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ermwhatthesigma

1 week ago

Alphabet Soup

NSFW alphabet challenge (request) pairing: grey!Wally Clark x fem!reader premise: the journey of a clandestine love affair at several stages because Wally Clark craves what he can't have and refuses to keep his hands to himself. and you live for it. (Janet and Wally are dating to increase their social value. meanwhile, Wally wants to get closer to her step-sister. you.) warnings: smut. AU - modern setting. non-linear narrative. romanticized toxic behavior. cheating (not on you). egregious use of the word 'baby'.

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A is for the addiction Wally develops once he sets his sights on you. He's feral with it. Can't get enough of your skin under his fingertips; your shapes fitted against his; the sounds you make when he takes you apart with his teeth and his tongue and his dirty fucken mouth. So different from the public persona he sheds the second you're behind closed doors.

B is for bad ideas. Like the one that crept in behind his eyelids the instant he noticed you, cute and soft and sweet as a kitten. God, he wanted to do something about it right there. In front of the roomful of people between you, no fucks given. Wally's impulsive on a good day and reckless on a bad day, and you inspire too many fantasies that he can't not want to live out.

C is for competency, control; the single-minded intensity Wally has for every task. How he moves with a perfect combination of aggression and grace on the field, catching the ball from the QB. Touchdown. How he folds over the hood of your car and fiddles with cables and tightens bolts and fixes the rattle in the engine. How he holds his own desire at bay to bring you to the edge, over and over and over again until you sob. How he makes you come as soon as he slides home, grinds in, measured and slow, making it last as long as he wants before taking pity on you and fucking you into the mattress.

D is for Wally's dirty mouth. The things he rasps at you as he takes you apart with his fingers, his mouth, his cock. "You feel so good, baby,"—"fuck, I love the way you taste,"—"I want you to come on my tongue,"—"that's it, fuck, yeah, don't stop, baby, just like that, so good for me, such a good girl..." His fingers dig into your hips as he guides you in his lap, up-down-grind-repeat; his lips on your throat, teeth in your skin, marking you up so everyone knows you belong to someone. Belong to him.

E is for the effort Wally finds himself making to see you smile. It's stupid, he thinks, because it's not like he loves you. He's horny and putting out isn't part of the deal he and Janet made at the end of Junior year. But then he sees some jackass try to touch you, making jokes Wally doesn't find funny, drawling that he'll treat you special and make you see God as you shove and kick at him. Then you start crying and Wally sees red. Steps in. Pummels the guy's nose into his skull so hard, Wally's knuckles are scraped and bloody when he caresses your face and kisses your forehead. Promises to drive you home from the party. "Fuck that guy, baby girl, he won't touch you again."

F is for the way Wally shamelessly flirts with you. The back-and-forth you and he have when surrounded by people. Dark and husky, leaning in close with his back to Janet who's too busy with her drones to care what Wally's up to. You're fierce and funny and you flirt right back once you're comfortable enough, but Wally's had a lot of practice and knows how to get you hot with the right inflections. Eyes dark and heavy, lips brushing your ear, breath ghosting your skin while his fingers trail over your hip, "I bet you'd look better on your knees for me, baby."

G is for the God-given talent Wally has. You know the one. That one he weaponizes when he wants you to stop being stubborn, be a good girl, behave. He spreads your legs, kisses down your body, then delivers his bribe; tongue-deep inside you, making out with your pussy like a gourmet dessert de la crème. He could spend hours there if you let him, moaning when you grind your pretty pink kitty against his mouth, so close, Wally, oh God—it's all he needs to sustain himself.

H is for how Wally holds you down against the mattress; up against the wall; in his lap as he sits back on his haunches, one arm banded around your waist, the other braced behind him as he rolls his hips up, sharp thrusts and deep grinds into you, "That's it, baby, keep bouncing on daddy's cock...just like that...fuck." His big hand clasps your thigh when he flips you onto your back, pushing it up as far as your flexibility will allow, spreading you open for him, wanting to get as deep as he can, wanting to make you scream his name and forget your own.

I is for the intensity of Wally's stare as he watches you from across the room, his eyes tracking you as you laugh with your friends. He strips you in his mind, licks his lips as your skirt rides higher on your thigh when you cross your legs. A flash of pink lace, the panties Wally asked you to wear that make his jeans tight and mouth water. He cups himself through the denim, casual, sprawled on the opposite couch, gaze smoothing up your legs to your hips to your collar, fucking you with his eyes until you notice and give your friends an excuse to follow Wally to the bathroom.

J is for the jealousy Wally has to keep tightly contained in his bones whenever he sees another guy approach you. Like Jacob from Pre Cal, who flirts with you as if he doesn't know you belong to someone else. Wally is too obvious, he's aware, glaring daggers at the retinue of possible others who dare step into your space. Careful, collected, Wally has to smile like he doesn't notice them as he struts over and positions himself at your back, hands on your hips to drag you against him, ass fitted into the cradle of his pelvis. He watches in satisfaction as the dipshits take their leave with their tails between their legs.

K is for how Wally kisses you. The variety of ways. Pushy and ruthless when he's agitated; too much energy and no outlet. Or soft and slow when he just wakes up, liquid smile and heavy eyes, hand cupping your jaw like you're something precious. He nips and tugs your lips with his teeth when a teammate makes a comment just this side of not fucking funny, Gary and Wally isn't allowed to do anything about it. Sometimes, his kisses are sharp, honed, exactly what you want to feel so he can get what he wants. Always, his kisses are stolen. Behind locked doors, in dark corners, wherever he can snatch them from you without getting caught.

L is for the feeling Wally is terrified to label. The one that blooms in his chest whenever you touch him, smile at him, say his name, move, breathe, exist. Shit. It's warm and tingly and drives him to distraction because this is just a fun way to pass the time, to make things more interesting; he can't want you like that... But he does.

M is for the mess Wally makes of you when he fucks you in an alley or an empty classroom or behind the stadium. Thick cock slamming into you until you come at least twice, your panties around your ankles, his jeans at his thighs, pounding into you as he grips your hips so hard you bruise. He pulls out just enough to paint your pussy with his come, smearing it through your wetness with the tip of his cock, letting his spend and your juices trickle down your leg. And when you're forced to wipe yourself off with your ruined panties, he pockets them before you can throw them away, smug and satisfied.

N is for the fact that there's nothing Wally won't try with you, do for you, take from you. He wants everything you have to give. Is determined to taste every inch of you, from top to bottom, back to front, he doesn't care, he wants it all. He's never been this consumed by someone, thinks it'll fade the more he fucks it out of his system. It doesn't work. There's always a next time, and a next, and a next. And every time he leaves wanting more.

O is for Wally's inability to be subtle when you're around. Overt, obvious, open stares of lust when you walk into a room regardless of who else is in it. His heartbeat quickens, his breathing shallows, and he feels like a mutt in rut. All dark eyes and desirous smirks, hands grazing your body when you get close enough. He thinks he's slick, secretive, getting away with murder. But the truth is, he couldn't hide how he feels about you if someone put a gun to his head.

P is for the pleasure Wally takes in pampering you. He's a gentleman like that. What makes you happy makes him happy and, fuck, he loves to dote on you. From opening car doors to surprising you with your favorite Starbucks order. Showering you in presents he thinks you'll fill out perfectly for him. His pretty little passenger princess; a precious paper doll that he dresses up like a gift just to unwrap immediately with greedy fingers.

Q is for the question Wally wants to ask but can't. The one that makes things official. That ties him to commitment and expectation. Ignoring that you're the only place he's getting his dick wet, he's not ready for that. Until he catches himself smiling—soft and fond and affectionate—when you send a text that has nothing to do with where you want him to fuck you next. And, ah hell, maybe he does want to ask. Too bad he doesn't have the nerve.

R is for how riveted, rapturous, fucking obsessed Wally is when you ride him. No matter what he claims—"your turn to do all the work, baby"—he can't hold back, always fucks up into you, flushed, panting, hands clenching your hips and stroking your thighs and squeezing your ass. He watches your body, sweet liquid movements as you ride his cock like a goddess, and comes faster than he otherwise would. But that's fine because Wally has the refractory period of a fucking nympho.

S is for those soft, sweet, silly moments that you share. The ones he coaxes out of you during the domestic lulls between fucks. He invited you over for the weekend, Janet at some friend's lake house and Wally's parents visiting his aunt one state over. Perfect timing. And it is all hard thrusts and pinned wrists and love bites on your thighs, but then it's jokes over pancakes. Forehead kisses as he holds you in the shower. Hand-holding while you walk to the gas station for snacks, his thumb sweeping the back of your hand like he loves you. Sentimental.

T is for the toys Wally loves to tease you with. He's not afraid to introduce other means of stimulation into the mix. He'll do anything if it makes you shake apart for him; if it'll make you whimper and beg for more before you plead for him to stop, too much, Wally, it's too much, I can't as he presses the vibrator against your clit. He never listens, too enraptured by the expression of pleasure on your face, the way your body responds for him, fuck, yes, "that's it, baby, come for me again, show daddy how good you feel."

U is for how uncharacteristic, unpredictable, underutilized Wally's control has become since he started this with you. He was the image of dark and dominant behind closed doors, but, three months in, he can't keep himself in check. If he has you—against a wall, in the backseat of his car, in bed, in the shower, in. on. against—his control snaps as soon as you make a single sound of wanting pleasure. He goes feral for those noises. They're his complete undoing. And he'd surrender everything you asked for just to hear them one more time.

V is for the voice notes you and Wally swap when you and he aren't together. When he hasn't had a chance to sneak away from Janet or football practice or homework in too long and he's desperate for release. He strokes himself to the tempo of your whimpers and sighs, fucks his fist when he gets to the edge before slowing down and switching voice to video. He loves to show you what you do to him, how heavy and flushed and thirsty he is for you. "Your pussy sounds so nice and wet...now show me how you want me to fuck you, baby."

W is for every whim and want Wally indulges. Of yours. Of his. Mostly of his. Gluttonous and gourmand. You want to taste caramel on his cock? Go for it, baby. He wants to get messy with whipped cream? Okay, daddy. He wants to tease you with vibrating panties while you're trying to eat at that new place on Lasher? Okay, daddy. He wants to tie you up and spank you because you came before he said you could? Fuck, yes, daddy! ... Good girl.

X marks the spot Wally hammers into at exactly the right angle when he's feeling generous. And he always feels generous with you. He's addicted to the way you look when you come. Because he did that. He made that happen. It's empowering and euphoric and he can't get enough even though he should've by now.

Y is a word followed by 'not'. A question you ask when Wally hoists you into his arms and pins you to the wall with his hips after one of the leads in the school play asks you out. He grinds against you, cock throbbing, head angry, and reminds you who you belong to; why you can't say yes to Alex Greenberg even though it's all pot kettle black. Still, as he tears your panties at the seam and fucks you with abandon, desperate and aggressive, he makes a convincing argument.

Z is for how it ends. With her, not with you, because Wally's too far into the addiction and wouldn't last a day without getting his fix. He needs you. Wants you. Fucking shit, he loves you. So it's goodbye Queen Bee Janet and hello to her silly, sexy bombshell of a step-sister. Wally has no regrets, his hand on your ass as he walks you into Prom, fist-bumping his friends and saluting the principal. He loses his crown and doesn't care at all, too wrapped up in you to notice. Hands on your hips, brow against his, fitted perfectly against him like a puzzle piece.

🧿___________________________

below are the links to the complete collection of Alphabet Soup. you can also find all related content HERE as well as reformatted chapters on AO3.

~ 🩵👻

Alphabetical Masterlist:

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Linear Masterlist:

B T K A F P V R M S D C I J H W N O E X G L Y U Q Z

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ermwhatthesigma

1 week ago

Mr.Martin: Rhonda is at that very special age where a kid only has one thing on their mind.

Wally: Boys?

Rhonda: Homicide

49 notes View Post

ermwhatthesigma

1 week ago

ayeee ik that cookie good

Marshmallow Miles

summary: prompt fill. Wally needs to get the hell out of Split River. thankfully, he finds the perfect excuse and takes you along for the ride. (request)

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut lite. fluff. AU - everybody is alive (zesty). lore established offscreen. same 'verse as Cuddle Bug.

bon reading, frens

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Marshmallow Miles

Wally spent the last 40 years haunting the high school. Then spent the last few months within the town limits, adjusting to being a regular student while he got his second chance at life organized. Principal Hartman, Ms. Chung, and Mrs. Moretz—the guidance counselor—banded together to help the formerly-dead reacclimate, and part of that means they all need to graduate.

Except, obviously, Mr. Martin, who Sheriff Baxter's keeping a tight leash on. Or Janet, wherever the hell she is.

Point being, Wally and his friends are still tethered to the place they hate most in the world. Even if there is a light at the end of the tunnel this time, they don't get to enjoy it until they walk across the stage, diplomas in hand.

Which means Wally? Is feeling somewhat-very claustrophobic. Skin too tight, walls closing in, suffocated and nauseous at the thought of having to spend another goddamn second in the town that killed him.

It's as he's listening to you, hanging onto your every word like psalms, that the idea strikes. Light. Bulb. Wausau? Claire's stepdad's ski lodge? You don't say!

He knows your birthday's coming up (Simon made sure to stick post-it notes in every single one of Wally's text- and notebooks to remind him) and he's been fretting over what to do for weeks. But this? This is it! Not only will Wally be able to celebrate you the way you deserve, doing something you seem genuinely keen on, he'll be able to put Split River in the rearview for a whole week.

Is it a little selfish to use your birthday as an excuse to escape? Kind of, sort of, maybe. But he's desperate to find out if he can have a life beyond this. Beyond Split River High and Number 57 and tragedy and discombobulating rise-agains. And the only person he wants to find anything out with, well, is you.

It's two-birds-one-stone, honestly, and don't you always praise his efficiency? Hell yeah, you do. His biggest fan. Besides, he will dote on you, treat you right, make you feel like the center of the universe because you are. At least, you're the center of his, and that's why he has to do this. To prove there's a future with him that has more potential than cultivating small town syndrome.

You catch him grinning that dopey little grin he gets when he's thinking about surprising you, but Maddie distracts you before you can question it. Which gives Wally the rest of lunch to plot into his tater tots.

Thank you, Maddie. Best wingwoman ever.

‗•‗

The plan comes together seamlessly. Everyone pitches in to help bring Wally's vision to life. Claire gives him the keys to her stepdad's lodge. Maddie and Charley morally support Wally as he shops for warm clothes in your size that he can smuggle in his own luggage so you stay in the dark for as long as possible.

Nicole and Rhonda, the unlikeliest of best buds, drag him into The Body Shop and Victoria's Secret—"imagine a romantic bubble bath after skiing all day?" Nicole coos. "Imagine undressing her on a bearskin rug in front of a fire." Rhonda smirks around her new vape.

That's. Really. All the convincing Wally needs to make a dent in the allowance Rodney gives him.

Wally even swallows his pride, puts on his most charming smile, and asks Xavier for his truck. He knows the only reason Xavier agrees is because it's for you, but still, a win is a win. With a general, "hurt her and I'll rip your balls off," from your platonic soulmate, Wally joyfully departs. Tosses the keys in the air and catches them, his chest feeling lighter than it has in decades.

Everything is packed in the truck and ready to go the night before. He called you earlier to impart the vaguest of instructions as to what you should bring, proud of himself for not giving anything away too soon. Even when you asked in that silly-sweet voice, pouting on the screen like a princess, "Please? At least give me a hint!"

No. No hints.

Like a child on Christmas, Wally can barely sleep, he's so excited, but he manages a few hours. Dreams of the world beyond Split River as if he's setting off on some grand adventure and not just driving a 3.5 hour span of state highway.

Tomorrow, Wally will experience a first. Something that was so far out of reach there was no point entertaining it because all it led to was disappointment and regret. Instead there were years upon years of distractions. Mock Trials and obituaries and looking at his feet when he should've looked back.

Wally sometimes wonders if those missed opportunities weren't the yellow brick road that brought him to you. Everyone else walked through The Door with him, but there's no sign of Dawn who crossed over. If Mr. Martin didn't do what he did, Wally might've moved on, and you and he wouldn't exist...

His heart lurches in his chest.

No sense ruminating. You have him. He has you. That's all that matters now. And tomorrow, Wally will have his first real taste of freedom with the only person he wants to share that moment with.

It's going to be perfect.

‗•‗

Wally picks you up just after sunrise. You're grumpy and sleepwarm and, Jesus, Wally loves you. Pouting at him like he's both a menace and your savior. Arms up, lower lip jutted out, a sweet demand of carry me before you slump into his embrace and force him to take your weight. Which he does, easily, big grin on his face as he toddler-carries you to the passenger side of Xavier's truck.

He bundles you in, sets you up with the softest blanket Claire found at Target—Yuri and Ajay not doing their jobs as devil's advocate at all as the cart filled up with Claire's suggestions. Honestly, Wally doesn't care. Especially not after your eyes brighten as you run your fingers over it, wiggling happily in your seat.

"You cozy, babygirl?" He asks as soon as he's behind the wheel and the smile you give him makes him fucking melt.

"You got me a blanket." You state, tucking yourself in more securely; shoes off, feet up, elbow on the console so you can lean over it and kiss Wally's cheek. "Thank you."

Wally blushes, he can't help it, and shrugs as if it's nothing. "I got you a bunch of things, baby," he says as he starts the truck, "Just wait and see. You're gonna feel like a princess, I promise."

You slip your hand into his, fingers laced, and he rests them on your thigh as he drives. Down the street, turn left, continue to the intersection of Main and 4th. Right on 4th, all the way to the end and then left on Pine. Drive until the highway onramp. Now Leaving Split River, We'll Miss You!

Oh God... Wally's heart pounds, blood rushing in his ears. This feels bigger than his first step off school property. Bigger than feeling air in his lungs and a drum in his chest after being hollow for so long.

Somehow, and Wally doesn't know how, you manage to talk him through pulling over, crawling over the console to plant yourself in his lap. Hands cradling his jaw, you press your forehead against his and guide him away from the edge of a panic attack.

"—got you, Wally, I'm right here, you're okay, shh, you're okay..." The steady cadence of your voice sharpens as his breathing regulates. He's holding you like a lifeline, arms fastened around your waist, heaving great gulps of air as he trembles slightly.

"I'm sorry, baby," He gasps and squeezes his eyes shut.

"Nuh-uh, no apologies, Wally Clark," You say firmly. There's a lull before you chuckle, gentle and kind, "Hey, this was a lot better than the night you first stepped across the school boundary line, right?"

Fuck, that was a mess. However, Wally wasn't alone when that happened. Charley and Rhonda and Yuri, Mr. Martin and Ajay, Mina, they were all there too, equally as overwhelmed. Rhonda threw up on Quinn's shoes. Charley passed all the way out. Yuri and Ajay were fine, fuck them, but Mina just...screamed. And then laughed. Then cried. Then screamed some more, listening to the sound ricochet off the surrounding buildings in a way it wouldn't have days before The Door.

Wally snorts, "Yeah. Sure," and finally peeks up at you. Your thumbs stroke his cheeks that he realizes belatedly feel damp. Is he crying? Weak. But you aren't judging him, simply gazing at him like he hung the moon; you're perfect person, the man you love most, and Wally's chest swells. "We're out of Split River," Wally croaks.

You beam at him, "We're out of Split River."

Holy fuck. He's out of Split River.

‗•‗

After climbing out of the truck to holler into the ether. To chase each other around the Now Leaving sign. To grab you, spin you around and fall into the grass as you and he laugh and laugh and laugh, Wally finally gets the show back on the road.

Once again, he tucks you into your seat, takes your hand, checks his mirrors and then pulls back onto the highway, the town that raised him then witnessed his death becoming a speck in the background with every mile marker you and he pass.

He lifts your hand, grazes a kiss to your knuckles, his eyes on the road and his mind on you and everything he has planned for this trip. At the halfway point, he stops for gas, shadows you as you browse the aisles for exactly the right snacks. Fondly gazes after you the whole time as you make tough decisions: Nerds or Twizzlers? Cookies or chocolate? Wally, do I want a vanilla or butterscotch pudding with my Oreos? Because that's a normal combination, what?

He's absolutely no help at all, too busy mooning over you as you flutter between the fridge and the chest freezer, babbling about how integral to your mood it is to pick the right snack. To cover for the fact that he isn't paying attention, Wally grabs a bag of marshmallows off one of the shelves when you call him out for not listening.

"These." He says, holding the bag up and then glancing at the graham crackers and Hershey's displayed at eye-level. "Maybe these?"

"You wanna make s'mores in the truck?" You ask, dubious.

"No," Wally saves himself, "Just these," and he jiggles the bag of marshmallows. They're the jumbo kind; the kind he used to bet his cousin Dennis to eat five of in one bite or else he couldn't play Wally's Magnavox Odyssey.

You consider the marshmallows for a moment and then, with a decisive nod, "And hot chocolate."

"And hot chocolate," Wally agrees, following you around the shop to the coffee station.

Wally pays for everything, hip-butting you (carefully, no spills) out of the way when you try to pass the cashier your card. He takes the bag and the tray of hot chocolate and still holds the door open for you with his heel. No fucking way is his princess lifting a finger on her birthday-slash-Wally's-freedom trip.

For every mile, you dip a marshmallow in your hot chocolate—dipping Wally's as well and feeding him, giggling when he nips or sucks the gooey sugar from your fingertips. It's silly and sweet and Wally basks in every second of it. Every second of your off-key singing, your trivia answers, your arguments over which is better, Thunderbirds or Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons.

"You know, I have been catching up on TV shows, right?" Wally laughs, "You can use better examples."

"What's wrong with puppets, Wally? Are you a pupaphobist?"

Wally barks a laugh, "That's not a thing!"

"It definitely is a thing," And you wield your phone, flashing Google as Exhibit A. "So? Are you? Just say it, you hate Jim Henson and everything he stood for."

And it's amazing. It's anything and everything and so much more than Wally could've ever hoped for. Even the quiet intervals when the sugar wears off and the early wakeup call catches up to you; your body curled up in your seat awkwardly just so you can angle yourself right to rest your head on the console and place Wally's hand in your hair.

Adorable little diva.

As you doze, Wally watches the scenery drift by, his lungs expanding more and more with every mile he puts between himself and Split River.

Eventually, he turns off the highway and onto the backroads without you noticing a thing. His fingers card through your hair, trace the shape of your jaw and cheek as he absorbs the softness of the moment and tucks it away behind his ribs. Safe and sound, to be pulled out and cherished when he's alone.

When he parks, he's reluctant to wake you. So, he doesn't. Not immediately. Rather, he spends a few minutes just resting himself, sinking down a little in the driver's seat. Then slants sideways, curls over and around you to kiss your ear, cheek, jaw.

He couldn't dim his smile if he tried, enamored when you protest at first, but then sigh, realize where you are and who you're with before groggily chuckling at Wally's antics.

"Surprise, baby girl," He whispers, letting you sit up so you can take in your surroundings.

The look on your face tells Wally he did a good job. The way you tackle him into the inside of his door and kiss him tells him he's going to have to start planning next year's surprise tomorrow, because, fuck yeah, this is exactly the reaction he's looking for.

Getting out of the truck and staring at Claire's stepdad's lodge; at the trees and the snow and the vast expanse of sky, it hits him again like a ton of bricks.

Holy fuck. He's out of Split River!

‗•‗

He doesn't wait to celebrate. As soon as he closes the door behind him, he reels you in, kisses you deep and hungry while you're only halfway out of your jacket. That's okay, he helps you get it the rest of the way off, along with everything else.

"Let me make you feel good, baby," He whispers against your skin, hands everywhere, his hips rolling into yours as he pins you to the wall beside the door. "Let me show you how much I love you..."

Wally kisses you deep, hungry, groaning into your mouth as he keeps grinding his hard cock against you, fuck, you get him going like nothing else. All you have to do is breathe in his direction and his pants tent.

Heat courses through him, curls tight in his belly and flushes outward to his limbs, God, he needs you. Now. Right fucking now, baby, come on. He carries you to the enormous kitchen island, peels your leggings and panties off and has his lips on you and tongue in you faster than you can cry out his name.

"So sweet, baby," He moans into your pussy, panting, not bothering to breathe in his greed for your taste and pleasure. "Fuck, I can't wait to be inside you."

He spears his tongue in and out of you before teasing little circles around your clit, his fingers plunging into you in place of his tongue. Wally could do this all day and never get tired; the sounds you make, the way you writhe and beg for him, Jesus, he can't imagine ever wanting anything else.

Cruel, desperate, he doesn't care what you call it, he stops right as you're about to come, shoves his sweatpants just below his balls and drags your hips off the counter to punch his cock into you. His head falls back as soon as he feels you around him, so tight and hot, "Fuck, yes, baby, so good for me."

And he sets a frenzied pace, unable to keep himself in check now that he has you like this. His fingers dig into your lovehandles, your legs hooked over his elbows. He's grunting, you're mewling your pleasure, and Wally about loses it before you do. But he doesn't. He's better than that, fucks you like a beast until you scream and shake and squirt around his cock.

It's game over after that. No way can he hold on, his body tensing, hips grinding, as he spills deep inside you. Carefully, he sits you more firmly on the counter and leans in to kiss you, soft, sated, a little blissdrunk in the afterglow. Bodies pressed together, slowly recovering, Wally strokes the arches of your cheeks with his thumbs and gives you a muzzy smile.

"You're my whole world, you know that?" He tells you and then captures your lips in a kiss that quickly turns heated, "I'll do anything for you, baby." Fuck, he's already getting worked up again, needs more of you, always needs more. "I'll die all over again if you asked me to."

"Wally..." You gasp when he rocks his hips forward, driving his cock back into you.

It's just after sundown before you and he finally check out what's beyond the open kitchen/living room space, the table and couch and ottoman and, shit, bearskin rug fully christened in sweat and come.

You and he jump on the beds with childlike glee, music blaring on speakers that cost more than Rodney's mortgage. Claire explicitly forbade Wally from using the master suite so, taking that into consideration, that's the first bedroom he fucks you in—from behind, driving his hips forward while he pulls you back against him. What? He'll do the necessary laundry.

If he remembers...

‗•‗

After a supper of haphazardly thrown together and grossly microwaved nachos, Wally snuggles you between his legs on one of the Adirondack chairs outside, under a thick blanket and dressed accordingly in the thermals and sweater and fuzzy socks he secretly bought and brought for you.

The fire pit blazes, the stars above twinkle, and the land around is a peaceful kind of dark. Not the ominous, suffocating dark Wally grew accustomed to in the confines of the school. The comfortable silence between you and him is accentuated by the crackle and pop of the fire, the scene so peaceful, Wally has to wonder if he ever experienced any such feeling before.

His arms tighten around you and he presses a kiss to your cheek from behind, watching the flames dance as you lance another marshmallow on your stick.

Tomorrow is your birthday and he intends to take you skiing. Or, when he knows you'll diplomatically decide to trade skis for slippers, he'll bring you back here at noon and spoil you rotten with presents and a homecooked meal; that bubble bath Nicole suggested (thank you, Nicole), and a long night on that bearskin rug (thank you Rhonda).

It's going to be an incredible week, he assures himself. And on Saturday, the others will arrive while he takes you into the resort town to explore so they can set up your big surprise party. Yuri will grill in a t-shirt, and Charley will force everyone to play '90s boardgames he died too soon to play, and Rhonda will make everyone take shots whenever Wally gives you heart eyes just to watch the messiness unfurl.

Claire will probably reprimand him for fucking in her parents' bedroom, but Wally doesn't care. Because it means he celebrated you right. That you and he had fun. That there's evidence of the fact that, for the first time in 40 years, holy fuck, Wally made it out of Split River!

🧁___________fin.____________

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if you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy Anxiety.

a smutty flashfic explaining how not. clingy. Wally is even when he thinks you're mad at him but won't tell him why.

Skirts and Skins

Summary: Wally begs to eat you out.

Author's Note: This might be trash. It's sat ion my drafts for weeks.

You were a glowing light in the dingey after life of Split River high. You died and somehow became the glue that held the ghosts together after Mr. Martin crossed over. It was just a few weeks after him crossing when you showed up. You were a bit disheveled after dying as any normal person would be but you were still so soft and unmarred by death. You had died in a fairly grim way. You had been helping hang a banner for a school dance extremely high up and had taken a nose dive into the gym floor after losing your balance.

Wally had been in the gym shooting some hoops and watching the livings as he did frequently when you had taken your tumble. He had ran to catch you if only he was alive you wouldn't have fell through his arms into the floor at his feet. You had woken up in the teacher's lounge after Wally had carried you away from the horrific scene. He didn't want you to see yourself like that after what he had seen in his own death.

It had been a few months since your death and you had all of the ghost enamored with your sweet but sassy attitude. Wally couldn't help that his cock twitched every time you sassed him or got grumpy with him. You were just so fucking cute. He had to mentally scold himself when his eyes would glue themselves to your thighs. His mind wandering to how good they would look around his ears or around his hips, how sweet you'd taste and how bossy you'd be. He'd give just about anything to be on his knees before you.

You had noticed Wally's need to please you. He hardly let you lift a finger. You could see how pleased he was after receiving your praise for helping out. You'd never had someone want to do things for you but you were enjoying it. It had you curious where the line was drawn with him. How far would he go to please you.

You had asked for something small like to tie your shoe. He immediately knelt down and placed your sneaker on his thigh. You had grabbed his shoulder to steady yourself. He was so warm under your fingers as you trailed your hand up to his dark hair playing with it gently. Wally felt chills run through his body at your touch. He couldn't help but lean into your hand as he tied your shoe carefully. Once he finished he carefully set your foot back onto the ground before glancing up at you. You were smiling down at him and playing with his hair as you said "Such a good boy for me." Wally's jaw dropped open and his cock hardened at the praise.

You watched his gaze turn desperate as he gently grabbed your calves to steady himself. "Let me take care of you. Please." He begged as his hands drifted to your knees. You smiled down at him "Gonna beg for it, Baby?" you teased him. His eyes closed savoring the pet name before opening again and giving you his best puppy dog eyes as he said "Please let me make you cum. I need it Princess. Can't think of anything but your sweet pussy. Driving me fucking crazy." You smirked down at him before shaking your head at his attempt. "Wally you've gotta try harder than that. Make it special or I am going to keep telling you no, Baby." You say as you run your hands through his hair again giving it a gentle tug before leaving him there on his knees.

You wanted to say yes more than anything but the satisfaction it brought you to have a handsome ghost on his knees for you was too tempting. Wally watched you walk away and his mind immediately thought about how he could make this special. You were special, he needed you to know that. He also had to know how you would feel under him. His palms itched to get your thighs back in them.

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Wally remained by your side but hadn't asked you again. You had however caught his gaze on you many times. He would disappear for a couple hours at a time and you couldn't believe how much you missed him in those hours but you never mentioned it to him. You would gravitate closer to him once he returned but he never noticed. He still took care of your every whim and would triple check you didn't need anything before he left. It warmed your heart and your center that he wanted to take such care of you.

He came back from his daily disappearance with a huge grin on his face. He walked right up to you and grabbed your hand, pulling you as he walked down the hall. You giggled as you stumbled behind him. He glanced back at you a few times his grin getting wider as he lead you to the fallout shelter. He turned to you right outside the entrance turning and saying "Close your eyes please." You raised your eyebrows at him. He walked behind you and covered your eyes with his big hands before guiding you through the door.

He uncovered your eyes and the fallout shelter had string lights circling the room, a blanket laid out on the floor, and a cute picnic basket in the center. You smiled back at Wally as he ushered you towards the blanket. He sat in one corner leaned back with his ankles crossed and you had lowered yourself across from him. "What's in the basket Wally?" You smiled over at him curiously. He smirked at you before sitting up "Open and find out for yourself, Princess." You opened the lid of the basket to find all of your favorite afterlife snacks and drinks with a tulip resting on the top of the food.

You picked up the tulip gently, spinning it in your fingers slowly as a big smile graced your lips. Wally melted as he watched your expression turn giddy as you pulled out snack after snack. You smiled at him through your lashes before saying "Wally this is really sweet. Is this all just to get in my pants?" He smirks at you "Not just to get in your pants. However it is definitely a perk." He teases.

You giggle and begin snacking away as he talks to you about anything and everything. After the both of you get your fill of snacks you begin repacking the basket for later. Wally inches closer to you, eyes glued to yours. "I want you in every since of the word, Princess." He says as his hand grazes your shin. He looks up at you for approval awaiting your response. You smile at him and push his shoulders so he is in a sitting position.

You crawl over to him straddling his hips as he looks up at you in a state of shock and awe. You giggle at him before leaning down and pressing your lips to his warm ones. As soon as your lips touch his hands are on you. They skim from your hips up your sides and back down before resting on your upper thighs. You don't pull away until your lungs begin to burn for air. He chases you with his lips not wanting the kiss to break. You giggle leaning your head against his. You feel his strong hands squeeze your thighs gently before he asks "What are you laughing about?" You giggle even harder as you hear his heavy breathing.

He grunts at you squeezing your thighs tighter before leaning back and giving you a goofy grin. You let your hands run up his neck into his thick hair. He lets out a deep groan that makes you squirm as you lightly scratch his scalp. You grind down into him attaching your lips onto his neck. He tilts his head allowing you more access to his neck as he grabs your hips pulling you into him. You can feel his hard length under you as you push further down on him.

He bucks his hip up into you before he tightens his grip holding you still. "Princess. I need to taste you please. Need it so bad." He begs as you continue your abuse of his neck. You lean back admiring the marks darkening on his neck before he lifts you off his lap and gently rests you on the blanket in front of him. "Just lay back Baby and let me take care of you." He says as his hands glide from your ankle to the bottom of your skirt, bunching it up around your waist.

He admires the wet patch on your pink cotton panties. He takes his letterman off bunching it up before resting it under your head as a pillow. "You comfortable Princess?" he asked as he started to slot himself between your legs. You nodded yes up at him before settling further into the blanket. "Fuck you are so perfect Baby." He groaned as he spread your legs farther apart. Your cheeks heated at the compliment as he gently ran the tip of his finger down your clothed slit. He leaned forward placing a kiss on your mound before dipping his fingers into your waistband and slowly tugging your panties off.

His breath caught in his throat at the sight of you glistening in front of him. He used his thumbs to spread you open, you squirmed slightly at the feeling of his hot breath on your bare pussy. His smirk widened as he looked up at you saying "Prettiest pussy i've ever seen. Even better than I imagined." You wet your lips with your tongue as he returned his attention to your center. He flicked his tongue along your clit dragging it down to circle your entrance before taking your clit into his mouth. He hummed at the taste of you causing a gasp to tear from your lips at the sensation.

You swear you could feel his smirk widen on you. He replaced his mouth with his pointer and middle finger rubbing in slow circles as he prodded your center teasingly with his tongue. He sped his fingers up and began thrusting his tongue into your center. A mewl escaped your parted lips as your fingers sank into Wally's hair pulling him impossibly closer to your center. He continued fucking you with his tongue until you got all cute and whiny. Once you were wet enough for him he attached his mouth to your clit and sunk his middle finger into you. You let a hiss out as his cold ring brushed against your center.

Wally couldn't help but to grind his hard cock against the blanket for some type of attention, his cock painfully hard from watching you writhe against his mouth. He adds another finger watching as your wetness pulls him in. You whine out as he curls them into your gummy spot. You swear you see stars as he continues to punish that spot with his fingers. "Gonna cum for me Princess?" He asks so muffled against your clit you almost don't know what he's saying.

He rolls your throbbing clit between his teeth gently while massaging that spot sending you over the edge with a cry. Your whole body tenses, back arching, fingers digging into the blanket, as Wally looks at you like your the prettiest thing he's ever seen spasming around his fingers. He gently removes his fingers bring them to his mouth with a groan. He licks them clean while you stare up at him blurry eyed and red cheeked with a dazed smile on your face. Once he finishes cleaning his fingers he climbs back up your body gently resting his hips against yours. "You okay Baby" he asks while gently grabbing your face so you focus on him.

You smile up at him "Yea Walls I'm good, really good. Want your cock now." Your hands begin to push down his sweats. His large hands grasp your gently as he looks up at you saying "We don't have to if you don't want to." You smile up at his sweetly before you pull your hands from him dipping them into his underwear and grasping his length in your hand gently. His forehead hits your shoulder as he grunts at the feeling of your cost hand wrapped around him. You begin to glide your hand up and down smearing his precum down his length. His hips buck into your hand before he pulls away from you making you release him. "Princess as much as I enjoy this if you keep touching me like that I am gonna cum in my pants and that would really really bruise my ego." he says with a pant while he kicks his pants and boxers off.

You smirk up at him before you maneuver your leg around him flipping onto your knees. Your chest rests against the blanket with your ass in the air. "Holy fuck." Wally grunts out at the sight of you, his hands reach forward squishing your ass cheeks in his hands before spreading you open. He spreads your legs farther apart before he drags his heavy cock through your folds and slapping the head against your throbbing clit. You whine out pushing your hips back against him causing his head to slip into your dripping center. You both moan out at the same time spurring him to sink farther into you.

He bottoms out resting there to allow you to adjust to his thickness. He is trying to do math to stop himself from pounding into you when you squeeze him so tight it sends him into a frenzy. His hips pull all the way out before slamming back into you all the way ripping a scream from your lips. He leans forward grabbing your hair into a ponytail and pulling you flush against his chest causing you to sink completely on him. He reaches around grabbing your jaw tight but not enough to hurt and pulling you to look at him over your shoulder. He makes sure you are looking at him before saying "Tell me this is what you want. Tell me right now if you need me to be gentle otherwise I am going to ruin you." You clench around his cock at the thought before saying "Ruin me please." while looking up at him batting your pretty eyes and fuck he's gone.

He kisses you roughly before he pushes your face into his jacket and ramming into you. Your moans are ruffled by his jacket as he pulls you back onto his cock by your ponytail. The sensation of him pulling your hair and bruising your insides have you teetering over the edge. Wally feels you tighten around him and speeds up his thrust getting the both of you to the edge. You moan out each others names as you cum together. You whine at the sensation of his warmth filling you.

He gently lets go of your ponytail and pulls out of you with a grunt of protest. He pulls his shirt off before gently flipping you onto your back and cleaning you up with the gentlest touches. You lay there watching his attentive nature as he pulls out another blanket unfurling it before covering you up and then attending to himself. He grabs your favorite candy and a water from the basket before he asks you to sit up. He gets behind you so that your head is against his chest and hands you the opened water and candy before tugging the tie out of your hair and gently massaging your head. You whimper out at the sensation feeding candies to the both of you. "Did so good for me Baby. You feeling okay? Anything you need?" he says quietly while playing with your hair.