#maybe ill draw a bonus of where he does get kissed lol

[flamestar126]

Would a kiss suffice?

[nagito-kissmaeda]

Yandere Komaeda Headcanons submitted by Chaos under the cut (y) Warnings: Slight nsfw, yandere behavior, stalking, mention of suicide, masturbation (not very explicit.)

Yandere Nagito probably wasn't very Yandere before you came along. The unlucky boy was probably still the funky little creep to his classmates as always but as soon as you step through the doorway of 77-B's classroom then he kind of just thought, "Oh, they're pretty." And continued with his day. He didn't think too much of you.

If you were an ultimate who walked into the classroom, he wouldn't have thought much of it besides the idea that "YoU wErE sPrEaDiNg HoPe 😩"

If you were a reserve course student, on the other hand, he would think he is slightly superior. So, if you talk to him he'll feel like he's better than you but won't say anything except under certain circumstances (ex: You ask him for his opinion of you, his opinion on reserve course, that kind of stuff. At least, he's honest :/) But keep in mind, he only really acts like this when you two first meet.

After getting to form a friendship with you (however that happened, I'll leave that up to you), his crush on you takes shape quickly.

He mostly just did small stuff that made it obvious that he liked you (whether he realized it or not.) If you weren't around he'd be asking everyone in sight if they knew where you were. He'd linger uncomfortably close to you whenever you two were together. The unlucky boy also tended to...✨follow✨ you.

Bestie, run while you still can 🏃‍♀️💨 because after he kidnaps you you're gonna be more like ♿

(I guess that's assuming you can run at all...sorry if I offended someone ._.)

When you two are hanging out, he eventually opens up to you about his illnesses and past. All of what he told you would probably be a lot to process so the only thing you can think of besides, "I'm so sorry that happened to you," is that you just hug him. Now he's shocked. You're both shocked. wOAH! Nagito doesn't move at all during the hug and probably forgot to breathe because c'mon...homie hasn't received any form of physical affection for God knows how long. He's drawing a total blank and the first words that spring to his mind are, "I'm going to marry them."

You cannot tell me this man doesn't want to get married one day. Yes, his luck sucks fat juicy butt but it's just something he craves and can be selfish about. Nagito's opinion on his want for having a spouse goes back and forth, like how the fitness gram pacer test works (I bet some of you don't even know that this is something outside of a meme lol.) He probably got this desire from seeing how bad his parents' relationship was.

Nerdy headcanon stuff you don't have to read: So, it isn't canon that his parents had a bad relationship but I imagine that they did because Nagito mentions that his mom had never complimented him and he gained a massive inheritance after his family's death. Let me explain my logic on those. Nagito's mom probably never complimented him because she didn't like or want him. I also headcanon that his parents were in an arranged marriage which is why they were so rich and why I think they had a bad relationship, because let's be honest, not all arranged couples are comfortable with one another. The arranged marriage also could've been the reason why his family was wealthy, it could have had to do with business and work. So to wrap it all up, Nagito's parents are rich because of an arranged marriage and they don't really like each other and they had a kid that neither of them wanted so now it's a broken family with a fucked up kid. I know that sounds like a stretch but that's why it's a headcanon and not actually canon lol.

After that one hug, that's when he truly sees you as some sort of ethereal Deity that he was sure he was going to wed in the future (Hell, he'd probably settle for right there, right now.) He no longer cared if you were an ultimate or not because now he saw you as something even greater. Of course, he still views himself as scum but even scum has desires that they are willing to do anything for.

After Nagito had come back to his dorm, the realization hit him that if he was going to marry you, he would have to be worthy of your hand in marriage. So, he prepares. By that I mean he starts stalking you a lot.

You two were already friends on social media so you probably didn’t dwell too much on it when you found him accidentally liking old posts. He’d go on your socials and scroll through it looking for every little bit of information he could find on you. Sometimes he'd strike gold and other times he'd dig up dirt. Nagito began talking to you a lot more so he could gain some information on your likes and dislikes. You only assumed that he was more comfortable with talking to you now because he confided his troubles in you but in reality he was planning your future life with him. Once in a while you'd invite to your dorm whether it was for hangouts, study sessions, or just sleepovers (he absolutely LOVED it when you brought those up.) The only opening he had to steal stuff is when you went to the bathroom and when that happened all he'd do every single time is go to the closet, grab another one of the pillow cases that the dorm provides, and switch them out with your current ones. When the pillowcase stops smelling like you then he just sticks it in the school's laundry basket where things like bed sheets, pillow cases, and blankets that belong to the school go.

After weeks after weeks of obtaining bits and pieces of information on you such as food you like and dislike, what your family is like (If you/your oc has one), your favorite movies, music genres, and clothing, etc., He eventually realized that he lacked three more things. Romance, experience, and…"performance."

The one thing he absolutely needed to learn first was "How to kiss." Even though no one sees his search history besides him, it was still very  embarrassing to put those words on his computer. He typed those three letters into the google machine and ta-da! A wikihow page and a YouTube video were apparently his best options. He opted for the latter and watched as a lady and her boyfriend demonstrated how to perform different types of kisses. Intimate and sexual. He feels awkward just watching this and he feels like he should practice but...on what? Luckily for him, there is a perfectly good pillow lying on his bed.

...This was definitely weird. His chapped lips were pressed against the plush pillow as he imagined he was french kissing you. This doesn't seem like the greatest method but Nagito doesn't seem to have any other choice.

The pillow in front of me was wrinkled and slightly wet from where I had last kissed it. It felt beyond awkward to kiss a pillow and imagine it was your future partner. I couldn't imagine them walking in on me as my face was buried in a pillow while moaning out muffled noises. It would be far too embarrassing but, I've faced worse. Practice should continue or else my mouth will never come as even a fraction of pleasure to my love. I approach the pillow and lay, stomach down, on my bed again. While this has been an awkward situation, my insides are starting to feel like they're on fire! It's probably just the thought of Y/N floating around in my brain. I take a deep breath before cupping my hands at the corners of the pillow and diving my mouth towards the pillow once more. I start off with a short kiss but continuously start moving my lips against, what I imagine to be, their lips. I move my bottom lip more often than my top. Imagining I'm trapping their lips against mine. Just the thought of trapping them makes me grind my hips against the mattress a little. Even though I'm soft I still let out a little whimper. Does Y/N even like it when their partner makes noise? I wasn't able to find any information on what she likes in bed so...with my luck, I'll just leave it to chance. My kisses get more sloppy and desperate. I begin swiping and swirling my tongue against the pillow thinking about just what it might feel like to make out with them. Their hot, wet mouth pressing up against mine while our tongues rub against one another in an attempt to touch each other. I moan seemingly too loud at that thought and start humping the bed. Everything feels so hot.

Maybe combining kissing practice and "performance" practice would be a good idea.

Once he starts performance practice, his browser is constantly on sex related websites. But more on the education side...he wants to know how to make you feel good and how to make himself last longer. Once in a while, he does go on the hub though so he can pretend it's you and him having sex on the screen. He tries his best to look for ones where it sounds like you or looks like you. He prefers the ones where it sounds like you so that way he could just close his eyes and imagine you and him are together. 

Just a random bonus I thought I'd add in: He got a boner during class once and sat there for like ten minutes just waiting for it to go away. So he just ended up palming himself through his pants and struggled to not make any noise. He liked to imagine you were under the desk pressing your face against his clothed crotch and just rubbing your face around that area. Luckily, he came without letting a single noise slip past his lips. Unluckily, Nagito cums a lot. So everyone could see the enormous wet spot on the crotch of his pants when class was dismissed.

He happens to have a weird habit of doing domestic and soft things with a hint of creepy. For example, one of his favorite things to do as of recently is print out a picture that has your face in it, tape it to his pillow, and fall asleep cuddling it. This sounds fine if you two were dating but… you aren't. He'll give it kisses, cuddle with it, fall asleep with it, and, of course, it's what he uses during his performance practice. He also enjoys eating meals with it and watching movies while cuddling it too. He perceives it all as practice for when you two are wed.

I'm going to assume you aren't an oblivious idiot and just say that you probably began to notice how weird he'd get around you. You tried distancing yourself a little bit but enough to still stay friends. He noticed the change in how often you'd hang out with him and his anxiety skyrocketed. Nagito would feel he had only a couple choices left. And that was to kidnap you, get rid of any obstacles that didn't allow him to spend every waking moment with you, or just flat out kill you so that way no one could have you. He already knew he wouldn't be able to even breathe without you so he'd likely kill himself as well in the process.

Author's Note: I'll probably be discontinuing that one Nagito x reader chapter 2 because I wasn't able to finish it before the school year started and I was just dissatisfied with the chapters BUT! I do have plenty of headcanons on yandere Komaeda! Message me if you want some far more nsfw headcanons because I have a lot for this guy.  I'm also very open to crackfic oneshots.

[sigritandtheelves]

Au where mulders a writer of sci fi stories and Scullys a scientist hired by his editor to fact check some of his stories. Bonus points if theres a romantic subplot in his story and they quote lines to each other

A/N: This gets a bit meta for a quick sec. It is also… irredeemable fluff. I’ve had a hard few days and I needed something wholesome. I am 100% sure I will regret it in the morning, lol.

—

1.

He wants this one to be different. He needs the science to feel more real than the speculative world-building he’s done in his last three books. The universe should feel like ours, he thinks—its physics and its materiality should have the same weight. Its atoms the same heft. This is going to be the one, he thinks. The one that puts his name on the charts. It needs to not just be right, but to feel right. He calls his editor, asks about a consultant.

His index finger disappears inside the looping plastic phone cord as he talks—feet on the desk beside his word processor.

“Well, I might know someone,” his editor says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… she’s good. Not usually her line of work, but she’s bored with her day job. I think she’d take it on.”

“You think.” Mulder senses hesitation—the pause draws out a moment too long. “Charlie?”

“Yeah, Mulder. The thing is, it’s my sister.”

“Your—huh.”

“I’ll give her a call tonight if you want?”

“Okay.” The chair creaks as he sits up to bring the receiver to it’s cradle, but then at the last minute—“Hey Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

“Is she hot?”

The line goes dead.

2.

She is, though. Hot. Not porno hot, but… something. Dana Scully is short and fresh-faced, spring-stepped and the tiniest bit awkward a suit that seems ill-fitting, a little uncomfortable. She’s a pathologist—usually spends her days in scrubs, he thinks. But she majored in physics and her science is blade sharp, a razor to scrape his work clean.

“So in the novel,” she says, “It’s a conspiracy of men?”

“And aliens,” he says.

Her look is wariness and amusement, eyebrows to the hairline, red lips pinched to hold in a smile.

“See, they’re working together. They’re developing a colonizing agent that will wipe out most of the population.”

“Unless your hero can stop them.”

“Right.”

“And he’s a scientist?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan.”

“He’s working alone?”

“He has kind of a sidekick, a friend who’s a conspiracy nerd, spends all his days in his mom’s basement, connecting dots.”

She purses her lips and he senses her skepticism.

“What?”

“Are there any women in the book?”

“The main character’s mom is in one scene. And there’s a sexy informant. Plus the aliens abduct several women, and I tell their stories too.”

The lip pursing has been joined by a disapproving squint. “Let me read your draft,” she says.

3.

It comes back with notes. So very many notes. At first he balks—digs in his heels and swears at the marked-up manuscript on his desk. He throws a pillow, kicks his trash can. He wanted science notes, not… ugh. Of course, she has given him the science notes… and story notes and character notes and structural notes and even a few on language. He ignores the last page, where she’s placed a yellow sticky-note:

I know this is a lot but it’s only because I really like it. I think it could be great. Call me and we’ll talk about it more?

He frowns. He pouts. He doesn’t touch the book for a week. How dare she? He thinks. But then he thinks of her freckled face, that smile he’d gotten when he described the story, the way she’d gone nose-to-nose with his crazy ideas. After a while, and after he reads everything again, he realizes that she’s right.

He tucks away his pride. He works and works and works, thinking of her raised eyebrows, her little smirk, the whole time. Thinking of her, mostly. It’s three weeks before he’s happy with the draft, but he calls when he’s finished, nervous somehow, to hear her voice again.

“I thought you wouldn’t call,” she says. “I thought maybe… I’d gone a bit overboard with the comments.”

He laughs a little. “Yeah, well… me too, at first. But I think you’re right. About almost everything. Come over?” He’s surprised at how casual his voice sounds, how easy it is to ask her.

“Okay,” she says.

She comes to his apartment bearing coffee and a box of donut holes, stands his doorway looking vulnerable. Apologetic. She’s dressed casually this time—jeans and a maroon sweater. She tilts her chin in an I’m sorry pout as she holds up her offerings.

He smiles. “Come in.”

Wary at first, not sure what to expect, she takes in his apartment: the art on his walls, his leather couch, his fish. She’s surprised at how comfortable the space feels, how she wants to curl up in his cushions, put her feet up, watch a movie with him—though she barely knows this man. A clean, printed manuscript rests on the coffee table. He gestures with his chin. “Take a look.”

She does. Her eyes go wide as she thumbs through the first chapter. “You made the scientist a woman?” She asks.

Mulder nods, chewing his thumbnail. He tries not to hover, sips coffee and chews donut holes instead. She got jelly ones, bless her. When she’s skimmed roughly a third, she sits back and looks up.

“Are they in love?” She asks, cheeks red.

“Maybe,” he says. “I hadn’t thought at first—“

“They should be,” she says, and now his face is red too. “Can I read it all?”

4.

She comes back again. And again. They spend evenings reading, sometimes aloud, her nose wrinkling when something’s not right, talking about the story, and then talking about other things. They watch Plan 9 from Outer Space and he makes her laugh when he recites the lines. He frowns at her unbuttered popcorn. They drink beer and she settles into his cushions. He watches her face while she reads. Watches her lips. She swallows hard when he tells her that there is a love scene.

“So he’s a little roughed up from his escape, and she thought he might have been dead. But then he shows up at her door, and he’s stolen some vials of the vaccine… It’s kind of a reunion, plus they think maybe they’ve won,” he explains.

Her knee is touching his. Denim against denim radiates heat up her leg. Her palms feel hot. “So what does she do?”

Mulder looks at her and there’s a smile in his eyes. He’s chewing his bottom lip. “Well first she yells at him,” he says.

“Hmm. He did do something kind of stupid.”

“He did,” Mulder concedes. “But then… then she kisses him.”

“She does?” Her breath sounds too loud in her ears. His tongue comes out over his lips again.

“Mm hmm.”

The air: so still. Fish tank burbling. Pages between them on the couch. He watches her pupils dilate. She shifts and her knee rubs along his thigh. “Oh,” she says.

And then he’s kissing her, thumbs at her cheeks, taste of coffee on his tongue. Her fingers come around his wrist, feel the pulse point, stroke the fine hairs beneath his watch. She falls. She is falling. She does not land. Somehow she knew. She knew it would be like this with him.

5.

His book does well, so much better than he expected, even gets nominated for a Hugo award.

On Sundays, they lay in bed and read the New York Times Book Review, watching his title climb the list, smelling of sex and tasting of each other. He visits her at work, brings coffee, and vomits into stainless steel basin the first time he watches her use a bone saw. She tries not to smile, rubs his back, brings him a cup of water.

When the paperback edition of the novel comes out, he has a special edition printed just for her. It is Saturday and they are in the park, legs entangled, her head on his shoulder. “I have a surprise,” he says.

He hands her the copy and she frowns because it feels strange, the cover lumpy.

“What?” She asks, but he’s shaking his head.

“Open it.”

She does, giving him that squinty, skeptical eye he’s now so used to. He’s had the dedication page changed. Where it once said, “For Dana who made this book what it is,” it now reads, “For Dana, who makes my life what it is. Will you marry me?” Taped below it is a ring.

She gapes. She almost chokes. She smacks him with the book. “You sap!” She says. But then she is crying and putting on the ring and kissing him.

At their wedding, Charlie is insufferable. He drunkenly tries to take credit for bringing them together, not to mention for the book. They ignore him. They dance.

“Let’s write another one,” Mulder whispers into her hair.

-end-