

“Will you check?” You blurted, before you could stop yourself. Luckily, he didn’t seem to think much of it. He pressed the back of his hand to your forehead. His hand was a cool relief against your heated skin. You leaned into his touch. His hand moved from your forehead to your cheek, your neck-

“You feel warm.” He frowned. “Were you exercising by any chance?” His eyes glanced back around your room. You had gotten so caught up in his touch and worry you’d forgotten about the sight you’d left the place. It was too late by the time you watched his eyes do a double take on something. Fear clenched your gut all at once, sucking any happiness out immediately. 

“I can explain!” You half-shouted, head whipping around. Though it was mostly obscured in a mess of blankets and pillows, you could see the pair of boxers peeking out from underneath it all. “I-”

“I don’t think you need to explain.” He laughed. Your head whipped just as fast back around, more than confused. “The state of your room is none of my business.” You blinked. ‘Did he… not see?’  You glanced back at your room, now sure that he hadn’t seen what you were worried about. Your gaze landed on your pair of panties, thrown haphazardly on the ground.

‘Crap.’

“...unless you need help?”

“What?” You blinked at him. ‘’Help’? Is he able to tell? Surely he’s not offering-’

“If you ever need help tidying your room while you’re sick, I would be more than happy to assist you.” He cocked his head. “You can tell me if you want me to leave while you don’t feel well, though. You seem to be spacing out.” You couldn’t for the life of you figure out if you were imagining the slight smile playing at the edges of his lips. You swallowed. It wasn’t a good idea to think about his lips too hard while he was right here.

Your rational thought was occupied thinking about Nagito’s soft looking lips. Your voice and impulses jumped at their chance.

“Actually, I could use your help with something. Do you wanna come in for a moment?”

The look on Nagito’s face made you more sure that he did know what you had been doing, and he really was teasing you. The thought alone made you clench your thighs as subtly as you could manage. It was clear he hadn’t actually expected to be invited inside.

“Um, of course.” He swallowed hard. You watched his prominent Adam’s apple bob. You pictured sinking your teeth into it, taking a bite. You stepped back into the room to let him in. You knew he wouldn’t deny you. You knew he wouldn’t ever deny you. He took a tentative step in the room. He’d been in here before, but they were quick visits, to pick up or drop off stuff for collections. Never as your company. You hoped he could feel the tension in the air, too, as you shut the door behind you. He toed off his shoes. You watched his long, gangly legs move ungracefully as he did so. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. You resisted the urge to laugh at the sight of your deep infatuation in zipper shoes. It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. You wanted him so badly.

“What is it that you need?” He asked. He seemed to have put away any illicit ideas. He looked completely innocent. Curious, even. Like a child seeing a butterfly for the first time. You stared at him for a long moment. His calm demeanor cracked and faltered. He picked at his cuticles absent-mindedly, a nervous tic you’d seen many, many times. 

You broke the silence suddenly. “Could you help me change my fitted sheet?” 

“Of course.” He fell back into ease at once. He had always been good at recovering from sudden changes. “I have trouble with mine as well. I don’t look forward to changing it. Where do you keep your-”

“Over there.” You pointed at your closet, behind him. “At the very top. Would you mind grabbing them for me? I can’t reach without standing on a chair.” He chuckled softly.

“Yes, I can picture that.” He turned and walked towards it. At once, you dove to scoop up the two pairs of underwear lying about your room, throwing them under the bed in a panic. You were just barely ready when Nagito turned back around with an unopened package of sheets.

“Thank you.” You beamed.

“It’s my pleasure.” He glanced at the bed. He was standing right next to where his underwear had been. “Should I take them off?”

“What?” ‘Yes. Whatever it is, yes.’

“Your sheets and pillows. What should I do with them?” He looked at you, that wide-eyed, patient look just like earlier. The absurdity of the situation hit you. You hadn’t expected that the activity you’d coerced Nagito into doing with you involving a bed was making it.

“You can just throw them on the floor.” You tossed some in suit. He followed along. A companiable silence followed. Your mouth felt dry. Doing something so comfortably with Nagito was more than nice, it was almost domestic. You worked easily together. Your mind swirled with fantasies of doing this every morning, of waking up next to him, of going to bed with him-

Nagito was looking at you expectantly again. You had missed what he was saying again.

“What?”

“I was just saying that I’m glad we’re making this comfortable for you- I think you should lie back down. I can bring you dinner and fluff your pillows if you’d like.” He smiled at you, a little too wide now. Another one of Nagito’s bad habits you adored- being subtle only when it could have made things more awkward.

“As long as you make sure to fan me with a palm leaf. I’d like my grapes peeled.” 

He leaned across the bed towards you easily, tall as he was, propping himself up with a hand on the mattress. “And should I hand-feed them to you?”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek. His expression sparkled with humor. You wanted to feel those fingertips on your lips. You wanted that devotion he was just joking about. The moment lingered too long, even for him. He cleared his throat and backed up. It felt like a part of you had been ripped away.

You had finished pulling the comforter up. You started piling the pillows back onto the bed. Nagito seemed to be looking for something.

“Where’s the- ah, there it is.” Nagito dropped to his knees. Your attention was diverted at once. You were thankful it was when he began to peek under the bed. Fear spiked through your chest. You scrambled over the bed.

“Wait, wait, wait!” You cried. He popped up as you flew across, catching your foot in the sheets and then his shoulder in your hand- it was the last thing you saw before you were tumbling painfully forward and off the bed. 

When you opened your eyes, you were on top of Nagito. You were so relieved he hadn’t looked for long you didn’t process this properly for a moment, but only for a moment. When you properly came to, you had to take in being pressed chest-to-chest on him on the floor. You pushed yourself up, slowly. One of your legs was between his. Your body hurt from the fall, but you paid that no mind. 

He was more gorgeous underneath you than your blurry mental images could conjure. His hair splayed out playfully across your floor, intimately disheveled. His legs felt thin and bony against yours, but they were against yours. His mouth hung open, slightly agape, a pretty little o-shape. You watched him flush almost in real time.

“Is your head okay?” You finally managed. You could hear the waver in your voice, but couldn’t stop it. It was all too much. You wouldn’t be able to stop it.

“It- it will be-”

“Good, good,” You nodded, and then you were kissing him.

Maybe it was selfish, cupping his face like you did, trying to get a hold of everything you could in that moment. You were sure every ounce of desperation you felt went into that kiss. Your eyebrows furrowed and you tried your best to commit every detail to memory- the soft skin of his cheek underneath your hand, the smell of the soap that was familiar to you now, the sound of his jacket rustling underneath you- but instead, a bright, burning need took you over. One day, perhaps, you would stop underestimating the effect Nagito had on you, but today would not be that day.

So you continued kissing him, delighting in the fact that though clearly still confused, he was kissing you back. The most sadistic part of you (which often seemed to exist in perfect harmony with your undeniable obession) was particularly happy with the position. ‘He can’t pull away like this. He won’t push me back. If there’s any part of him that wants me- he can’t deny it now.’

You pressed another kiss- then another, and another- to Nagito’s lips. A small, creaky noise came from Nagito’s throat. Your heart lept. It seemed his hesitation wasn’t from disliking it. He simply didn’t know what to do. You moved your hand from his cheek and slid it down his arm, finding his hand. You grabbed it and pulled it to your waist at once. ‘You can touch me, you can do anything.’ His grip tightened on it at once. His own kisses came faster, less afraid. ‘Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes-’

You began to swipe your tongue gently across his lips. He opened his mouth tentatively. When you hummed a quiet noise of approval, the hesitation disappeared, replaced with marked eagerness. When your tongue met his, a shudder went through your body. He moved his against you, slipping it into your mouth in kind, excitedly and sloppily. His arms looped around the back of your neck, pulling you closer. Electricity buzzed along all of your nerves, your hair could have been standing on end and you wouldn’t have been surprised. 

His deep, uneven breaths were a gorgeous tune. He was beginning to squirm a bit under you, a wiggle of his hips here, a move of the hand there. You, however, were sliding your hands all over his body quickly, groping and touching at anything you could reach. You dipped them just under the hem of his shirt, not wasting any time in tracing the prominent hip bone you found above his low rise jeans.

“Ah!” He gasped against your mouth. Your eyes flew open and met his. You scanned his face quickly, trying to assess the situation. But the heat, the desperation in his eyes- you knew that couldn’t have been born from a couple of stolen kisses.

The final dam broke.

“God, Nagito-kun,” You kissed quickly down his chin and to his throat. He bared such a vulnerable part of himself to you so easily, so deliciously, and shivered with each light peck. He was clearly sensitive to touch in general. “You- I want-” You fumbled with your words before deciding they would do you no good. With no warning, you ducked down and began to suck harshly at a spot on his neck.

You knew Nagito was a masochist. Even if you’d never heard his self-flagellation, the way he threw himself into situations that continuously upped the ante at times that would have otherwise been peaceful (you still refused to speak of the Watermelon Incident) made it clear that even subconciously, he was careless with himself. Hearing about his luck made him a ‘bit of pleasure with the pain’ type by trade.

But nothing prepared you for the noise he made as you marked him painfully.

“Mmnnah!” He cried out, limbs all clenching around whatever part of you they were nearest. “Ohh…” He pressed himself further against your mouth. How could you hope to deny him? You nuzzled deeper, sucked harder, anything to draw more of those beautiful sounds out of him. You moved down to the junction between his shoulder and neck and simply bit down, gently, then harder and harder-

“Yes, yes, oh!” He whined. “Mark me, use me as yours-”

“Does that feel good, baby?” You murmured against his skin. The vibrations of your own voice so closed against him tickled your lips. You skimmed your fingers across the skin of his stomach, up to his chest. His back arched into your touch. “You want more?”

“M- More?” He repeated, like the word was foreign to him. If you hadn’t been so intent on sucking another already deeply-colored, blossoming mark onto him, you might have backed up to see those wide eyes. You absent-mindedly had begun to buck your hips against his leg. You were getting so wet you could start to feel it between your thighs- of course, now it was also on Nagito’s thigh. Grinding against him, even like this, was heaven. The denim was rough against your sensitive skin but you couldn’t stop. 

You moved your mouth around closer to the front of his throat, a spot that would have been completely visible. You teased him with a couple of light, feathery kisses before beginning to mark him once more. He hissed out his approval. “More,” You repeated, finally pushing yourseslf back off of him. You didn’t give him a moment to catch his breath before dragging and turning his skinny frame so you were both lying parallel to the bed. You didn’t have enough space for what you were planning before. He yelped out as you manhandled him into the right position, but he didn’t seem to mind- in fact, quite the opposite. He was looking at you a bit in awe. However, it really was no feat, Nagito was light putting it generously, and you were propelled by adrenaline.

You didn’t bother acknowledging this. Instead, you shoved the bottom of his shirt all te way up to his neck, completely exposing his torso. Despite having exposed it many times on the tropical island, Nagito squeaked and tried to curl up and hide hismelf a bit, and you still looked at him like it was the first time. His body was pallid and scrawny and littered with scars and burns here and there. Though, it was still rather unassuming. But the skin and the bones barely covered by it held the heart of the devoted, enthralling, blushing boy that you loved. You licked a stripe up right in the middle of his chest with a moan simply to taste his skin. You cherished the barely-there flavor of it, the warmth under your mouth.

You led a trail of open mouthed kisses down from just between the top of his ribs down to right above the top of his pants. You let out a shaky breath as you came face to face with the button on his fly. You could just barely see the bulge in his pants. ‘I guess I’ll have to help him along.’ You nuzzled your face against it lovingly, breathing in his musk. The smell was definitely more intense- and you loved it. Nagito’s hips jumped. He scrambled up a bit from the floor, sitting up and propping himself up with his elbows behind him. He looked at you with wide eyes and pink cheeks.

“What are you doing?”

“You don’t want me to?” You palmed your hand against him. He whimpered at the touch.

“I- I do-”

“I know.” With that, you reached for his button and zipper and undid them, pulling his pants off as quickly as you could. Nagito squawked and fumbled clumsily to help you, but you had it. You tossed his jeans aside, his wallet chain clinking against your hardwood floor. Now he was laid before you in just his underwear and shirt. He looked innocent, delicate even.

“You’re so cute.” You giggled, settling yourself between his legs. “I could just devour you.”

“Wait, wait!” He covered himself with his hand. “I- I should be the one to- to do this to you- I can’t imagine an Ultimate-”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” You huffed, rolling your eyes. ‘What, you’d let any of them do this to you? …I don’t wanna think about that. ’

“Alright… but, still, I, uh, I-” He stammered as you tugged at his underwear impatiently. “I should warn you-” His face was flaming red. He looked so mortified he was going to die. “I’m less than… impressive? I didn’t expect…” He didn’t seem to know how to finish that sentence. 

You snorted. “Is that what you’re worried about?” You didn’t give him the opportunity to hesitate anymore. You pushed aside his hands and pulled off his boxers. You licked your lips in eagerness for the prize that awaited you underneath. “Aww, look at you!” You gushed, finally getting your awaited eyeful. 

Nagito’s cock stood out just a few inches from his body. The small shaft was nestled in sparse, curly, white hair and atop a soft-looking sac. “Mmm, is this a part of your complexes?” You wondered aloud. He seemed too overwhelmed to speak. His creamy, white thighs were trembling around you. You pressed a gentle kiss to one, which only made the shaking worse. He was panting just looking at you between his thighs. You grinned up at him. “I haven’t even done anything yet. Are you this excited? You’re just a cute, little virgin aren’t you?” Your laughter was tinged with cruelty, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was so vulnerable and pathetic, spread out on your floor, looking like he was going to blow his load from just the way you were talking to him. You’d lick his wounds if need be. 

When you wrapped your hand around him (the pink head of his cock barely poking out from above your fist), he breathed a whiny little keen. He didn’t stop making noises as you worked him slowly, stretching his foreskin back and forth over the head, which you watched, enraptured. 

“Ultimate Lucky Student, huh?” You murmured. “Did they not take this into consideration?”

“I-“

With one swift motion, you opened your mouth and took him in completely. With an obscene moan, Nagito melted back into the floorboards. You could fit the entirety of his length down your throat comfortably, which you did for a long moment, savoring his taste and scent. You’d imagined it for what felt like so long, but the real experience was unimaginable. His hair tickled your nose and he filled you just the perfect amount and any thought except for sucking Nagito’s dick and having him lose himself in the pleasure.

“Oh… yes… God, yes…” Nagito cried out. It snapped you out of your daze enough for you to begin bobbing your head. You moved quickly, and with no extra length left ignored by your mouth, your other hands were free to rub along his thighs and grope his ass. Your legs rubbed together continuously, but even the burning feeling of want inside of you was left ignored.  

You sucked your cheeks together so he would rub along them. You laved your tongue around him, trying to swallow up what was leaking from his dripping cock. You were quite literally drooling around him. When you lifted your head to catch your breath, strings of saliva remained attached between the two of you. The rapid pace and sloppiness of it all made the telling, indecent noises that came from a blowjob. But you didn’t care who might have heard. In fact, you wanted them to hear- you hoped everybody would hear what you were doing to Nagito, how he was reacting to it all. You hummed in your own pleasure and moaned around him. You wondered if he could feel how much you enjoyed it. He certainly would later.

“So good, so-” Nagito’s head tossed to and fro as he attempted to keep up with the sensations. “Ahh, ohh,” His legs squirmed and his hands gripped hard onto your shoulders. He seemed to avoid your hair, and the jerks of his hips that you knew were involuntary were halted midway through. ‘Still denying yourself, Nagito-kun?’ You decided to give him a bit of help. You reached and pulled his hands into your hair, one by one. When he finally gave a tug- experimental or accidental, you couldn’t tell- you hummed in approval. Slowly but surely, he became comfortable with the position. Or at least, lost enough control to stop himself.

“Mmnnhhhplease,” He was beginning to slur his words. You could tell he was about to finish. You were surprised he’d lasted the few minutes he had. You moved even faster. His moans got higher and higher, louder and louder. Finally, one of his hands left your hair. You peeked up curiously, doing your best not to stop or slow. He had placed his forearm over his eyes, a giant grin on his face. ‘He’s beautiful.’ You thought dreamily. You pushed through the soreness in your neck and back and continued on.

The hand still in your hand tensed, his hips stiffened, and there was a certain alarm in his jumbled words- but only for a moment before his cum flooded your mouth. You swallowed it down gratefully, reveling in the slightly-there salty flavor. As he finished, his moans became breathy laughter, and he was a vision that couldn’t even open or uncover his eyes, or do anything other than laugh.

You didn’t release him from your mouth until you could feel him getting softer and Nagito had begun to quiet down. Finally, you raised your head, making sure to suck any remaining cum up off his cock. He squeaked at the extra suction.

Nagito was huffing out tired breaths, his chest still heaving. He’d finally moved his arm. He was looking down at you, but he still seemed bewildered.

“You… could have spit it out. I wouldn’t have been offended. In fact, this was much more than I could-”

“Get on the bed.” You ordered, standing up. He blinked up at you. You offered him your hand. He took it and you pulled him up, only to push him back down onto the bed and climb back on top of him to straddle him. His eyes widened. One thing was clear: you weren’t done with him. 

One hand reached down to stroke his cock again. You watched his expression carefully. His eyes rolled up and he bit his lip to hold back a squeak.

“I- I can’t- I’m sorry- it won’t- ah, ah, ohhhh-” His body was shaking. His cock twitched pathetically, but didn’t seem to be filling. Still, you beamed.

“That’s alright, I’ll help you out with that later. We can have fun other ways.” You let go of him and got up on your knees to pull up your skirt. Underneath was your pantiless pussy, which had slickened your inner thighs with a visible, shiny sheen. You bared yourself for his viewing pleasure. Nagito swallowed hard at the sight.

“Did I… am I… did I make you that w- wet?” His mouth stammered on the last word, unused to saying it or speaking like that.

You smiled lovingly at him and cupped his cheek, rubbing your thumb along it. “Mhm. Do you like it?” He nodded quickly, frantically. 

“Yes. Yes, yes, you’re incredibly beautiful.” He breathed, trying to sit up and get nearer. Despite it all, you felt yourself begin to blush. You scooted forward a bit, so your knees were on either side of his chest. Nagito was enraptured, not taking his eyes off of your bottom half. The look on his face was greedy, but it was clear he couldn’t name what for.

“Do you wanna kiss it?” You murmured. He looked up at you, as if to ask ‘really?’. “Go on.” Nagito sat up as much as he could, lids lowered and singularly focused. You pulled his head forward. You angled your hips so his expectant, open lips and slightly extended tongue made contact with your inner lips.

All your muscles relaxed. You sighed out in contentment, carding your fingers through his messy locks. His tongue was soft and hot against your sensitive flesh. He moved his mouth slowly as he really did press a long, lingering kiss to it, dragging the pad of his tongue along your clit. The electric feeling that went through you felt hot enough to burn. You realized he was looking up at you for guidance, mouth still pressed against you. The sight alone made you shudder with delight. 

“Keep going.” You whispered. He obliged at once, dipping his tongue once more between your folds, licking up the length of them. You groaned, head falling back and hips rolling gently against his face. Nagito kept going, the sound of his sloppy, almost-kisses echoing through the room. Your mind began to blank once more as he explored you, repeating motions that made you moan particularly loudly until your legs felt wobbly. You propped yourself up with a hand on your headboard, bowing your back to watch him.

He tentatively rested his hand on your thigh, steadying himself so he could press his mouth closer and deeper. You realized that he must have been straining himself. You moved forward so that you were right above his face. You found that he looked quite at home underneath you with the pleading expression he was giving you. However, you remembered something as you took the sight of him in.

“Oh, that’s right! Lemme just-” You got off the bed and Nagito’s face, turning around off of him so you wouldn’t potentially hurt a hair on his head. You straddled him once more, but now you were facing towards his cock. Before you began to stroke his half-hard cock, you pressed yourself down onto his mouth, muffling his cries. His noises vibrated through you, a feeling that made you squeal and clench your thighs around him. Incidentally, your grip tightened around Nagito. His back bowed in front of you, and there was a steady vibration at his continuous whines.

“Good boy,” You panted, rocking your hips against his open mouth. “Good boy, good boy-” The excitement of the day was quickly catching up to you. After all this time waiting, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop from grinding quickly against Nagito’s tongue, his cock still in your unmoving hand. He was still doing his best to be obedient, laying it flat for you to use when it was clear he couldn’t keep up. Your free hand tore at your shirt, popping a button off or two in your haste to clumsily remove it alongside your bra. Your voice quickly grew louder and louder, and the ramshackle bed shook with your movements. 

“Nagito, Nagito, Nagito,” You chanted his name like a prayer. Your eyes rolled back. You alternated between pinching and pulling at your nipples and running your hands down his stomach and hips, giving his cock the occasional stroke to coax it up once more. “Nagito!” Your hips didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, as you came. You dug your fingers into his sides, where your nails would surely leave marks. Your legs hugged either side of his face and body, and you ground down against his tongue through it. When you stopped moving, he licked at you slowly, ending at your entrance and circling around it.

“You keep that up and you’re gonna end up distracting me from the main event!” You palmed his cock, your hand easily enveloping it. You teased the head of it with your fingertips, making him mewl underneath you. You finally lifted yourself off of his face. His chest rose and fell harshly. You could feel his gasps, hot against your skin. You didn’t think you could ever get tired of watching his reaction. You moved to a spot next to him on the bed so you could see all of him once more. 

“And here I thought you couldn’t go again.” You teased, running one fingertip from underside of tip to base. He looked alarmed. Or, as alarmed a clearly exhausted man could look.

 He sat up slowly, like an old man with aging bones, but it was only his muscles that were weak. “I- I’m sorry- but I don’t think my pathetic body can-”

“You’re right, you look like you can barely stand.” You hummed pensively. Your hand did not stop its movement. Nagito’s sweaty forehead came to rest on your bare shoulder with a defeated, weak sort of noise. You were afraid he’d be able to hear the butterflies in your stomach swarming about. “So I’ll do all the work for you!” You beamed. You pushed him back into the bed, making sure to be gentle. It hadn’t taken much force at all.

“You’ll- huh? Uh-” 

You ignored him as you slid off the bed onto the floor by the foot. ‘His neck is bruising beautifully.’ You thought cheerily. “Come closer, honey. I promise you won’t have to move any more after that.” You beckoned him. His blush reached the tips of his ears. He nodded wordlessly, his mouth pressed into a tight, abashed line. 

He didn’t meet your eye as he slid himself down towards you. He didn’t seem to understand what you were about to do- but you didn’t blame him. If you had found out at breakfast what you were planning, and more importantly, about to actually do, you would have likely collapsed. “A little more- good boy.” As his legs came down over the edge of the bed, he began to move his knees to one side so as not to hit you. You chuckled. “No, no, not like that.” You grabbed his legs and spread them open. He yelped. “That’s better.” 

Your mouth watered at the sight. You knew you were just moments away from something you had wanted for so long. You wanted to savor it, to mark his thighs with your mouth, to praise him until he couldn’t take it, to draw another orgasm from him- but you just couldn’t. Despite also having just cum, your insides burned and ached to be filled worse than you had ever experienced. Your mind felt hazy. Any conscious thought left concerned just how badly you wanted Nagito inside you.

With his legs open and inviting, it was easy to get close enough to slide his cock between your lips, even while standing. Nagito choked on his spit as he accidentally attempted to speak and gasp at once. You gave him a moment to recover, but it did nothing to deter your lust.

“Are you alright?”

“Mm- mhm!” He managed through coughs. You laughed fondly at him, just a bit. 

When he’d finally stopped, you asked him another question, beginning to move your hips again. Your pussy and thighs slid around him, back and forth. “Does it- Does it feel good?” It was your turn to be embarrassed. Instead of coming out sultry and commanding, your own worry leaked into your stammered words. However, if Nagito noticed, he did an incredibly impressive job at pretending he didn’t. 

He nodded frantically. His eyes were shut tight. “Uh-huh, yes, yes, it feels- you feel-” As he spoke, you continued to move your hips forward, and forward until- “Oh! Oh-” His cock slipped into your eager body. You didn’t stop, pushing yourself forward until you had taken all of him, and the front of both of your hips were pressed together. You watched him disappear inside of you.

You laid your hand down on his stomach delicately, half-afraid he would disappear beneath your fingertips. Your eyes finally flickered up his body and to his face. He looked up at you through lowered lids. It startled you a bit when you realized there was something in there you didn’t recognize, something that made you feel like you were burning from the inside out. 

Then he laid his hand on top of yours. Behind you, his legs wrapped around your waist.

Oh. The look in his eyes. You did know it. Something he’d kept guarded and hidden from you this whole trip- despite how often you looked, despite how much you thought you knew him- desire.

The last bit of your restraint snapped.

You gripped him by the waist hard and ground yourself against him in frantic, long strokes, rubbing your swollen clit against him as best as you could. You squeezed unconsciously around him with each motion. “Hah… haha…” You laughed breathlessly. “Do you want me to fuck you, Nagito-kun?”

“Yes- yes!” He moaned, back arching against the bed at the thought alone. “P- please-”

“Shh… I told you already, you don’t have to move a muscle.” You purred before rolling your hips back and forth against him. His legs and ass felt silky soft around you. You grabbed one of his thighs to help anchor your movement. You adjusted once more, and then-

He cried out as you slammed against him. You might have made a noise just like that, but you didn’t notice. Your mind focused singularly on his, it screamed at you to make him make it again, to make him scream. You slammed against him again, and again, and again- his legs tightened around you as he filled you. His noises bounced with your eager, unrelenting pace.

“God, I love this cute little cock of yours.” You gushed. Nagito made a sort of moan that was half-embarassment, half-pleasure, and half-exhausted. “Is that mean to say? To call it cute? And little? Well, that’s alright, I love it either way.” You babbled. “You feel so good inside of me, so good, so good- What was that?” You leaned down a bit to listen to the words he was trying to slur together, not bothering to stop however.

“Faster… please…” He managed. Your face lit up.

“Even faster?” You didn’t wait another second before pushing his legs up and clambering back onto the bed with him. His legs tightened close, seemingly reflexively. You giggled at the cute display. You got on you knees, one on either side of his legs. He grabbed onto his legs, keeping them up and spread for you. You smirked down at him. “There you go, baby. Just like that.”

“Aha… I didn’t even realize what I was doing…” He deflected, as always.

“Then it must come naturally.” You continued to lay the praises on him, as always. Now you could lean over to kiss him easily, and you took full advantage of it. Nagito’s mouth was cold from lying open-mouthed, panting. You reveled in it, knowing it was the payoff of your work. You reached blindly for his cock, stroking it, feeling how wet you’d made it. Nagito’s approval was muffled in your mouth as you played with the tip of his dick. You wanted to drown in his noises. Finally, when it got to be too much, you pulled away from his lips. He sought you out, trying to lean up for you until you pushed him back down. “It’s alright. I told you, I’ve got this.”

“Okay, okay, oh, God, just… please, fuck me-” His mouth, now uncovered, continued to plead. You gave him what he wanted. You pulled his cock back into you and picked back up at once. “Yesss…” A smile melted onto his face once more. His eyebrows furrowed together and he gripped onto the sheets on either side of him.

You moved faster, the bed’s headboard hitting the wall. This was certainly audible to those that happened to walk past your cabin, much like your name, which Nagito cried out freely. Maybe it was the position, but you had never heard someone inside of you make more noise than you. He was adorable, lost and confused in the pleasurable haze. You shivered, clenched around his cock.

Soon, you realized his hips had begun to buck up, trying to speed up the pace, trying to take any bit of control- that wouldn’t do. “I told you.” You grabbed his hip on one side and used all of your weight to push it back into the mattress, fingers digging into his skin cruelly. “I’ve got this.”

“Yes, yes,” Nagito nodded frantically, and you couldn’t tell if he was agreeing with you, or just expressing how good it felt. “I- I’m gonna-”

“You’re gonna cum?” You pounced on the possibility at once. “Oh God, do you wanna cum inside me, Nagito-kun?” The sloppy, lewd sounds of your skin meeting echoed through the room. “Cum inside me- oh, get me pregnant-” A laugh escaped you. It poured out like the rest of your words. Your thighs burned but you barely felt it. “Don’t you dare fucking finish yet- I’m not, ah, I’m not nearly done with you yet-” He looked up at you with furrowed brows. You could practically see the gears spinning in his head as he tried to keep up with it all. “Fuck, your cock is so cute, you’re so cute, Nagito-kun-”

“P- please, please, please,” He sobbed. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it- anything, anything-”

“If you keep talking like that,” You leaned down to talk into his ear. “I’m going to milk every last drop from you.” You punctuated your sentence with another bite on his neck. His legs tightened around your waist. His arms came to hold you tight. His voice, right by your ear whimpered, then gave out. You bounced once, twice, thrice, before sinking all the way down and burying his cock as deep as you could get it. Your orgasm rushed through you fast and violent as you felt him cum pressed against your womb. You practically screamed your release against his neck.

You committed to memory the feeling of his spent cock twitching inside of you. You held each other as your minds finally began to clear and the last spasms ran through your bodies. Eventually, Nagito stifled a yawn.

“Poor thing. All sapped of his strength.” You pecked his cheek. A tiny, sleepy smile graced his features. You finally pulled off of him with a small sigh. You slid your fingers through your slit, bringing up a mixture of his cum and your slick. The sight of it in your hands made your heart jump all over again. “C’mere.” You moved back onto the pillows. He followed shakily. You pulled the covers down and over him. “You look like you need a nap.”

“I- I suppose so-” You curled up to him eagerly, tucking yourself neatly under his chin and wrapping your arms around him. He was silent for a moment. “I… I have to be honest with you about this.” He struggled with the words. “I’ve thought about it this whole time, but uh, I don’t understand the joke.”

“...what?”

“I mean, you seemed to be enjoying yourself, so- ah, this isn’t to say that I didn’t enjoy myself- in fact, it was better than I ever imagined, or ever could have imagined- I just… still don’t exactly understand… the whole… joke.” He gestured vaguely with his hands. You slowly looked up at him, not saying anything. It made him uncomfortable, as you’d intended.

“What joke-”

“I just figured that, well, after what Soda-kun had said, I figured that you two had maybe planned something? Or, er, is this your way of punishing me for the conversation earlier? I don’t know why you’d decide on this method, however-”

“Nagito, I’m in love with you.”

His eyes darted around the room, like he was expecting someone to jump out of the woodwork.

“I don’t- I don’t… get it-”

You let go of him and opened up your bedside drawer. “I don’t know if I could get you to believe me any other way.” With no warning, you pulled out his underwear and handed it to him. He stared at them for a long moment. “You, uh. You can have them back.”

Finally, with wide eyes, he whispered, “...I knew they went missing.”

[clown420cunt]

The choke hold ‘Tear You Apart’ by She Wants Revenge has on my daydreaming ass is not okay!

Picture Eddie and reader to those lyrics. Eddie just leaning in and whispering into her ear.

“I want to fucking tear you apart”

That’s it, just kill me slowly.

[pink-evilette]

[justrohanlove]

Haven't posted any Rohan art in a long time... I heard this song while looking at some DIU screenshots and realized in Rohan's case it could have two meanings... Also tried a more first-person selfship angle for this piece!

[mermaidgirl30]

He was a like a clouded thunderstorm. Tinted dark blue, impenetrable, intense, a storm so strong he’d knock down anything he placed his calloused fingers on. Then you came along. Sunlight, golden shades of amber that stilled his clouded grey skies. You were warmth, and when you touched him all he felt was home. The sunlight that sparked wildfire through his veins. A light so blinding that all he saw was you. His favorite shade was you.

[unholy-cvlt]

LOVE IS THE LAW, LOVE UNDER WILL

"Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law."

Aleister Crowley, The Book of the Law