SCREAMING CRYING I’m so soft for Nagito...I want to gently brush his hair, taking care not to tug or rip a single strand, making sure he’s as comfortable as possible...his hair would be soft as a cloud, and I’d play with it a little bit, running my fingers through, maybe even giving him a kiss on the top of his head, all of this in the hope that I might make him feel loved.
The sun is beginning to set, and you are still alone.
Shifting uncomfortably, you check the folded note in your hands for the umpteenth time. The scrawled text remains the same; If you have nothing to do today, please meet me behind the main building after school. There's something I have to tell you.
Well, you're here. You've been here for the last forty minutes, and you're about ready to give up and go home. Was this just someone's idea of a joke? To what end? Besides, you didn't quite think anybody in your class was quite cruel enough to do such a thing, not even Hiyoko - she wasn't one for careful thought-out pranks. She just took jabs at the things immediately in front of her (especially if the thing immediately in front of her was Mikan).
You cast one final look up and down the abandoned pathway, then lean down to grab your bag with a sigh. You're trying not to feel so dejected. It's just... well, you hang around with Sonia and Mahiru and Akane a lot, and they get confessions by the dozen. Hiyoko had stopped turning up to school on Valentine's day because she knew she'd be absolutely swamped in letters and sweets. Compared to them, you've never been the centre of attention. And you're not shallow, or bitter - you just thought it might've been nice that someone had actually taken an interest in you.
Whatever. You tug your bag onto your shoulder irritably and turn to leave, infinitely grateful that it is the last day of the term before winter break. You don't think you could stomach going in after this. Maybe you'll get something nice for dinner to make yourself feel better. And a sweet, hot drink. And a movie. and—
"Ah, w-wait! Please, wait!"
Shock thrums through you, and you flinch at the sudden noise, whirling on your heel with wide eyes. There's a figure sprinting between the two buildings towards you, an arm overhead waving frantically, and your heart leaps. A moment later, they are close enough for you to realise who it is, and you're shellshocked all over again.
Nagito stops before you, cheeks flushed red with effort and cold, hands on his knees as he catches his breath in sharp, wheezing bursts. "I apologise!" he chokes out the first chance he gets. "I was... there was a... I was - unavoidably - held up..."
"Uhh... it's okay?" Your cheeks are very warm. "Are you - I mean, is everything alright?"
He looks up at you, smiling. It makes your stomach flip. "Yes, perfectly fine," he says cheerily. "The gardens are going to be short of a Kamakura statue for a while, but... ah, but why am I wasting your time with my pathetic excuses? You should be furious for wasting your precious afternoon already."
Your breath catches. "Th-then it was you? You wrote this for me?" Your hand clenches over the paper; it crinkles in the sudden quiet. And it is quiet, a perfect winter evening, broken by the icy wind. The sun dips below the horizon, the sky steel-purple with the fading embers of sunset, and in the muted light, Nagito looks almost ethereal. His eyes are lurid when he finally regains his breath and straightens up, lips twisting into an apologetic frown.
"I truly can't apologise enough," he says solemnly, bowing his head. "I even left class early to ensure I'd be here on time, but as luck would have it... ah, but you probably don't care about that, of course."
"Of course I care," you blurt out before you can stop yourself. Nagito whips his head up, surprised, as he always is when you confront him with undressed affection. "You're - you're my friend, so..."
Nagito's expression lifts; a flush, lovesick-pink, invades the points of his cheekbones, and his mouth parts gently, something glimmering and soft filling his eyes. He looks... your stomach flips. Nagito is intense, you tell yourself. He feels everything so deeply. This isn't the first time he's looked at you like this - like you'd hung the stars in the sky, all for him - just because you deigned to show him basic human decency. And yet... here, behind the school in the dying summer light, it almost feels...
"You're too kind," he says softly, beginning to pick at the hem of his blazer. "F-for someone as radiant as you to even consider an insect like me... sometimes I feel as if I've dreamt you up. Like I'm going to open my eyes and you'll be gone."
A lump rises in your throat, as you are once again reminded painfully why Nagito clings to you so. With how much he's lost, how could he not? Nagito must mistake your expression for something else, because his eyes widen in panic.
"I - I've upset you," he breathes, looking quietly horrified. "I'm truly sorry, I didn't mean - oh, this isn't going how I wanted at all..."
"Nagito!" You clutch at his hands, which shake beneath your contact. You hold him gently, trying not to frighten him, and he hisses through his teeth at the contact, gaze locked frantically on where your fingers curl over his. The touch had been thoughtless on your end, but now all you're focusing on is how cold he runs, the inky webbing of veins beneath his papery skin, the quiet trembling running through him. "I'm not upset, it's okay. I'm just... happy that I can be here for you, okay?"
His wavering gaze does not leave your intertwined hands. "I don't know why I thought I could do this," he whispers. "W-why I ever thought I could possibly have the right..."
"The right to what?" Your stomach clenches. "Nagito, did you..."
A bitter smile touches at his lips. "Well, yeah - it was me who wrote you that note. Who else would waste your time by being almost forty minutes late? Ha, haha... So you see, your friendship is wasted on me. B-because I don't... I never know when to..." His hand clenches yours tightly, suddenly, as he clings to you like you're a lifeline. He still won't look at you, but his voice is growing strangled and thick, as though he's holding back tears. "I'm selfish, you see. Disgustingly so. I'm arrogant to a fault, entitled enough to think... to think that you could possibly..."
His voice dies in earnest when you hook two fingers beneath his chin and tilt his head up; his eyes, wide with surprise at the contact, glimmer with unshed tears, and his mouth trembles.
"Nagito," you say softly, trying not to notice how he winces. "What was it you wanted to tell me?"
He wheezes a laugh, vaguely panicked, and his gaze darts frantically. "Don't tell me you need someone like me to spell it out for you? The shame might be too much..."
"Do you..." You can barely breathe; the world is spinning. "You like me? Is that it?"
Nagito blinks; tears break free and roll down his red cheeks. His eyes fly over your face, as if committing your every feature to memory, as if he thinks you're about to strike him and order him never to look at you again. Your heart breaks; he feels so fragile beneath you.
"Ah... not quite," he mumbles, voice heartwrenchingly small. "Of course I'd never waste your time with something like that. Something as insignificant as a passing crush. Regrettably, it's - it's more. I tried to make it stop - tried to make myself cherish m-my closest friend, but..." He looks agonised. "It's won't go away. It's ripping out my heart from the inside. I - I need you to tell me... to put my delusions to rest. I can't apologise enough - but I need you to t-tell me it can't ever..."
"I can't tell you that," you interrupt him quickly. "I'm sorry Nagito."
He wilts, nodding tiredly. "Of course. You shouldn't have to—"
"Because I - I love you, too."
For a moment, Nagito only blinks at you; his whole expression caves him, the shock turning him physically pale. As faint as he suddenly looks, you're wondering if that might have been the wrong thing to say after all. Nagito sways on his feet in a way that makes you infinitely grateful that you're already holding onto him.
"What?" he says dumbly. "Wh-what? Why would you - what?"
You swallow. No going back now. "It's true. It's... I'm sorry, I didn't want to tell you like this, but..."
"Please don't." Fresh tears well up in Nagito's eyes. "I c-can't - I can't take it. I'm not..."
"You are," you say patiently. "You are deserving, or worthy, or whatever it is you were about to say. I love y—"
"You don't," Nagito insists, placing his free hand on your mouth to stop your words. "You're kind, to try and spare my worthless feelings, but I can't let you do this to yourself. I won't allow you to trap yourself in with me. I won't let you ruin your own life like this."
And now it's your turn to cry; tears bloom in your eyes, hurt and sorrow thrumming through you in equal measure. You pry Nagito's hand from your face, and he offers no resistance at all. He's turned to wax, a puppet pliable to your whims. If only his brain were of the same material - if only you could make him see.
"You could never, ever ruin me," you tell him as firmly as you're able. "And I'm not lying, or trying to spare your feelings, or saying this out of pity. I respect you far too much for that. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't tell you that I did. Please, believe me."
Nagito is frozen, helpless to do anything but stare and shake as tears roll down his face. "Why?" he whispers eventually. "I don't understand... you... I..."
You cup his face, brushing aside the warm tears, and Nagito shudders and whimpers at the softness. Your heart pounds. "Can't explain it," you mutter. "I just love you. You're kind, and beautiful, and I've loved you for almost a year, and—"
Nagito moves; it's a lurch forward with no warning at all, like his body has stuttered, like he'd moved before his brain had a chance to catch up. It's plain what he was going to do, the way he grips your wrists, the way his lips brush yours and your heart flips in your chest - but as soon as his mouth makes the lightest contact with yours, he freezes.
He jerks back, horrified, scarlet. "I - I'm sorry!" he yelps. "I don't know what possessed me - you must be truly disgusted, that an insect like me thought to get so close to you without even asking permission, that I dared to—"
And this time, it's your turn; you duck your head up swiftly and capture his mouth in a kiss. It's short, and it tastes like saltwater and cold air, and it's made awkward by the way Nagito totally freezes at the contact, the way his hands tighten over your wrists hard enough to hurt. When you pull back, his eyes are round as coins, fluttering in unadulterated shock, mouth agape and blushed pink.
"You -" he says faintly, shellshocked. "W-why would..."
"Because I wanted to," you say firmly. "I wanted to kiss you, and I wanted you to kiss me. It's okay, Nagito. I promise, it's okay."
And with that final affirmation, Nagito breaks. His knees give out with a choked sob, and he buries his hand into his hands and wails. Silently, you follow him to the ground, gathering his thin, trembling frame in your arms to rock him gently, brush a hand through his hair as he weeps and stumbles over frantic apologies.
You soothe him as best you can as the sky grows dark. "It's okay, lovely," you hum as he laments about 'messing up the kiss like the ‘worthless worm he is.' "There'll be other chances, I promise."
If ur comfortable w it, can you do nagito with a gn s/o who tends to pick their skin randomly?
NAGITO KOMAEDA & A S/O WHO PICKS AT THEIR SKIN.
pairing — nagito komaeda / gn reader
content — skin picking, mentions of pulling at eyelashes and other tics and habits, mentions of bleeding.
anon i felt this on a spiritual level.
honestly nagito has a few tics and habits of his own - he chews the sleeves of his clothing, tugs at his hair, and when he was younger he went through a phase of pulling at his eyelashes.
so he understands habits are very difficult to break, and he won't nag you about it honestly.
BUT on the other hand he knows it isn't good for you and it makes him kind of upset :((
if you pick at yourself to the point where you're in pain or bleeding he'll be distraught. he'll blame himself for not keeping an eye on you as he fusses over your skin.
he buys you a lot of expensive creams and salves to apply to yourself, and spends a ton of time researching habit-breakers.
will gently pull your hands away from your skin if he catches you picking and immediately try to distract you.
if he sees you pulling at your hangnails, he'll quickly interlace his own hand with yours with a smile and pull you away to look at something interesting.
it's one of the only times he initiates physical contact without asking extensively first. most times he doesn't even ask, he just waits for you to do it </3
but if the cost of keeping you healthy and safe is confronting his own terror, so be it.
if you bite or pick at your lips, he showers you with balms and chapsticks and reminds you to apply every hour on the hour.
if he senses or you indicate that it's a little smothering he'll get such a kicked puppy look. he's only trying to look out for you :( but he doesn't want to overstep his boundaries so ofc he respectfully backs away.
but he is still working from the shadows 👀
reminds you continually that he loves you endlessly and that your habit doesn't change a thing. he truly wouldn't even notice it if it weren't for the concern.
the moment you enter the house, nagito knows that something is very wrong.
it's the way you hold yourself, he thinks, and immediately goes into high alert. is it something he's done? are you angry with him, or frustrated? has his luck tipped again, and taken its wrath out upon you this time? he starts shaking as his thoughts begin to spiral. oh, he'd known this would happen eventually, how could he be so stupid, he never should have allowed himself to get near you—
you flop down on top of him with a groan, and nagito freezes.
for a moment, he only exists in the places where you touch him, the warmth of your body seeping through his clothes and cold, papery skin. he can't even remember to breathe, not when you're this close. the effect you have on him is stunning. he blinks wide eyes, limbs despondent at his sides.
and then it's like a switch flips, and he scrambles upright, hands flying to your arms as he pulls you back in a panic. "a-are you alright?" he frets, scanning for injury, for life in your eyes, "are you in pain? you're not—"
"i'm okay," you sigh, patting him clumsily on the head, and his words abruptly fail him yet again. "i mean... i'm not, i've had a horrible week. sorry for climbing all over you with no warning..."
"n-no!" nagito blurts, cheeks burning. "it's - that is to say, i..." he swallows, avoiding your gaze. "do you want me to... leave?"
he braces himself for the 'yes.' of course you'll want your space, without some insect crawling at your ankles and crowding you in, breathing in your ear.
your brows furrow. "huh? no, i kind of just wanted to be held. is that okay?"
nagito blinks, trying to compute this. he licks his lips uncertainly. "by... me?"
and now the tension in your face breaks, like the sun clearing through a stormcloud, and you let loose a breathy laugh. nagito stares, bemused, as you reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair and press a kiss to the crown of his head. instinctively, he melts into you, eyes drifting shut. when you hold him like this - so gently, as if he is a thing worthy of being tended to - it's so easy to feel dreamlike, like he's drifting in some valhalla or paradise because surely on in some idyllic afterlife could you want to put your perfect hands on someone like him.
but you're real. it makes him teary, even now, even when he should be accustomed to it.
"by no one but you," you mumble, and nagito swallows a wounded sound with difficulty. "if that's okay."
he gulps back tears that threaten to spill and nods rapidly against your shoulder. "of - of course. i would never dream... while i have you... please."
with a deep sigh, you plant yourself in his lap and rock the two of you backwards so that he sinks into the couch. he scrambles for a hold as you squirm, cheeks tinted red at the prolonged contact, at the intimacy, at the loveliness of it all. finally, you relax with a muffled contented noise, your head in his chest, legs tangled together. he is so warm, and so soft, and his heart glows.
unable to help himself - overcome by greed swollen with affection - he presses his smiling lips to your head, delighting in the shudder that passes through your body at the contact.
"thank you," you mumble sleepily into his shirt, the words buzzing straight through him with a shiver.
"it's my pleasure," he assures you, misty-eyed. "now and always, for as long as you want me."
