#it losers headcanon

[trashm0utheds]

rating the Losers and their dancing skills (my personal hc)

1. Mike - pure talent, charmingly and effortlessly moves well with the music, leaves the Losers stunned

2. Eddie - pure talent too, he's very graceful, the rest are surprised by how adorable he looks when he moves his hips to pop songs (cheerleader Eddie YAAAS)

3. Bev - what can't she do?

4. Stan - he may be subtle about it but he's not awkward at all, play a song that he likes and people are shocked with it because wow

5. Ben - adorably awkward and tries his best to keep up with the rhythm, lets Bev guide him in the dance floor

6 and 7. Bill and Richie - cannot dance for shit!!! they'll just tangle their legs with each other's and fall on the floor

[silverameco]

Wolfstar hits harder if Remus isn't conventionally attractive.

Because while Sirius is still deep in denial and internalized homophobia, he's convincing himself like "it's okay, i'm not gay, anyone would want to kiss Remus once in a while, he's just objectively hot"

Except Remus is awkward and quiet when not around friends, he's too tall like he grew up too fast and doesn't know what to do with this extra height, his scars scare people away, he wears grandpa sweaters, drinks tea in his free time and goes to sleep at 9 pm, he can't flirt for the life of him (even though he could bc he's witty and sarcastic) because he has no self-confidence and it shows.

He's basically a loser (affectionate) and Sirius is like "it's okay, no need to panic, he's the sexiest man on earth but that's just an astute observation, no gay thoughts here"

and i just think that's funny as hell

[rooniearts]

some auntie amy content for all you dadow au enjoyers <3 she would do literally anything for that boy

[luvbabydoll]

pervy!loser!simon x sweetheart!naive!reader

cw: pervy behavior from simon !!!

you don’t even know what you did to him, that first day.

standing there, soft and sweet and smiling like you were made just for him.

and now —

now you’re his.

you curl up against him at night without a second thought, nose tucked under his jaw, breathing slow and even.

trusting him with your whole little heart like he’s not a filthy old man who fists his cock over you every time you leave the room.

trusting him like he’s good.

like he’s safe.

simon brushes a hand down your back, heavy and shaking, breathing you in.

you smell like strawberries. like laundry soap. like home.

he presses his nose into your hair and groans low, desperate, quiet enough not to wake you.

grinds his hips against the mattress, slow and pathetic, just enough to take the edge off.

you make a soft sound in your sleep. a whimper.

he freezes.

"shh, baby," he rasps, kissing your forehead, voice thick and ruined from holding it back.

"s’alright. just me. go back to sleep, love."

like he’s not rutting against the bed like a desperate fucking dog with your body curled against him.

like he’s not thinking about rolling you onto your back, splitting you open on his cock, stuffing you full until you’re crying with it.

he won't.

he never would.

you’re too sweet. too soft.

he’s ruined enough just loving you.

he won't drag you down into the filth with him.

still.

he bites his lip hard enough to taste blood, humping the mattress in short, frantic little jerks, his whole body going tight, trying to finish quick so he doesn’t wake you.

he cums like a fucking animal, teeth gritted, hips stuttering, cock throbbing in his boxers while he chokes on your name.

he tucks you closer after.

pretends he’s a good man.

pretends he’s not leaving a sticky patch on the sheets where he held you too tight.

pretends he deserves you.

and you — sweet thing you are — you just sigh in your sleep and nuzzle closer.

like you know.

like you want him anyway.

[lustagel]

౨౿ rodrick who is such a loser, the first time you kissed he moaned into your mouth. his body leaning into yours, his hand sliding around your waist—the movement is so confident you think he’s getting cocky until you hear it, the light sound of satisfaction. you do nothing but smile into his lips before pulling away, “you’re cute.”

now, the loser loves making out with you sitting in his chair. your legs on either side of his hips as your shorts ride up your legs. to center himself like before, his warm hands slide from your hips to your sides, slightly making you shiver. your lips are wet with one another’s spit, both your heads spinning, noses hitting every now and again as you breathe in each other's air.

“rodrick!”

as if nothing has changed, noises slip from his mouth while you taste each other, your hand scratching into the short hair on the back of his head, not making him any better. his hands slide further up until he’s grabbing a handful of your breast but before you can even think about getting the shirt off greg’s voice takes over the room.

“rodrick, mom sa- EW!” the two of you pull away immediately, you look over at greg with a shocked expression while rodrick simply stuffs his face into your chest with a groan. he mumbles something, but it doesn’t reach either of your ears. “i think i’m gonna hurl,” greg says, making exaggerated gagging noises as he begins to leave. “oh my god,” rodrick moans into your chest in aggravation. he lifts his head to shoo greg from the room further, “get out.”

you hear the soles of greg’s feet hit each step as he leaves. rodrick leans back into the chair and you finally get to take a good look at him; his hair messy, his lips almost as pink as his cheeks, the pinkness creeping up his neck a little, lips slightly agape. you can only grin, “you’re really cute.”

[loservillepopulationthirteen]

Damian, entering smog/pollution city Gotham after living in Nanda Parbat his entire life: why am I turning white?

hc that everyone turns white only in gotham bc of the sheer amount of pollution blocking out the sun

Damian thought he was slowly dying at first and also refused to ask for help

Jason, casually crimelording: Damian what are you doing? Damian: Todd. I need help- Jason: what? YOU asking for help?? Are you dying?? Damian: Yes. Look at my skin! Jason: *takes off his helmet out of concern or smthing* Damian, seeing Jason without a tan for the first time: YOU'RE DYING TOO??? Jason: Jason, little shit little brother getting the opportunity to be an annoying shithead older brother: oh yeah did you know-

Damian was actually convinced he was going to die for like a month until he finally cracked and was a little hurt at everyone laughing at him (good thing he has: knife)

[yamsfrecklvs]

mmmm playing seven minutes in heaven with nerdjo and he gets hard just by looking at you as you gaze up at him, doe-eyed, and he could swear that you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. his breath hitches when you inch closer and he doesn’t know what to do because he’s never been more turned on in his whole life and god he wants you. when your lips are on his, he wastes to time - his hands are roaming over your body, tongues meeting sloppily, your hands through his silky, snowy locks. every fiber of his being feels electric because of your touch, his glasses fogging up as you two make out. the second your hand grazes his chest, the other one slightly tugging on his hair, you can feel him pant on your lips - it takes so little to work him up, and as your fingers slowly trail down onto his stomach, satoru swears he can’t take it anymore. in fact, he doesn’t - he tries to pull away as he whines into your mouth.

embarrassingly loud and oh so sweetly pathetic.

you soon realize that making out with you alone was enough to make him cum. he looks down at you, his pretty sapphire eyes mortified, cheeks flushed and glasses crooked on his nose, as an amused grin creeps up on your lips. yes, this was satisfying - but it’s not nearly enough.

looks like you and satoru are going to be needing way more than seven minutes.

@yamsfrecklvs - this is not proofread i just needed a break from studying

[rxmye]

" 𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 "

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐂𝐊 — a confident athlete who turns into pathetic putty at the thought of you . . .

nsfw / sixteen + content / smut / gender neutral reader / yandere content / sub!yandere / masturbation / pervert yandere (he literally breaks into the locker room for your shit) / olfactophilia/osmolagnia (scent/smell kink) / dacryphilia (kink for crying) / breath play / yandere oc x reader

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: haven't wrote smut in awhile, so im a bit rusty . . .

Lucas dangled the keys in his hands, a grin playing on his face as he walked towards the locker room—using the key to unlock the door—it was pretty easy grabbing the keys from the janitor's room, not that this school was particularly secure with their locks. It would be pretty easy breaking in, if he tried hard enough . . 

Lucas scanned the area, looking through each locker trying to find which one was yours . . he had your lock combination memorized, though he did get a little help from a friend in order to figure it out.

His hands reached for the clothes that you had left in your locker, lifting it up to his face, eyes going half lidded as he inhaled your intoxicating scent, he felt his face growing warm and his body growing weak. Lucas leaned down onto the lockers for support, almost losing balance as he slid down onto the floor.

Lucas pressed the flimsy piece of clothing further onto his face, engulfing himself in your smell—so much so that he could almost taste you—all the while his other hand travelled downwards, clumsily unbuckling his pants in a hurry . . hasty movements contradicted his rational mind, not bothering to care if he'd get caught.

He slid his pants down, just enough to reveal his semi-hard cock—a soft whine escaped him at the feeling of the cold air—his free hand now teasing his tip, as he relaxed his body, closing his eyes shut . .—imagining how disgusted you'd be seeing him in this pitiful state— . . that really turned him on, he cussed under his breath at how pitiful and pathetic his thoughts were . .

Lucas wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, slowly moving his hand up and down—his vision growing hazy—as he let out breathy sighs of pleasure—whines growing louder when he moved his hand faster.

Lucas stuffed the clothing he took, and pushed it into his mouth—drool escaped the corners of his mouth—blocking his ability make a sound, as he moved his hand faster around his cock—little tear droplets stinging his eyes, as he felt his legs shake slightly at the sheer pleasure—he used his now free hand to pinch his nose, closing his only source of air . . .

All he could taste was you, the clothing taking away all the moisture in his mouth, as tears begin to escape his eyes, saliva escaping the corners of his mouth, dripping onto his clothing—his legs began to convulse—his back arching slightly, as he finally came, all over the floor . . .

Lucas spat out the fabric, "fuck", the bell rang . . How is he gonna clean up this mess fast enough? . .

want more, buy my limited time only advent calendar?

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[baepsays]

Gojo Satoru sees you for the first time at a mutual friend's party—and immediately his eyes get stuck on you. the entire time he's watching you drink leisurely at the end of the couch, and roll your eyes at the dude bros attempting to flirt with you, while you ignored them.

after 40 mins of staring, he comes up to you and shoves the guy —pathetically trying to get you to sleep with him— off the armrest of the couch you're sitting on. Satoru just ignores the guy shouting at him and and throwing a fit on the floor. he takes a seat on the armrest instead and looks you dead in the eyes, and goes;

"you look like someone who thinks men ain't shit and would probably make a face that alone would make me cry."

you raise one of your eyebrows at him just a bit amused. confused whether he was trying to pick a fight or what else was he trying at. he goes on and continues what he was saying;

"so please fuck me."

.

.

a/n: divider by @/enchanthings-a. to access more of my works-click here.

[cathnospam]

Loser Bakugo’s a shy kisser

He’s confident in everything he does, BUT when it’s involving intimacy with you? He’s a whole different guy, and it’s cute, because he doesn’t realize it.

You’re always the one initiating kisses, hand holding, you both haven’t had sex yet, but you already know it’s only a matter of time where you’ll talk to him about it.

Bakugo never notices his attitude change either, he’s usually so loud and cocky with anything else; winning a video game with you, homework, even sparring, but right now he’s as quiet as Deku.

Nerd.

His palms are getting damper gripping your bare thighs, though you don’t mind it your blondie sure as hell hates it.

“Shit.” He pulls away from your pecks around his lips, to reach over his thrown t-shirt and dry his hands, “Fuckin’ sweating again.”

“It’s okay.” Your voice gives him a bit of reassurance, “I don’t mind it, boo.” A nickname he practically melts in your embrace when you call him that, his cheeks grow redder as he looks up at you, he lets you continue kissing his face until you reach his lips and that’s when he begins to stiffen.

Bakugo’s lips are in a fine line, not on purpose, and you know it, it’s kind of like a jar top that won’t open just yet, you have to losen it a bit, giggling in between kisses you rub his chest all the way up to his neck, “Relax for me, please.”

His body slouches back in his headboard, almost feeling relief he didn’t know he had. You take his hands and place them on the bottom of your ass, “Look at me.”

His eyebrows were pinched as if he were angry, but his pupils dilated at you, “You’re so pretty.”

“Tch…I hate when you call me that.”

“Mmhm.” You punctuate your hums with a kiss to his nose, back down to his soft mouth, your hips began to rolls against him, a small whimper gets caught in his throat, but you swallow it, inviting your own tongue to invade his space.

Bakugo’s hands guided your body to rock back and fourth, you clothed cunt was so warm and plush against his crotch it was only a matter of time before he got rock hard, but it’s not like you would’ve cared.

Your presence was one of the very rare things that overwhelmed him, but he welcomed it. His mind was blank, but his body was shaking as if he had a jumbled up thoughts, practically moving on its own to feel more of you, the bed below began to creak.

Heavy breathing was exchanged between you both, you held the back of his head, nails scratching his scalp that made him groan into you, the kisses became sloppy on his end, it wasn’t his fault your tongue felt good sliding against his he started sucking on it himself.

Eventually though, you both needed air.

When you pull back his face and ears were coated red as his eyes, hair puffier than usual and a spit trait falling off his cheek, you giggle wiping it off with your thumb, making him feel some embarrassment, “Shut up.”

“You’re a good kisser.”

“I know I am I’m good at everything.”

“Yeah okay…” You roll your eyes to lay beside him, trying to his ignore the oh so clear and huge bulge he had in his pants, he couldn’t though.

Bakugo immediately headed to the bathroom without word and turned on the shower, he couldn’t bare you hearing him fist his own dick on the toilet…even though it was COMPLETELY your fault.

Hope you don’t mind being his jack off material for the next few minutes, your moans in his ear replayed in his mind.

Wouldn’t be the first time though.

[machveil]

Loser!Simon Riley dating you - you’re his first significant other ever. he’s not great about expressing himself, not wanting to come off as too clingy or needy. he wants to be helpful so he ends up following you around - the first time he came over to your place he almost followed you into the bathroom

Loser!Simon Riley that holds anything you give him - he will not let go of it until you comment on it. you hand him a pan in the kitchen? well, you didn’t say if you wanted it on the stove, in a cupboard, the sink… so he’ll just hold it. grip a little too tight, knuckles almost white as he waits for you to give him instructions. when you look back at him and smile his knees go weak, “Oh, sorry— you can put it on the stove, Simon.”

Loser!Simon Riley that gets most of his dating advice from Johnny. Simon taking his advice literally, not interrupting it any other way. Johnny absentmindedly saying that he should help you into the passenger seat - but he walks off before Simon can ask for clarification. Johnny had meant simply opening the door for you, and Simon does that… he also lifts you up and sits you down, buckling you up before closing the door

Loser!Simon Riley’s brain turning to mush when you touch him. he doesn’t initiate touch for a couple weeks because he doesn’t know what to do - hold your hand? rest an arm around your shoulders? put a hand on the small of your back? the first time he does anything it’s barely noticeable. sitting at a restaurant together, your hand resting on the table as you talk. he’s sweating bullets as he silently puts his hand on the table, his pinky finger resting over yours

[gyuuberryy]

no doubt !

loser!enhypen's reaction to your confession + their down bad behaviour

genre: completely fluff, slight crack

warnings: self doubt, very little stuttering

note: live, laugh, love hot loser men

word count: 2.3k

i love reading your comments and reblogs, so please do so if you liked reading this<3

HEESEUNG

heeseung was the guy who always sat in the back of the library, oversized hoodie pulled up and earbuds blasting lo-fi playlists. not because he was trying to look cool and aloof—he just didn’t know how to talk to people. heeseung’s whole vibe screamed ‘leave me alone’, and yet, you were drawn to him. maybe it was the way his big glasses always slid down his nose or how he’d stammer when the librarian asked if he needed help. there was a sweetness to his awkwardness, a genuine quality that made him stand out(not to mention how devastatingly handsome he was).

you started leaving him little sticky notes on the library desk when he wasn’t looking, simple messages like “nice doodles!” or “your handwriting is cute<3” the day he caught you in the act, his face turned the color of a ripe tomato.

“you think my handwriting’s c-cute?” he stuttered, practically vibrating with nervous energy.

a bit nervous, you laughed and nodded. “yeah, i do. and i think you’re cute too.”

heeseung froze, his pen dropping to the table. “wait, you… you think i’m cute?” he sounded so disbelieving it was almost funny.

when you confessed that you liked him, he spent two weeks in disbelief, constantly asking if you were joking. but after you assured him that no, you weren’t pulling some cruel prank, he became utterly devoted. he’d text you good morning every day, walk you to your classes while carrying your books (even when you insisted you could manage), and write you poetry—the kind of cringe, over-the-top poetry that made your heart melt anyway.

heeseung was the kind of boyfriend who’d get embarrassingly jealous but try to hide it. if someone so much as glanced at you for too long, he’d fidget nervously and mumble something about how they were probably just admiring how amazing you were. and if you hugged him in public? forget it. he’d be grinning like an idiot for the rest of the day.

when he wasn’t nervously doting on you, he was daydreaming about your future together. he’d scribble little sketches of the two of you in his notebook, complete with hearts and statements like “me + you = forever.” if you teased him about it, he’d turn beet red and try to deny it, but you could see the tiny smile playing on his lips.

rest is under the cut!

JAY

jay was the guy in your science class who thought he could blend in by keeping his head down. what he didn’t realize was that his nervous habits were endearing: the way he’d mumble answers to himself during group work or adjust his glasses every 30 seconds. he was always sketching random diagrams in his notebook—half for class, half because he was too awkward to make conversation.

you had a crush on him because, despite his shyness, there was something magnetic about the way he focused—his brows furrowing as he sketched diagrams in his notebook, the faintest pout forming on his lips when he was deep in concentration. one time, you caught him organizing the classroom supplies, his long fingers deftly sorting through tape dispensers and markers while muttering something about order.

when you mentioned you liked him, jay blinked at you like he couldn’t comprehend the words. “me? like me, me?” he asked, pointing to himself.

you nodded, trying not to giggle at how wide his eyes had gotten. “yes, you. i think you’re really sweet.”

jay’s face turned a deep shade of red, and he immediately started rambling. “i mean, i… uh, wow, okay, i didn’t expect this. are you sure? like, really sure? because i’m kind of a mess, and—”

once it clicked, though, he was all in. he’d send you paragraphs of text apologizing if he thought he said something wrong, shower you with small, thoughtful gifts (like your favorite snacks or a plant he’d researched how to care for), and eventually worked up the courage to hold your hand—though he’d sweat buckets the entire time.

jay would also start making lists—actual, physical lists—of things he could do to make you happy. “compliment her at least once a day,” “remember her favorite coffee order!,” and “learn how to not be a complete dork >:(” were scrawled on a sticky note tucked into his notebook. and when he wasn’t nervously doting on you, he was daydreaming about you, doodling your initials in the margins of his notes.

very soon, he was down-bad for you, which was evident through his real life and his social media activities. he’d post the cheesiest captions about you, like “can’t believe i’m dating the most amazing person in the world” with a blurry photo of the two of you. his friends teased him mercilessly, but he didn’t care. to him, you were worth every bit of embarrassment. late at night, he’d re-read your old texts and smile like an idiot, convinced he was the luckiest person alive.

JAKE

jake was a lovable mess. he wore mismatched socks, always seemed to forget his pencil, and somehow managed to trip over air at least once a day. his “plan” to talk to you involved him awkwardly hovering near your desk and pretending to need help with math problems he already knew how to solve. you knew from the start he was a bit of a loser—but that’s exactly why you liked him along with you finding everything he did adorable.

“wait, wait,” he said when you told him you were into him. “you like me? like, romantically? or is this a ‘pity me’ situation?”

after realizing you genuinely liked him, jake became a golden retriever in human form. he’d facetime you at random hours just to say hi, take you on chaotic “dates” that involved him occasionally tripping over things in public, nervously ordering food for you both and all silly fun activities like arcade games and amusement parks. it was never a dull day with him! after your first kiss, he couldn’t stop grinning for hours, texting his friends in all caps: “GUYS I JUST KISSED THE LOVE OF MY LIFE AAHJKHSSSK”

jake’s down-bad behavior reached new levels when he started making playlists for every possible mood you might have: “songs to cheer you up,” “songs that remind me of you<3,” and even “songs to study to (but only if you want to study with me):3” he’d even text you mid-class to tell you he missed you, even if you’d just seen each other that morning.

jake was also the kind of boyfriend who’d insist on carrying your bag even when it was clear it was too heavy for him. “i’ve got this!” he’d say, wincing slightly but refusing to let you take it back. and if you ever mentioned feeling sad or stressed, he’d immediately panic, asking, “what can i do? tell me, and i’ll do it!” he’d even write you little notes with nerdy jokes or doodles to make you smile, slipping them into your locker or bag for you to find later.

SUNGHOON

sunghoon thought he was slick, but his ‘cool guy’ act was so transparent it was almost cute. he’d lean against the lockers during breaks, pretending not to notice you, but the way his ears turned red every time you walked by gave him away. despite his awkward attempts at being aloof, you found his loser tendencies adorable: like how he’d secretly google pickup lines but chicken out before using them.

when you confessed your feelings, he genuinely choked. “wait, you like me? oh wow… you have bad- I MEAN great taste ahem.” he spent a solid week trying to act nonchalant, but once you started dating, his loser side came out full force. he’d ask you to “rate his outfits” before dates, send you selfies captioned “just thinking about you bbg,” and blush furiously every time you complimented him. sunghoon may have tried to act smooth, but deep down, he was utterly whipped.

sunghoon would also start practicing ways to compliment you in the mirror—only to mess it up completely when the time came. “y-you look… uh, very… beautiful? no, wait, gorgeous! that’s the word i meant!” and everytime you smiled at him, he’d be texting his friends, “she smiled at me again!!!!! i’m gonna pass out.”

his devotion extended to doing the smallest things for you, like bringing you your favorite drink or snacks without you asking. he’d even memorise your schedule so he could “accidentally” bump into you between classes, claiming it was coincidence even though the timing was suspiciously perfect. at night, he’d lay awake replaying your conversations, smiling at the ceiling like the lovesick fool he was.

SUNOO

you had noticed sunoo always sitting at the edge of friend groups, laughing along but never quite joining in. he was bubbly and fun but had an air of self-doubt that made him endearing. you started noticing how he’d always bring extra snacks to share with classmates or go out of his way to compliment people—little acts of kindness that made your heart flutter. not to mention his angelic beauty, that had you look twice the first time you had seen him standing near the water cooler awkwardly.

it was hard not to develop a crush and when you told sunoo you liked him, he’d blink in disbelief. “no way. you’re joking, right?” but after realising you were serious, he’d giggle nervously and hide his face in his hands. once you started dating, he became the most attentive boyfriend ever, remembering every small detail about you and hyping you up like you were the main character. he’d also send you cheesy tiktoks at 2 a.m. with captions like, “this is so us babe ><”

sunoo was head over heels for you, the literal epitome of “she fell first but he fell harder”. he did adorable things like creating a secret pinterest board filled with date ideas and texting you pictures of cute animals with captions like, “look, it’s us in 50 years!” he also started learning how to bake just so he could surprise you with your favorite treats—though most of his attempts ended in chaotic, flour-covered disasters.

if you ever seemed upset, sunoo would go into full panic mode, showering you with compliments and doing everything in his power to cheer you up. “you’re the most amazing person i’ve ever met,” he’d say earnestly, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. he even kept a list on his phone of all the things you’d mentioned liking, just so he could surprise you when you least expected it.

JUNGWON

jungwon was the class president who seemed to have it all together—but his close friends knew better. he was the guy who’d trip over his words during speeches, carry five planners because he kept losing them, and stress over things like forgetting to bring tape for a poster project. you liked him because, despite his loser-ish tendencies, he had a heart of gold and worked hard to make everyone feel included.

when you told him you had a crush on him, jungwon’s first reaction was to nervously laugh. “wait, me? are you sure? why would you do that to yourself!?” once he accepted that you really liked him, he became the sweetest boyfriend imaginable. he’d plan thoughtful dates (that inevitably went slightly wrong but ended up being more fun because of it), leave you encouraging notes in your locker, and get adorably flustered every time you kissed him.

jungwon also started creating “motivational speeches” for you, writing them out on notecards and practicing in the mirror before giving them. “i believe in you,” he’d say earnestly, fumbling to hand you a little note that said, “you’re amazing, and don’t you forget it.” if you teased him about it, he’d bury his face in his hands and mumble, “stop, you’re embarrassing me…”

his love didn’t stop there. he’d stay up late researching ways to make your life easier, like creating color-coded study guides or finding fun new spots to take you on dates. and if anyone dared to speak poorly of you, jungwon would step up, surprising everyone with his sudden fierceness. “they don’t know what they’re talking about,” he’d say, his tone protective and unwavering.

NI-KI

ni-ki was the quiet gamer boy who’d rather blend into the background than be noticed. he wore the same hoodie every other day and constantly had earbuds in, even when they weren’t playing anything. you liked him because of how unpretentious he was—and how his eyes lit up whenever he talked about something he loved, like a new game or a random meme he found hilarious.

when you told him you were into him, ni-ki almost dropped his controller. his eyes narrowed into a glare, “are you sure you’re not messing with me? did jake tell you about my crush?” after he realised what he had said, he immediately scampered away leaving you standing there confused. once he got over his initial shock, he became your biggest simp. he’d send you memes that reminded him of you, let you beat him at games (even though he’d deny it), and randomly text you “you’re so pretty” at the most unexpected times. around his friends, he’d brag about you non-stop, showing off pictures of you with a proud grin.

once he was down bad for you, he became hell bent on learning how to cook your favorite meals—even though he’d never cooked before in his life. “how hard can it be?” he’d say, only to panic five minutes in and call you for help. he also started staying up late to design matching gamer tags for the two of you, insisting that everyone online needed to know you were his.

in quiet moments, ni-ki would open up about how much you meant to him, his voice soft and a little shaky. “i don’t know what i did to deserve you, but i’m not letting go.” and if you ever showed up to surprise him during his gaming sessions, he’d immediately log off, saying, “sorry, guys, my priority is here,” as he turned his full attention to you.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

taglist: @soobnuuy @senascoooop @moafloribunda @lunalovesstories

@firstclassjaylee @levandright @fancypeacepersona @mirouie

@gaonashi @firstclassjaylee @kkamismom12 @evandsolo

[edenspoem]

i wanna ride ellie’s little nose :((

hearing her soft whimpers as I fuck her nose up

note: alright, since this little post i made sparked up some conversation, i will tap some actual content out of it! mdni. college au. loser!ellie. join the discord! | kofi

𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬: 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐞

ellie isn't so practiced to being in this position; her heart is fucking pounding. not a lithe beat, or a pitter-pattering across the flesh—you can feel it through your thighs curled around her arms. you can see it in her blown eyes, trembling, and thickened with those pupils staring up at you. the indents of her fingertips sharpening into your legs, tattooed wrist constricted—restless. she hates this little interlude you subject her to. you're fondling her fragile trigger when you're sat a mere inch above her pretty lips, wet and glistening; who could blame her for getting so riled up?

impatience drags her fingers over your ass. it gets gripped gently. “thought you weren't being serious,” she states through a laugh—a breathless one. “but, i should know better, right?” her laughs hit that damned sweet spot in you that gets you going.

you tug a couple more out with a tip-tap on that precious nose. “mhm.” and then, those fingers end their frolic in her hair, forming a firm grip. it tugs a different sound out of her. a captured whimper. she is starving, and cannot mouth an actual word to soothe or substantiate it. ellie—two steps ahead of her motions—is already thinking about her lips on your cunt.

you position your slit on her available tongue, and she moans like she met heaven. a long, loose-lipped moan of satisfaction. something of a curving, “mmhhh..” and a brow-pull to go along with it; your scent, taste, and pushing of her face into your grinding hips hit all the right wires. now, she cannot let go. you shift your hip one route, and she follows with hungered licks. groping her breasts, you encourage that wanton behaviour.

“good fuckin girl, el.”

she gives your ass a delicate slap in admission. subconscious admission.

all that movement creates a cathedral of pornographics sounds. ellie, whoring her face out for you, lets nothing go to waste past her chin. she bobs her head, attempting to steal more laps of you, but ends up with the head of her nose prodding your clit each time. it sends a coiling through your pelvis, agreements up your throat, “fuck—such a pretty little nose your parents gave you..” and gives you the idea to continue. “you like it when i fuck it, huh?” fucking the tip of it, until it folds up and pre-cum begins to line it. inside, outside. it's perfect position is a practical beg for you to spread your legs and sit on it. ride it like she doesn't know what she's doing (which—contrary to what bigots in her college circulate online—she knows how to fuckin' eat pussy; don't get her wrong.) she knows now—she won't be able to rid it from her mind for weeks; the poor girl has to dangle from memories considering how little she sees you. what, with astrophysics and all? it's pitiful enough watching her touch herself to it—touch herself to the feeling of eating you out.

you chew your resting lip and almost draw blood noticing: the bulge of a free hand in her jeans, gentle touching below the seam. then, on it comes. the repeated whining—moaning like she's the one getting fucked. all it takes is for you to tilt her head, tug her eyes out from under you—and it blows out. the sight of her red, fucked-out, rubbed-against and wet face makes you cum.

how could it not?

“that was.. actually pretty hot,” ellie would blurt, after it had happened. after she had tugged herself enough to cum. regardless, she still had a couple laughs left in her system, and urged against her ribs to get them out while the patron of her affection was still in her presence—still on her doorstep. she would rather you be more than just a hookup. “i'm so fuckin' stupid about you, it's a little embarassing.” the door frame quietly settled with her leaning on it. “uh, you free tomorrow?”

[curiouslymyown]

Nerdy loser Remus Lupin who somehow became best friends with the three most popular guys at Hogwarts, only to learn that they are also losers

[girlrotterr]

— "𝘚𝛨𝛦'𝘚 𝑇𝛨𝐼𝛮𝛫𝐼𝛮𝐺 𝛢𝛣𐒆𝑈𝑇 𝛭𝛦 𝛦𝑉𝛦𝑅𝑌 𝛮𝐼𝐺𝛨𝑇, 𐒆𝛨!"

𝑃𝛢𝐼𝑅𝐼𝛮𝐺: loser!ellie x stripper!reader

𝘚𝑌𝛮𐒆𝑃𝘚𝐼𝘚: loser!ellie headcanons!

𝛢/𝛮: first attempt at headcanons!! soo this may be a little jumbled but I absolutely loved making this!!

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who swears it’s the last time she’s coming to see you because she can’t risk embarrassing herself again. But the moment she remembers the rhythm of your body, her mind drifts, and suddenly she’s back at the club, dollar in hand, cheeks warm as she recalls the tiny, breathless “Hello..” she squeaked out the last time. Before she knows it, she’s there again, telling herself it’s just one more time.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who’s made herself a regular at the club, nervously occupying the same table every night, hoping for just a glimpse of you. But her dorkiness draws attention; other dancers lean over, offering her dances with winks and playful smiles. She goes stiff, almost panicking, stuttering, “Oh, no—I mean, no, thank you,” glancing toward the stage, desperate for you to see that she’s loyal to one person only. “Come on, sweetheart, it’s just one dance.” Too polite to shut them down, she mumbles, “I, um…no, sorry,” rubbing the back of her neck and avoiding eye contact like her life depends on it. “I’m, like… kinda into someone already,” her voice is so quiet that the other dancers smirk, teasing her about her crush. She turns bright red, waving them off, mumbling, “It’s…not like that,” even as her eyes drift to the stage. 

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who can’t help but stare when you’re on stage, entranced by every movement, forgetting herself so completely that she grips the edge of her seat, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. The second you look her way, though, her cheeks flush crimson, and she fumbles over her drink, trying to play it cool, but you see it—the way she’s completely, hopelessly hooked on you.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie whenever she thinks she’ll act smooth next time, she ends up a flustered mess. Her hand trembles midair as she finally gathers the courage to slip a dollar between your thong; the moment their fingers brush, her eyes go wide, and she swears her heart might actually stop.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who tries to mutter something cool under her breath, like “you’re so sexy,” but it comes out so soft and awkward that you have to lean in to hear her. Your knowing smile makes her cheeks heat up even more. 

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who barely finishes her shift at her part-time job before she’s rushing to her phone, pulling up her bank app to see if her paycheck hit. The second she sees it’s in, she’s already thinking about all the ways she can spend it on you. She might be broke for the next two weeks, but the thought of seeing your face light up is enough to keep her going.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie hyping herself up by imagining what she’ll surprise you with next. The moment her shift’s over, she’s browsing for little things you’d love: those fancy earrings you mentioned once, a necklace she thinks would look perfect on you, or that one bottle of perfume she remembers you ran out of. By the time she’s done, she’s practically holding an empty wallet, but she doesn’t even care.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who shows up at the club with a nervous grin and a freshly wrapped gift just for you, stuffed in a little paper bag she decorated herself to save money. She’s a bit embarrassed handing it to you, mumbling, “It’s nothing fancy,” but her heart’s racing as she watches you unwrap it. Every time you gasp or smile, her face lights up even brighter, totally worth every last cent.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who sits at home counting change, literally living off instant ramen, but with zero regrets because she already spent her last dollars on that pair of heels you were obsessing over. She pictures you wearing them, looking absolutely incredible, and can’t wait for your next dance. Even though she’s practically starving, she figures seeing you in them will more than make up for it.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who can’t even afford the gas to drive herself home but still manages to slip a folded bill to you at the club, the look on her face a mixture of pride and shyness as she mutters, “Just…y’know, for you.” It’s her last dollar, but when you smile and lean in to thank her, she’s practically glowing, whispering to herself that she’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who hypes herself up to ask you out after your shift, but when she sees you coming her way, her mind goes blank. “You’re, like… really good at…” she blurts out, regretting it the instant it leaves her lips. Blushing hard, she watches you raise a brow, her heart racing as she shuffles awkwardly on the spot. But when you smile at her, she’s secretly thrilled.

⋆⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie dresses in a rotation of baggy jeans that hang a little low on her hips, with boxers peeking out and a series of painfully awkward T-shirts proclaiming phrases like “Raw Sex” or “Big Dick Is Back In Town” in bold, obnoxious letters. She strolls in with her half-tucked T-shirt, completely unaware of how ridiculous she looks, thinking they make her seem cool.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who tries to keep her composure as you eye her stupid shirt, but the blush creeping up her neck gives her away. She fumbles, wishing she’d worn anything else, but it’s too late. You lean in, whispering, “Nice shirt,” and Ellie is left a red-faced mess, speechless, trying to figure out if you’re making fun of her or if you actually think it’s… well, nice. “It was laundry day…” She fidgets nervously with the hem of her shirt, tugging it down to cover the waistband of her jeans, as if you won’t notice the bold letters across her chest.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who goes completely stiff when you slide onto her lap, her eyes wide as she tries to figure out where to put her hands without losing her mind. Her palms are already clammy, and she stares up at you, clearly overwhelmed, the tips of her fingers hovering, barely daring to graze you. As you lean closer, brushing your chest against her, she bites her lip to keep from making a sound, her breath catching. When you take her hand and guide it to your waist, she’s sure you can feel her fingers trembling, cold against your skin. You whisper something teasing in her ear, and she’s suddenly even more nervous, her pulse racing as she clings to your words.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who’s a flustered, shaky mess when her fingertips brush the soft skin , cheeks flushed red as she tries to avoid looking too overwhelmed. You can feel her hands flex slightly, as if she’s afraid to grip you too tightly and ruin the moment. Every little movement from you has her body tensing, her fingers trailing tentatively over you, and the way she’s practically holding her breath gives her away. When her fingers graze your ass, she flinches, almost pulling back, but your playful smile makes her stay put.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie whose cheeks are flushed, and she can barely make eye contact, her voice a hoarse whisper as she mumbles, “I—I don’t usually… um..” When you rest your hands on her shoulders, guiding her hands more firmly around you, her fingertips sink into your waist, icy and shaky. She tries to lean in like she knows what she’s doing, only for you to kiss her neck, leaving her a quivering mess. She tilts her head back, giving you full access, her breath hitching audibly, and she prays you don’t tease her about it. But you do, whispering against her ear, making her shift in her seat as her face flushes an even deeper shade of pink, almost whining in response.

[cameronsbabydoll]

pervy!loser!rafe headcanons

rafe gets weird about you real fast. like not just "i wanna fuck her" but "i need her or i'll die" levels of obsession. thinks about kidnapping you when he’s high. imagines you tied to his bed in his shitty frat house, crying but still looking pretty, still his.

he watches you sleep sometimes. not even by accident. like you fall asleep on the couch at a party, curled up in a hoodie, and he just sits there staring. hard the whole time. thinking about sneaking his hand between your legs and seeing if you’re wet even in your dreams.

he follows you home after parties. parks down the street. jerks off in the backseat of his truck while he watches the lights go off in your bedroom. says your name under his breath while he cums all over his hand.

steals gross little things from you. a chapstick. a sock. a hair tie you left behind. keeps them in a drawer in his room like trophies. sometimes puts them under his pillow at night and humps the mattress like a desperate, sick puppy.

tries to gaslight you into thinking you’re into him. like corners you at a party and murmurs, "don’t gotta be shy, baby. i see the way you look at me. fuck, you’re makin' me crazy, playin’ hard to get like that. just let me have it, i’ll take good care of u, promise."

fantasizes about breaking you in. not even gently. wants you sobbing, trembling, clinging to him because you’re scared and too sweet to tell him no. thinks about stuffing your mouth full of his fingers so you can't say anything when he ruins you.

leaves bruises on you on purpose. little ones. grips your wrist too tight when he’s drunk and giggling. presses his fingers into your hips when he hugs you goodbye. stares at the marks later and jerks off to the memory, thinking, "mine, fuck, she's mine now."

goes crazy if he sees another guy even look at you. literally loses it. might grab you by the back of your neck at a party and whisper all nasty, possessive shit like, "who's fuckin' girl are you, huh? better fuckin' say it before i make a scene, baby. better say it now."

talks about you like you’re already dating when you're not. calls you "my girl" to his friends. posts blurry pictures of you on his story without tagging you. writes your name on his desk during lectures like a psycho.

secretly dreams about knocking you up. about trapping you. about you getting full with his kid and crying and begging him to take care of you. and he would. he’d be so sickly sweet while he rubbed your belly, whispering about how he’s gonna take care of you forever, how you're never getting away now.

rafe doesn’t just want you. he needs you like a drug. gets shaky and sick without you. thinks about taking you every night, pressing a pillow over your face to muffle your cries while he pushes in raw, whispering, "shhh, it's okay, baby, it’s just me, just makin’ you mine."

fantasizes about catching you drunk and sleepy at a party, scooping you up like a doll, carrying you upstairs and locking the door behind him. stripping you clumsy and rough while you whimper and twitch.

he wouldn’t even wait. he’d be huffing, panting, stuffing himself inside you while you begged him to stop, too high and weak to fight.

he gets hard at the idea of you crying. like not just crying — sobbing, hiccuping, clutching at his shoulders while he fucks you through it. it makes him crazy, makes him kiss your wet cheeks and coo, "feels good, huh? see, baby, your pussy knows who owns it."

he doesn’t use a condom. never would. never even thinks about it. in his sick little brain, you belong to him, and that means filling you up. stuffing you full until you're dripping down your thighs, knocked up, ruined for anyone else.

he presses his hand over your stomach after he cums inside you, panting into your hair, whispering, "gonna get you pregnant. fuckin' breed you like you’re supposed to be. nobody’s ever gonna touch you but me."

he says it over and over until you stop fighting. until you start crying softer. until you just lay there and let him do it again.

would tie you to his bed if he had to. wrist and ankle. keep you there for days. bring you water, kiss your forehead, tell you how good you’re being while he uses your pussy like it’s his personal toy.

gets mad when you cry too much. like after the third or fourth time he’s cum inside you and you’re still sobbing and begging for your mommy or daddy.

grabs your chin rough and growls, "nah, baby, you ain’t got a daddy anymore. you’re mine. i’m the only one that’s gonna take care of you now."

he records it. keeps videos of you broken and shaking and begging. watches them when he’s lonely. jerks off to them with tears in his eyes, swearing he loves you, that it’s real, that you’ll love him back eventually.

in his mind, this isn’t rape. it’s destiny. it’s love. you were just too stupid to see it. but that’s okay. he’ll fix you. he’ll make you understand!!