#wallows! reader

[nobitchs-world]

What people think I mean when I say I like white boys:

What I actually mean:

[nolovelingers]

TELL ME YOU DONT FEEL IT ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ wes hicks !!

⋆ ★ wes has had a crush on you since what feels like the beginning of time and he’s finally determined on getting you to tell him whether the feelings are reciprocated or not. — short blurb !!

cw ᝰ.ᐟ sfw ,, talk of weed ,, readers high ,, fluff

dancing under the florescent night sky of the moon, a deep blue tarp with an array of stars scattered in groups like white paint on a canvas as laughter beamed from the depth of your body resided you and wes hicks.

a bittersweet feeling harmonized along with the two of you as you swayed to your own rhythm, not a single worry or doubt making itself present in your mind as you gave your thoughts away to the buzzing sensation vibrating all through you.

the 5’8 male had not been there initially to witness the intaking of a blunt rotation you shared between few friends, but he was quick to head over the second you asked.

there was worry that struck through his body at first as he picked up your call after only two rings, a small panic at seeing your name on his phone at such late hours of the night and it wasn’t until he heard you speak the protectiveness that ran through his veins settled only after a short explanation.

you had asked him to come and walk you back home, worried to do so alone and not in the sober mindset.

he rushed over as soon as he could, leading up to the present moment as you laughed away the cruelty of the world, stumbling just slightly as you skipped and danced without song.

“spin me!” you requested, and the hicks boy felt blood rush up to his face at the sudden odd request, your fingers reaching for his in a cupping motion.

complying with an awkward smile he lifted his arm, twirling you around and watching the way your clothes blew along with the direction of the wind, outlining the figure of your body that was just beautiful in his eyes. “how much did you have?” he mindlessly questioned, laughter threatening to poor from between his bubblegum pink tinted lips as he watched you with an intent gaze. his attention was solely on you and he was met with a shrug of your shoulders.

“why, did you wanna hit?” you didn’t even have to ask before you felt the pending answer, flipping your body around and walking backwards as you continued holding onto his slim fingers with your own.

“uhh, no, i don’t smoke.” he glanced at your hand that was still wrapped around his with a lingering look in his eyes that you were fast to mistake for him being uncomfortable, letting go of his hand and not noticing the slightly disappointed emotion rupturing over his features as he nervously looked at the pavement below the two of you.

you smiled, his response turning out exactly as you expected while continuing to walk the wrong way forward. wes eyes you carefully, prepared to shoot his arms out and catch you at the chance you fell. “i know. you’re a little mamas boy. it’s cute though, i really admire that.” there was nothing but genuineness in your voice as you spoke and the bleach-haired boy felt the need to turn his head away in a daze of embarrassment, the feeling of a rosy tint creeping over his fair skin.

there’s silence for a moment and he clears his throat, sticking his hands in the pockets of his grey-washed jeans and opting to try and switch the topic away from him. “how you feeling?” softly and with genuine concern in his ocean-blue eyes he met your vision with his, a light-hearted smile twitching the corners of just one side of his mouth up slightly.

“amazing,” you’re quick to answer him, finally flipping your body the right way round. “i feel like im one with the environment!” you giggle, so much intense passion evident in your voice while you announced your mindset to the boy; who’s blonde hair was breezing into patches with the wind, his dark brown roots becoming even more apparent.

wes watches you with a certain intensity of emotion in his eyes. like a mother watching her kid say their first words, or a doctor witnessing their patient start to walk again after being paralyzed for years.

he grins, keeping his head turned as he breaks his gaze away from you. you’re able to see the point of his canines clearly as he stays faced away, and suddenly you’re switching roles, finding yourself unable to look away from him.

you had never really seen him in this light before. not literally, the dark nightfall dimming his face; making his skin look smoother than it ever has, his jaw seemed to pop more, or maybe he was just clenching it, the yellow hue of lamplights coming and going as you walk down the concrete along with him and back to the neighborhood you both have been living in since you could open your eyes.

you had seen wes almost every day of your life. walking to school together, all the days you hung out, sharing classes and even carpooling with each others parent every once in a while.

but you had never really seen him like this. clearly.

and through the dim lighting, through the shadows of the night and the dark pallet of colors swarming the two of you you swore that you had really seen him. and there wasn’t a word to describe the feeling either. it was just like something was turning in your head, gears clicking after so many years.

he was enticing.

enticing you, and drawing you in without meaning.

he notices the quiet that fell between the two of you, and finally meets eye contact with you again. as soon as he does, he notices you had already been staring and an enormous blush immediately takes over him as he tries to figure out how long you had been watching him.

he brings his eyes back down, watching the floor and you notice as he carefully steps over every crack littered on the gray surface. finally you reach the street of your neighborhood, not too far from your friends house, and the boy instinctively grabs onto the cloth of your shirt as you cross the road to get to the right street.

you smile to yourself as you walk side to side next to him and he doesn’t once let go, watching both sides of the road for cars like one could come whipping through and cutting the corner any second to turn the both of you into road kill.

when you reach the next set of sidewalk, now down the path to your house, and he still hasn’t let go, you decide to direct the conversation. “are you gonna tell your mom why you had to come get me?”

he goes quiet for moment, turning to you with his brows furrowed like you had just asked him a really obvious question. “of course not.” a sound that sounds like a mix of a scoff and a giggle leaves his mouth. “even if i did it’s not like she’d arrest you.”

you roll your eyes, bumping your shoulder into him as you walk in sync together. “she’s the sheriff.” you slightly lean into him as you walk and he lets out a little sigh.

“yeah but.. it’s you.”

“what do you mean ‘it’s me’?”

clearly he wasn’t expecting you to want clarification on what he meant, his silence answers that for you. he looks at you, the crickets of the night being the only thing audible. “just.. you’re like my best friend. she wouldn’t arrest you over something like weed. to be honest, I think she smoked a few times when she was a teenager too.”

you hum, the drowsiness stage beginning to set in as you lean more into him, staggering just slightly. wes notices your irregular steps and drapes an arm around your shoulder, leaning you into him as an attempt to balance you.

you smile into his sleeve and don’t even notice the way he’s puffed his cheeks out or stopped breathing completely as he held you closer to him.

finally, you reach your house, the familiar structure waiting in front of you; dark and quiet.

“you’ll make it in okay?” he removes his arm, guiding you lightly in front of him so he can meet your eyes and you have to fight back rolling them at such a silly question but end up smiling at his worry over nothing.

“i don’t know, 15 more feet and im not sure ill have mine anymore.” you smirk at him and he rolls his eyes at you, a look of fondness adoring his features.“ughhh, i guess i should go. call it a night. thank you wes, seriously.” you smile at him, messing with his hair a little. he opens his mouth and then closes it again, like he’s debating saying something more; so you stay a moment longer.

he doesn’t say anything, and after debating with yourself internally for about 5 seconds you lean [down/up] and press a kiss to his cheek; which feels hot under your lips.

you could literally hear his breathing pick up, and when you finally break away from his skin he’s not looking anywhere near you but has rather zoned off somewhere behind you.

“goodnight wes.” you offer him a embarrassed smile before turning away, walking back to your door.

you make it a whopping 4 steps away before he’s calling out after you.

“stop.” there’s actual irritation in his voice, which isn’t normal, and you turn back to face him. he’s standing in the exact same spot with the same dazed look on his face only now he looks a little angry and confused as his forehead is creased and brows are pushed together while looking at you. “what is this? what are you doing?”

you’re confused, clasping your hands together to help gather warmth as a cold breeze runs through the air. “what do you mean?”

wes shakes his head, looking away and then back at you several times and it’s obvious he’s fighting with himself internally. “you know what i mean. this. us. what are you doing? why?”

you don’t look away from him once, confidently staying in your place as you cross your arms; embarrassed to address the situation but not nearly as much as he was. “can you clarify?” it’s kind of obvious what he’s talking about, but there’s some idiotic part of you in your mind forcing you to act stupid which only drove wes more mad.

he opens his lips and an estranged laugh leaves, like someone having a nervous breakdown and randomly starts giggling. it’s an agitated laugh.

“please, whatever you’re doing, stop. stop acting like you don’t know what i mean. you know what you’re doing, and- and what you just did. you must know what kind of effect you have over me or something because at this point it’s getting frustrating when you do these things but can’t even address it. it is like, physically hurting my heart at this point because all i can do when i try to sleep is stare at the ceiling and think about you and what you do to me and whether or not you know what you’re doing or if it’s unintentional and it’s driving me nuts. tell me you don’t feel it. tell me you don’t feel this!” despite how frantic his words come out, and how panicked and vulnerable he looks, he speaks clearly and strings the right words together to express himself. that’s always been a great trait about him. wes was great with his words and knows exactly how to describe how he’s feeling. he just struggled on having the courage to get them out.

you almost don’t know what to say, but there’s no time to find your words before he’s speaking again.

“and don’t give me any more bullshit about how you don’t know exactly what im taking about or how im not being ‘clear enough’ for you. i mean, seriously, i shouldn’t have to spell it out for you at this point because all of our friends know that i like you and even your family, which i tried so hard especially to hide it from, figured it out so fast. it’s not rocket science. besides my mom and tara you are the only girl i consider myself close with and there’s no way it’s not obvious to you when you ask me about the girl i like because it is definitely not tara, and it is definitely not my mom. i like them but not in the way i like you, not in the way you won’t leave my mind so much so it’s frustrating. i can hardly focus in class because I can’t stop thinking about us or if there even is an us or what could happen or if you feel the same way and it’s unfair because there has to be some part of you internally that knows I like you when you kiss my cheek or text me every morning and night or run your fingers through my hair when we hang out and I hate it so much because I can’t read you the same way you can read me and I can’t tell if you’re doing these things just to mess with me or because you might actually feel the same way.”

wes, now out of breath, let’s out quiet gasps and inhales of air after he finishes speaking. he stammers in place for a second, trying to catch his footing as he looks around the environment and at anywhere but you. trying to avoid your eyes. your face. it was all on the line now and he was terrified of what you might say.

“you.. like me?” you repeat to yourself, keeping your eyes trained on his face. this finally gets the hicks boys eyes to land back on you with a frustrated sigh; like you just asked the dumbest thing in the world.

“are you really gonna ask me that after I just finished my dramatic epilogue?”

a smile takes over your face from the way he says this, his breathing still uneven. so many thoughts churn through your head as you try to process what this all means. what this all could mean for you and the future of your friendship with wes.

“you’re right, sorry.” you awkwardly smile, taking one step closer to him as you begin to try to gather your mind and express what you were thinking.

“you’re not worried about this changing us? our friendship? what if we breakup?” all reasonable questions to ask, they come flying out of your mouth one by one and wes feels his heartbeat quicken in hope as he realizes you haven’t yet rejected him.

“youch, thinking about breaking up already?” the blonde feins hurt and places a hand loosely over his heart which earns an eye roll from you before he shakes his head. “do you even know how much I like you? I mean, clearly not. the last thing I would ever want is for us to breakup. if that happened, that’s on you. and our friendship? what do you mean? did you just friendzone me? (y/n).” wes lets out one last final sigh before grabbing for one of your hands with both of his, locking eyes with you nervously.

“please, i just need to know how you feel. if you don’t feel the same way, it’s fi-“

the feeling of his lips on yours is as soft as you could have ever imagined. they were plump and tasted of strawberry chapstick. a far too prolonged kiss was shared, and you cupped one side of his face with your hand while bringing the other behind his neck.

wes felt his knees buckle underneath him, feeling like he was in a dream. he had dreamed of this moment for so long and was now having a hard time believing it was real. the kiss almost felt too perfect.

after a few delayed seconds he gently placed both hands on your waist, holding you down in place as he moves his lips against yours as if to stop you from ever leaving.

you pull away, face burning a bright red and heart pounding an unnatural rate before you finally open your mouth to speak.

“i feel it.”

` ੈ˚ ★ a / n : i deadass started ts 7 months ago but it’s been rotting in my drafts since school started back and nasa wanted to recruit me as a potential subject in their spacial exposure severer super undercover mission

started 08.06.23.

finished 03.29.24.

( scream masterlist )

©️ nolovelingers 2024

[1pepsiboy]

Just Like A Movie (Matt Sturniolo fluff)

Description: After a morning of fliming, Matt wants to enjoy fall activites with his girlfriend (reader). Inspired the song by the Wallows and Matt's love for fall time.

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: None, just fluffy and silly Matt!

A/N: This is my first Matt writing, so sorry if it's not totally accurate! Lol I do requests! Currently anything Chris, Matt, Nick, and Colby!

----

Matt, Chris, and Nick were filming a guess 21 different halloween candies challenge. You sat on the couch behind the camera, scrolling through your phone but periodically looked up to glance at your boyfriend. Who would cheese when you did. Sometimes you'd make a silly face or comment, distracting him enough they'd have to restart part of the segment. Finally, they finish and Matt was the one closest to getting them all right. It wasn't surprising since he'd won guessing 21 different drinks.

Matt makes his way to the couch and wrapped his arms around you immediately. He nustles his head into your shoulder for a couple minutes and you run your fingertips up and down his back. Then he gives you a quick peck on the lips, mostly because Nick and Chris were still in the kitchen and they would make jokes about it.

You lick your lips and furrow your brows. "Hmm... I taste Snickers? No, Reese's?"

"(y/n)!" Matt whines lightly.

"Wait, wait, wait." You kiss his soft lips again. "It's Kitkat!"

A giggle escapes Matt and he lightly rolls his blue eyes. "Can we go do fall things, babe? Get away from those idiots over there. I've had enough of them today."

Nick flips him off as Chris fake laughs and makes a face. "So unoriginal Matt."

Now you roll your eyes. "Let's leave these losers to their lame things."

----

"I can drive if you want, babe," you suggest as you make it out the door after Matt changed his outfit to fit the vibe more. It's early afternoon now and barely a breeze to make it feel like a real fall day.

He shoots you a side smile and unclips the keys from his jean beltloop. "No, that's okay, I don't mind."

The two of you get comfortable in the front seats, starting up the recent playlist you created.

"Where to first?" you ask.

"What about... apple patch? Wait, I mean pumpkin picking... Fuck, I mean apple picking and then a pumpkin patch."

You reach out and lace your fingers with his. "I'd love to go to an apple patch and pumpkin picking. Maybe hot cocoa after?"

He nods and you put in the directions for the nearest apple picking farm. The two of you sing along. And you couldn't help pointing out people going about their daily lives. It takes up most of your conversation before you arrive at the farm.

Matt locks the car before he clips them back on the their loop and takes your hand. The apple farm was free to anyone, but they had a jar and square for donations/tips. You take out your card for them to do a $5 donation, and Matt doubles the amount.

You take a small basket and pull him over to one of the trees. Unfortunately most of the reachable ones were picked. But both of you still attempt to get one or two by running and jumping. You know you look like idiots, however you didn't care.

Matt gets a video of you as you finally acquire an apple and show it triumphantly. "That's right. No tree is a match for me! This apple is my bitch." You bite a chunk of the crispy green apple.

Matt laughs. "Babe, we're supposed to save them to make caramel apples!"

Your eyes go wide and you laugh as you chew it to a point you could speak. "Sorry, I can get another one."

He slips his phone back into his pocket as he shakes his head. "Let's try a different tree.

The second tree was a similar situation despite it just being on the brink of fall. There were a lot of early birds.

This time you get a story of Matt snagging two apples and he tries to not show how out of breath he is. "Ahh! Hah! I got some."

The two of you try two more trees and manage to get a few more.

There was a station for you to either bag them right away or make them caramel or chocolate covered before leaving. You spend far too long deciding on how many should be caramel and chocolate, and what toppings should be on them. You think of each brother and friend that'll want one. By the end, there's only one left and neither of you made one for yourselves.

"You choose," Matt says, kissing your cheek.

With creative intuition, you make it half and half, then smear all sorts of toppings on it and present it. Matt rests his hand on top of yours and takes a bite out of it.

"Mm..." he nods and runs a half through his hair, most of falling back in place. "I like what you did with the caramel and chocolate."

You take your own, attempting to lick the excess off around your mouth. "Delicious."

Your next stop was at a nearby pumpkin patch, which was also a little picked over. But there were still enough to enjoy and walk around a little bit. You pick up a few of the biggest ones you could find to get photos with.

Matt pulls you in for a selfie. His eyes squint as the sun is directly in your eyes and fumbles backwards. This causes him to run into a bundle of baby pumpkins and his butt lands on top of the stems.

"Fucking shit!" He groans as he holds onto his ass and rolls over on the ground.

You hold back a laugh and help him up. He paces back and forth a couple times.

"I'm done with the pumpkins," he sulks.

"Let's get hot cocoa to make it all better," you baby, jutting out your bottom lip.

He tries not to laugh but it didn't work.

----

You enjoy a small walk as you sip on hot cocoa, the sun starts to go down. You hold the to-go cup tightly between your palms in the hopes to warm up your hands. You forgot to bring any sort of warm layer. Once the sun is gone, it feels like fall now.

Matt shoots you a concerned look. "Are you cold, babe?"

"A little, yeah," you laugh under your breath.

"Here, wear my sweater, (y/n)."

"No, it's fine."

It's too late, he already took his jacket off and pulls the vintage sweater over his head. You take the sweater and tug it over your short sleeve tee. The warmth of the material and from him wearing it all afternoon engulfs your entire body. It sends shivers down your spine from the temperature adjustment.

Matt has his jacket back on and wraps his arms around you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. He kisses the crook of your neck. "Better?"

"Absolutely."

The two of you reminisce on your adventures of the day. Ultimately, though, it leads back to a few of the couples around you in the park. One were unashamedly having a full on make out session underneath a tree. Another were taking cutesy photos in matching outfits.

"You'll never catch us doing that," Matt comments.

You raise your eyebrows at him. "Did you forget the matching pj pants we had for christmas last year?"

"That doesn't count," he scoffs lightly. "It was only pants. I mean, like, top, pants, accessories, the whole fit. It's just cringy."

You giggle. "Whatever you say, Matty B."

"It is! Are you saying you want to do that?" He sips on his hot cocoa. "Cause that might be a deal breaker."

"Not seriously. More in an ironic way. Like those people on tiktok doing the 80s style photoshoots at JcPenny. Now that would be fun and not cringy!"

He shook his head. "No, nope."

"Come on!" you argue. "Think about the memories we could make!"

"Absolutely not, it would be embarrasing."

You roll your eyes. "That's kind of the point, babe."

"Still," he retorts.

"Fine." You sigh lightly. "I'll just ask Chris to do it with me. He won't care."

Matt shrugs, finishing the last of his drink, and tosses it into the nearest trash can. "Okay, you two have fun with that."

"We will." You do the same with your drink.

You sense Matt's a little down now and force him into a hug. "Thanks for today, babe. You're the best."

He falls into your body more and lets out a deep breath. "Any time, (y/n)."

[awarnin]

NSFW Alphabet | DYLAN MINNETTE HEADCANONS

warning: NSFW content (obvs lol), chocking.

author's note: my first time writing smut FUCK. please be kind, constructive criticism is welcome. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT <3 my inbox is open if you have a request or want to chat!

.

a = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Dylan will take care of you always, during and after sex. He will pick you up and carry you to the shower, gently wash your hair making you feel comfortable and loved. He likes to make sure you’re okay.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He LOVES your hips. He loves being able to grab them and pull you towards him to feel your bodies collide. He does it everywhere, in private, when you’re talking to someone, when you’re distracted. A discreet act but sexy enough to turn you both on. As for himself, he’s been working on his arms lately and is very comfortable with the results. He knows you like them, and he likes that.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He loves to cum on your stomach, seeing you lying there, defeated and with your puppy eyes waiting for him makes him give himself to you with such fervor. Plus, he'll always make sure you cum before him.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I dare say he's always had the fantasy of cuckolding. The idea of seeing you with another man turns him on a lot.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Experienced enough to know what he's doing, but he'll always ask you what you like and if you're comfortable with what he's doing.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

COWBOY. He really loves your hips, being able to hold you while watching you take control and make him cum is the best thing that can happen to him.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He'll make a few comments that will make you laugh so you don't lose track, but most of the time he'll focus on making you roll your eyes.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

As you like. He'll keep it the way you prefer it and makes it more comfortable for you.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Dylan won't get tired of giving you kisses on the neck, and whispering how much he loves you.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

It's something he enjoys doing, whether you're there or not. It's something he does often and he loves doing it in places where he knows you'll catch him.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

Choking kink: He likes you to choke him, Dylan is a multi-dynamic person, be clear about that.

Daddy kink: When he's in control, he loves you calling him that, it makes him feel like he's doing a good job.

Threesomes: Not necessarily a fetish but it's definitely something he likes to experiment with you, of course, if you want.

Praise kink: He likes to flatter you, compliment your figure and tell you to say it by doing well, he likes to receive the same.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

He is a very closed person when it comes to having sex: your bedroom, the shower or the living room.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Like I said before, your hips. God, he loves them so much. Also watching you wear his clothes or play his guitar.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turns offs)

Public sex. It’s a no, no negotiation.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He likes both. He loves feeling your legs getting stiffer and more stiffer around his neck, it gives him enormous satisfaction knowing that only his tongue can make you come that way. He loves tasting your juices. He also adores to see you on your knees ready to give it your all just to make him feel good, what can I say, he has a big ego.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s the sensual type, he likes to take his time with you and make you feel great, plus he doesn't want to hurt you.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not a big fan.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As I said before, he doesn't like to take risks when it comes to outsiders that you aren't sexually involved with at the time. Sex is an intimate experience and he believes it should be treated as one.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

3 on a good day, most of the time 2.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He really enjoys using them on you, especially vibrators, he feels it adds a little extra spark to the moment. On himself, he's not into it.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn't like to tease you too much, enough that you're already so down before you even start.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's quite a talkative person during sex, he likes to whisper dirty words in your ear during the act, he'll let out a few little moans here and there.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He likes to use handcuffs sometimes, it doesn't matter on which one of you, he just enjoys using them. He enjoys having you on top of him while he's being subdued by you without being able to escape. He loves you doing whatever you want with him without him being able to interrupt. When he's in the mood, he'll return the favor.

x = x-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

He's a little bit above average, kind of 6-6.5 inches, kind of thin but really good.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty normal, he enjoys sex with you.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He would rather spend some time talking to you before going to sleep, he likes to take care of you afterwards and make sure you are okay.

.

[reidfucker]

so reid coded...

You don't like my clothes but you still like my smile Scrawny motherfucker with a cool hairstyle Take me home to mom but it'll take awhile Scrawny motherfucker with a cool hairstyle They might think they're cooler than me by a mile Scrawny motherfucker with a cool hairstyle I can still have wisdom and look like a child Scrawny motherfucker with a cool hairstyle

💿 Scrawny - Wallows

[gojoed]

satoru was right. having two death anniversaries would have been complicated.

your sore eyes opened, looking up from your hands that joined in prayer at the photo looking directly at you. it was his, the one that almost everyone who enrolls in jujutsu high takes for their id, whether staff or student. there wasn’t a hint of a smug grin or a smirk, just a normal smile. it exposed his dimples that almost no one took notice of, or just never gotten close enough to see.

your legs felt numb from having them tucked under you. but leaving the alter that was in one corner of the apartment that was both his and yours felt wrong.

the smoke from the incense wafted between the offerings on the alter. suguru was there too. but his was different from satoru’s. his was already there for some time now. to you, he never grew up from your teenage years. so that boyish smile and winking eyes looked back at you whenever you came here.

the death of suguru stung yes, a wound that never closed. but the death of satoru felt like a disease had plagued your body and never left. the grief never left your heart, never left even while you slept, it creeped in whenever it could. the kitchen, where you used to bake together. the living room, where you used to hug one another. the bedroom, where you used to worship each other.

the grief stayed but the love never left. it was there, in your soul. in the necklace he left you, the one he had given you so long ago. the sapphire hanging around your neck reminding you of him. paling in comparison to his eyes. the love never left the places where you both taught megumi to ride a bike. it never left the spot where you would always find each other back in high school. it never left.

not like he left you. but you never blamed him. maybe, you hoped, the universe would be kind enough to let you follow satoru not long after this.

[lvndrfucks]

It was early when the band and crew arrived at the venue. You were lying backstage on the couch, scrolling through your phone. Everyone else was moving around you, but you still couldn’t help but feel a bit sluggish.

You were so distracted on your screen, you didn’t realize one of the boys coming up and wiggling their way into your arms. A small groan left your mouth at the sudden weight.

“Why?” Your voice strained.

“You’re tired. I’m tired.” That was all Cole said with his head lying on your chest and arms wrapping around your body.

Before you could respond, the both of you groaned this time as Braeden decided to be the cherry on top.

“I love you guys,” he sighed happily.

“I…can’t…breathe…assholes.”

Dylan, who was sitting a few feet away, was recording on his phone. He giggled quietly zooming in on his bandmates. He captioned it “hard at work” before posting it on the band’s story.

You slapped Braeden’s arm with all your strength. He eventually got up and Cole sat up, as well, letting your legs rest on his. You took in deep, dramatic breaths.

“That actually felt nice,” you admitted. “I was getting cold.”

Cole playfully rolled his eyes. “Do you want me to get your blanket?”

You shook your head. “It’s okay. We’re gonna rehearse anyways and I gotta do my makeup after. And figure out what to wear.”

“Wow. Someone’s unprepared.”

You sat up and punched his arm. You let out a yelp while running away before he could get you back.

The whole band was on the stage for soundcheck. You had just finished rehearsing one of your solo songs and waiting to continue with the setlist. You stretched your arms above your head, letting a large yawn out. With a large sigh, you laid flat on the stage and stared up at the ceiling.

You still sang into the microphone softly to test the levels. Dylan noticed the videographer recording for the behind the scenes and decided to mess with you a bit. He placed his guitar down and started towards you.

A small screech escaped as you cowered behind your arms at Dylan’s attempt to jump you. He laughed as you tried stretching to kick his legs. He ended up grabbing your ankles, threatening to use you as a mop across the stage. This time, you were laughing while trying to break free.

You made Braeden carry you backstage after soundcheck was done. He dumped you on the couch.

“I smell tacos,” you spoke.

“Maybe because there’s tacos,” Dylan replied.

With a gasp, you sprang up and made a B-line towards the food. A few chuckled at your sudden enthusiasm. After piling the food onto your plate, you sat down on the floor in front of a full length mirror to start your makeup.

Cole glanced at you from time to time at your multitasking. He started to notice the frustration on your face as you kept trying to tuck your long hair behind your ears or keeping it from falling over your shoulders.

He walked over and wordlessly sat behind you. He gathered your hair back gently and used the spare hair band on his wrist to tie your hair back.

(Dylan and Braeden saw this as a photo opportunity.)

You thanked him, continuing your makeup. He didn’t move from his spot and watched you work.

“Should I put glitter on,” you asked, looking at Cole over your shoulder.

“Why wouldn’t you?” He grinned.

“I don’t know. What if I start crying or something? I can’t put on eyeshadow because I get all oily and sweaty.”

He chuckled. “Why would you start crying?”

“I don’t know! I’m a very emotional person.” You sighed and faced the mirror. “Fuck it, I’ll just put it on.” You leaned in closer to the mirror to place glitter in the inner corner of your eyes.

Cole thought it was a perfect time to take a photo through the mirror. (And Braeden took a photo of him doing so.)

You groaned suddenly. “You know what. I should’ve put the glitter on right before we go on stage. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“How was I supposed to know?” He threw his hands up while laughing. “It’s okay. You can just reapply it later.”

“It’s not the same,” you pouted. “It’s not fresh.”

Cole placed his hands on your hips, kissing the back of your head. “It’s okay,” he reassured. That seemed to have done the trick as you relaxed. “But don’t put on your lipstick yet because you always complain about ruining it. Then, you end up having to take it off and rushing to put it back on.”

“Ugh, you’re right.” You placed the lipstick back in your bag. “You’re so smart.” You turned your head to place a kiss on his cheek. “Come help me pick out an outfit.”

The two of you stood up, you holding onto your plate of unfinished tacos tightly.

Cole sat in one of the chairs as you looked through your suitcase. Well, you were actually throwing all your clothes onto the floor trying to look for specific pieces because you had a vision.

“Okay,” you started and faced him, “long sleeve with my black mini skirt and knee high boots. And,” you reached into your other bag, “this white belt or no?”

He tilted his head in thought. “Definitely white belt.”

You nodded and set them aside. “That settles that. See? I’m not unprepared.”

“No, you’re just messy.” He gestured to the clothes littered around the floor.

You waved your hand dismissively. “Part of the process.”

You started folding your clothes to put back. Cole moved next to you to help.

It was nearly showtime. You were currently getting your mandatory photoshoot. The boys often liked to crash it, just like now.

Braedon peeked his head in before standing right in front of you with a wide smile. You pushed him aside, the camera capturing your faux annoyed expression. After he left, Dylan passed through and the two of you took a few serious shots. One of the both of you leaning back against the wall and another with your arm resting on his shoulder.

When Cole entered the room, your smile seemed to have widened. You beckoned him forward. He shook his head at first until you seized his arm and pulled him to your side. He tried maintaining a straight face, but it was hard to when you were looking at him with heart-shaped eyes. The both of you ignored the ongoing clicking.

“You guys go on in five,” the stage manager announced.

You thanked the photographer and joined Dylan snd Braedon on stage. Before you and Cole could separate, he held onto your arm and pressed a brief kiss upon your lips. You smiled as he pecked again and again.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too.” Your thumb rubbed over his cheek.

Cole settled himself on his drums while you at your keyboard. You glanced back at him, giving a small wink just before the lights dimmed.

“All the things you don't wanna let go…”

hera speaks!

i recently saw wallows in concert and it quite literally changed my life. then, to my disappointment, there was a serious lack of wallows fics! so i’m making it my duty to fix that.

if you have any requests, i encourage you to send them. the fluffier the better!

(can you tell who my fav is…)

[sleepingnova]

Hi starry! Can I please request an x reader with peter Parker?? I just want some thing really fluffy!!! Thank you

ducky, I know it's you 🤫🫣 I'm like a year late but it's ok, we're going to pretend like time is irrelevant here. Also woah me actually posting? ain't no way

Uncomfortable

Summary : Peter Parker is tasked with his final English presentation for the year. Only problem is, it's with you, and he's got a massive crush.

Pairing : Peter Parker x gn! reader

Word count : 1k

Peter Parker hates presentations: he hates how you have to stand in front of a class full of kids who aren’t even listening to what you have to say. He hates it with every ounce of his being.

As the school year comes to a close, he realizes that this is his last speaking project of the year-- and oh my god– he almost jumped for joy when he read that in Mr. Stark’s lab. He catches himself, because how embarrassing would that be in front of THE Dr. Banner and War Machine??? So he does what a normal teenager would do: he smiles at his screen, pretending like he just got a really funny text. 

His expression drops when he realizes it’s a partner project, and both Ned and MJ are being paired with someone else. His heart drops into his stomach when he realizes his partner for the project is you, the prettiest and most popular girl in school! He’s had a slight hallway crush, but he always psyches himself out of talking to you because, hello? You’re way out of his league! So, like any teenage boy, he calls his best friend, spiraling. 

“Hey, Peter, what’s up? You’re still coming over to put the new lego set together with me this weekend, right? Don’t tell me you're about to cancel–” The receiving end gets cut off, by Peter of course rambling on and on. 

“You talking to me, kid?” Tony chimes from his desk, his back turned away from Peter as he works on something completely different, a new suit mod Peter presumes.

“Dude, I- what? No, not you, Mr. S- Tony. Sorry,” He stumbles, not missing the way Tony’s finger points backwards at him, almost as if he's waiting for him to correct himself. When he did, he gave a thumbs up and kept working, keeping his ears open. “Okay, dude, we have a problem, like a big problem. Like, you don’t understand how cooked I am. How cooked WE are. I have to work with that really pretty girl in our class for the presentation.” Peter rambles, covering his face at his so-called “problem,” and Tony almost bursts out laughing, stifling his chuckles with a cough into his fist. 

“Oh yeah, her. She’s really sweet, from what MJ’s told me. Okay, here’s what you do: I'll get you her number and just text her.” Ned rings out from the other end, half paying attention, half doing something completely different. 

“What? No, dude I can't just text her; you gotta have proper text etiquette. What would I even say? ‘Hey, you probably don’t know me, but we’re partners, and I have this massive crush on you, and I’ve been lowkey nervous as hell to come and talk to you’? Like, no. That’s how to scare her away 101. MJ and Liz are really the only two girls I actually talk to.” Tony can’t help but shake his head in disbelief, a faint smile on his face as he tries his hardest not to laugh at the kid as he apparently gets hung up on.

Peter groans, burying his head in his hands, a heated blush on his face behind his hands as Tony stifles his laughs, before finally turning around, a smug look on his face. 

“So, girl trouble, kid? Don’t be embarrassed, it happens to everyone! Well, not me back in the day,” Tony snorts, his eavesdropping making Peter sigh dramatically. “You’re a catch! Great personality and everything. Whoever this girl is would be lucky to have you. Does May know?” Tony asks, to which Peter was quick to shut it down with a “No, she doesn’t. I’m not going to say anything because this is literally just a school crush. She doesn’t even know I exist!” 

“Which is exactly why when you do this project with her, she’ll get to know you. Be your nerdy self and she’ll love you. Hell, in the two years I’ve known you, you’ve grown on me. I wasn’t even a kids person before I met you. When I lost you for those five years, I realized how much you wormed your sticky hands into my heart, or what heart I have left. You’re better than all of us, kid. You have a good heart and a good head on your shoulders; you don’t see that much anymore,” Tony pauses, trying to encourage him. “Just be yourself, kid. I promise you, stay true to yourself and it’ll work out.”

Peter nods and gradually, a week passes. Tony watches as he comes into the lab, noticing the slump in his shoulders, as if the weight of the world was actually picked up off his shoulders. Before Peter could even ask what they were doing today, his question of “what happened with your partner? Did you get her number?” came rolling off his mentor’s tongue, to which Peter could only respond with a whine and a blush creeping up to his cheeks. 

“Jesus, seriously? I can’t even go for a week without you asking.” The dry and defensive response made Tony laugh before he continued with a shy smile. “I did get her number, and an A on the presentation, thanks for asking. She’s leaving for the summer, but we’re going to talk all summer and just see how it goes. She’ll be back in New York every now and then, and I’m going to be working most of the summer, but I’m sure I can make the time.” His last phrase caught Tony’s attention. He turned, furrowing a brow at the brunette boy. As a response, the boy only shrugged. Something about getting a job to help out his aunt, which meant his lab days were going to be cut a lot shorter, but in true Tony Stark fashion, he tuned it out, already cooking up a way to override that.

That day, Peter was left half surprised and half anticipating how his summer was going to go. In his eyes, he aced his final English exam and got to form a blooming relationship with the girl he’s been crushing on from day one. Yeah, he’d tell his “Parker Luck” to go screw itself, because this was a definite win in his book.

okay, did I cook? be honest. I think I cooked. should I make another part to this of how the relationship forms or something like that?

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, and thank you to my #1 proofreader that I keep in my pocket at all times <3

[trashvampiree]

Paul: you must be Humpty Dumpty from the 1983 (UK) Kinder Surprise commercial if you think we're fucking

My ass:

[shmowder]

resisting the urge to write a modern au incel Yulia/Peter who stalks you online

[gothsuguru]

thank you to the person who requested geto being obsessed w gojo’s gf because the idea of it is DELICIOUS - here’s a lil teaser!

[mrsoharaa]

Your out of breath, lungs colliding ever so frantically against your chest, sweat beading down the stride of your sweltering face as your body seemed to be spurt out to exhaustion. Hardly holding yourself up upon your right knee, you plant your right hand onto it, keeping your heavy, exerted figure up with what little strength you could muster.

A low, sentimental chuckle bellows before you, capturing your hazy attention you lift your head to watch your sparring partner, Suguru, smile tenderly down at you, holding out a hand as he leans forward next to your torrid left ear.

"You did so good today love, how about we take a short break, mm? let the students spar a bit" his silky voice would entrance you, lulling you to a deep state of bewitchment and seduction. His long fingers coyly slipping and grazing over yours smoothly, intimately, as you both finally maintain eye contact.

Your heart sputters rapidly against your heaving chest, already were you feeling completely drained, but now you felt every muscle in your body immediately tense to the simple notion. Those gravitating eyes ever so intent and enticing, drawing you in every second you kept starring into them. Watching the corners of his plush, inviting lips curl into a small jesting grin. Something entirely different painting behind it.

The man was exclusively seductive, without even trying.

He has you at the wits of his fingers.

And just like the curses he consumes...he is devouring it up.

[agaypanic]

The Fella Playlist

This is the playlist I use when writing chapters for The Fella and since we're close to the end of it (only 3 chapters left), I thought I'd share it with y'all. I'd link the actual playlist but I don't have spotify (ik you don't need spotify to share playlists but it's more aesthetic than amazon music, which is what I use)

The Fella Masterlist

Spotify Link

A Million Love Songs - Take That

Call It What You Want - Taylor Swift

Dress - Taylor Swift

Everybody Talks - Neon Trees

Glory Days - The Vamps

LIGHT SHOWER - Melanie Martinez

Like a Virgin - Madonna

London Boy - Taylor Swift

Motion - Emotional Oranges

Nervous - Shawn Mendes

Pleaser - Wallows

She Looks So Perfect - 5 Seconds Of Summer

Somebody To You - The Vamps [feat. Demi Lovato]

We'll Never Have Sex - Leith Ross

Wild Uncharted Waters - Jonah Hauer-King

You Belong With Me - Taylor Swift

[awarnin]

Hiiii queen!!! I love your work sm and you’re literally the only person writing for wallows at the moment so thank you for that!! Can I request a Braeden fic? Maybe something to do with comforting the reader or the reader comforting him? I’m honestly fine with whatever cause I know it’s gonna be amazing either way. Thank you!!💕

Do You Think So...? | BRAEDEN LEMASTERS X FEM!READER

synopsis: He doesn't know how to face an argument...

warning: angst, Braeden thinks everything is against him, anxiety. He argues with Dylan.

author's note: it hasn't even been 24 hours since this request was made omg when it comes to Braeden's angst im SEATED (i've been daydreaming about this for the last month lmao) thanks for your request and the compliments, baby. let me know what you think, i hope you like it <3

wordcount: 5.1k

.

You sit at the kitchen table, the warm light of the lamp above you casting soft shadows on the walls as you swipe your finger across your phone screen. The distant hum of the city filtering through the open window mingles with the soft whisper of the trees. You're waiting for Braeden to come back from his studio session with the guys, like he does every Thursday, when the sound of the door suddenly swinging open breaks the tranquility. The bang of the door slamming shut echoes through the house, and you hear hurried footsteps running up the stairs.

“Brae?” you call, setting your phone aside as you stand. There’s no response, but his body language says it all. You follow the sound of his footsteps, climbing the stairs one by one, a growing concern building in your chest. When you reach the hallway, you hear the bedroom door slam shut, followed by a muffled cry of frustration.

As you gently push the door open, you see him. Braeden is lying on the edge of the bed, his feet dangling in the air, and his eyes—those eyes that have always shown you strength and kindness—are now filled with helplessness. He looks at you like a wounded puppy, extending his hand toward you, seeking comfort.

“Oh, babe… What happened now?” you ask softly as you take his hand. You lie down beside him, feeling the weight of his emotions in the air, so thick it feels like you could cut through it. Your fingers find his hair, and you begin to stroke it, trying to soothe the storm in his mind.

“It’s the same as always… Dylan doesn’t listen to me,” his voice is barely a whisper, as if the words weigh him down. He falls silent for a moment, struggling to find the way to explain what he’s feeling. “I want to do one thing, he wants another, and…” He lets out a long sigh, and it feels as if the air leaves his body like he’s been holding his breath all day. “It’s suffocating,” he adds, his hand falling limply to his side as his eyes search yours, filled with uncertainty.

You keep stroking his hair, your gaze soft yet steady, trying to offer him reassurance. “And what did Dylan say about it?”

Braeden shifts slightly on the bed, his gaze lost on the ceiling. “He said it was fine, but…” he pauses, his eyes narrowing as if replaying the moment in his mind. “I know he was upset about it. I told him we could leave the song the way he wanted, but he told me no, that it was fine the way I suggested. But still… everything felt tense.”

You know Braeden hates conflict. He’d rather swallow his own words than get into an argument, and that’s what worries you most. Sometimes, his desire to avoid problems locks him in an emotional prison.

“Braeden…” you look at him, your eyes reflecting the sadness you feel for him.

“I know! I know what you’re going to say,” he interrupts, his voice rising a little, not out of anger but from frustration with himself. “You told me to stand my ground, not to give in so easily, but… God, it’s so hard. I don’t want him to be mad at me.”

You feel this is one of those moments when you need to be his anchor, so you take a deep breath before speaking. “Are you willing to sing songs you don’t like for the rest of your life just because you’re afraid of facing a small disagreement?”

Your words seem to hang in the air, heavy, but necessary. Braeden falls silent for a moment, his brows furrowed as if processing what you just said. You know he’s not someone who gives up easily, but the fear of disappointing others has always kept him bound.

“It’s not that…” he finally responds, his voice softer, more vulnerable. “I just… I don’t want him to think I believe his music is bad, and I don’t want him to end up singing songs he doesn’t like either.”

You sigh, understanding him more than he understands himself. “Brae,” you look at him tenderly, “if Dylan accepted your suggestion, it’s because he thought it was good, because he listened to you, he didn't do it because he felt obligated. The only one putting this pressure on yourself is you. Making music with your friends shouldn’t feel like this.”

Braeden keeps staring at the ceiling, processing your words. Slowly, he raises an arm and places it over his forehead, covering his eyes. “Do you think so?” he asks, his voice tired, but also carrying a small glimmer of hope.

“Yes, I do,” you respond firmly. “Music is a reflection of what you feel. You can’t keep suppressing your ideas out of fear of what others will think. You need to find a balance, and the guys will, too.”

Braeden turns toward you, his eyes tired but grateful. In that moment, he feels small, vulnerable, but also comforted by your presence. You take his hand again and squeeze it gently, giving him strength.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible.

You snuggle closer to him, wrapping your arms around him, feeling his breathing slowly deepen, becoming more relaxed. The atmosphere, once thick with tension, now feels lighter. The night outside carries on, but within that room, the world seems to pause for a moment, giving you both a much-needed reprieve.

Braeden closes his eyes, and you keep stroking his hair, knowing that for today, at least, you’ve managed to calm the storms in his mind.

.

[ateotd-izzy]

maybe i should actually finish writing something in my drafts on here…

[stellewriites]

was in the middle of reading a fic on here when the app glitched and now i can’t find it 😭😭😭 everything i search isn’t getting it to come up either