A Heated Make Out (that Could Lead To More) With Harrison

TS4 Y2K LookBook

1 - Hair | Top | Ed Hardy Jeans | Shoes |

2 - Hair | Muffs | Jacket | Jeans | Boots |

3 - Hair | Hat | Top | Pants | Shoes |

4 - Hair | Top | Shorts | Socks | Slippers |

Tattoos here & here

Thank you so much to all of the wonderful cc creators 🖤 | @b0t0xbrat | @charonlee | @jius-sims | @madlensims | @bhromealone | @babyetears | @daylifesims | @simstrouble | @trillyke |

https://twitter.com/sensuaislut/status/1780731800559435784?s=46&t=FVSfwGrbgKpzb7P9IxGHdA

pop and lamb!reader

.~ 🍮

this video is so cute 😖 because you know he'd spend the whole time asking her if it feels good knowing damn well she can't speak or else the craziest moan is gonna come out her mouth

𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊 | 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | jj maybank x fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | cursing, mentions of domestic abuse, sad jj, y/n fucks a bitch up. idk i wrote this girl as, like, the stereotypical mean girl and the feminist in me hates that i wrote her that way :(

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | y/n had been there to take care of jj’s wounds ever since discovering they shared the same secret spot. when she doesn’t show up for the first time ever, jj goes out of his mind. especially when she finally returns, except this time she’s the one covered in bruises.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 |  thank u so so much liane ( @pogueslandia​ ) for helping me shape this fic, it definitely wouldn’t be the same without u <3 — and sasha ( @mrs-cameron ) for making me realize it’s okay to write other stuff, too <3

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5.8k.

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Happy 800! As much as I love dressing up, I do love a dressing down even more. So hows about soft fluffy smut in old t-shirts and tea-stained shorts, and tom finding you absolutely beautiful anyway? 💕

Ugh fluffy smut is my favorite 😩

18+ Warnings: SMUT, soft smut though, protected sex, hand holding, forehead kisses

800 Thirst Night - Inbox

Tom has you on the bed, back against the headboard and legs spread wide. Your old shorts from who knows how long ago discarded on the floor next to the bed.

Tom’s never been a boob guy so not taking off your shirt has become a regular thing; though you can’t imagine how he could be into you with the old ripped tee covering his view.

He’s noticed your hesitation as he slid in between your legs; he’d just finished rolling the condom down his length and was lined up with your entrance.

“Darling?” he asked gently, “what’s wrong?”

“I just don’t know how you could like this outfit, thought you would’ve ripped it off immediately,” you whispered.

“No, no, no,” he soothed, “love you in anything,” he smiled, “you’re always beautiful to me.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “still wanna go ahead?” he asked against your temple.

“Yeah,” you smiled, feeling him push inside as soon as the word left your mouth.

You felt his breathy moan against your skin, your hand finding his now free one and locking on for dear life.

He started to thrust slowly, savoring your body, “love you, always,” he whisper-moaned.

“Love you too,” you breathed back before finding his lips with yours.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Warnings: Smut of all kinds, this is filthy and sad, angst, like heartbreaking angst

Word Count: 1.7k

A/n: Anon requested this one! "Can you please do a Rafe Cameron imagine where the reader is a Pogue and has a secret friends with benefits with Rafe, which was going well until they started catching feelings for each other and became increasingly jealous. Thank you so much!" I love this angsty, smutty, fluffy thing- it's so fun.

"Rafe, fuck." I breathe, face crashing onto the bed as he drills into me from behind, large hands bruising my hips as he thrusts in and out of me with an evil laugh.

"Talk to me, baby." He coos, his voice the opposite of his rough touch as his hand soothes up my spine to wrap his fingers around the back of my neck, pulling me back against him, my back flattening against his chest.

"Feels so good." I grit, tears billowing behind my eyes as I reach out to wrap my arms around his neck, fingers fisting some of his hair while I try desperately to ground myself to him- to anything. "You're so deep."

"Wanna be deeper." His lips skim desperately against my chest as he searches for my lips, our lips meeting in a messy kiss that seems to satisy both of our hunger to be impossibly closer. "Missed you all day. I wanted nothing more than to be between these thighs- most perfect fucking place in the whole goddamn world."

"I-"

"What was that? Couldn't hear you." Rafe cuts me off, hand slipping down the front of my body to play with my clit, rubbing fast circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves with no remorse, my jaw dropping in a loud moan. My head falls back against his shoulder, unable to hold myself up anymore as I slump against him.

"Fuck you." I hiss, gripping onto anything I can, feeling Rafe's hand flatten on my back as he presses me against the mattress once more, the slapping of his hips against mine and the low music are the only things to be heard in the room.

"That's what you're doing, sweetheart. You want more?"

"Yes, more, please." I beg, fingers twisting up in the sheets as I can feel my orgasm sneaking up on me, heat spreading throughout my core as my legs begin to tremble.

"Greedy fucking girl." I tip over the edge with a dropped jaw, feeling Rafe right behind me as he spills into me, his whole body hunching over mine as he groans loudly, fingers leaving bruises in my waist as he catches his breath.

I've barely registered that he's slipping out of me and slipping on his shirt when I'm coming out of my post-orgasm haze, my hands rubbing at my eyes as I beg myself to ask him for a hug or something, anything to show that he cares about me but he just turns to me, holding his hand up.

"I'll see you at the party?" I give his extended hand a high five with a half assed nod, clutching the shirt he tosses my way to my chest.

"That's all?" I ask with a breathless sigh, tilting my head dumbly at him.

"Anything else you want?"

"A kiss." He laughs at my puckered lips and his eyes roll in fake annoyance but there's still a shit eating grin on his lips as he leans down towards me.

"Ugh, I guess." He whines, pressing a longing kiss to my lips, lingering a bit before giving my nose a peck. "See you later, sweetheart."

--

I watch them from across the room, the pretty blonde seated atop Rafe's lap with no hesitation, pouring a shot between his lips. Kie is talking to me but I'm not listening to a word she's saying, my eyes locked on Rafe and Rafe alone as he shoots me a wink.

I'm on my feet in a moment, jealousy consuming me and I no longer can bare looking at him and feeling the possessiveness that I'm consumed by and I make it out to the driveway by the time I feel Rafe's fingers wrapping around my wrist, tugging me back into him.

"Hey, hey, hey, where are you going?" He asks, trying to reach up to cup my cheeks but I bat him away, shoving him away from me with an angry groan.

"I'm leaving, Rafe." I try to fumble with my keys to start my car, pressing the alarm button so I can find it in the sea of cars but Rafe snatches my keys from me and holds them over my head. Asshole.

"C'mon- fuck, stop. Come back to the party, we'll have some fun." He offers with a sickly sweet smile. "Wanna fuck?"

"Rafe-"

"C'mon, let me fuck that attitude right out of you." His hands slide down to my hips, pulling me flush against him and he almost convinces me to stay just from the look in his eyes.

"I'm not in the mood." I huff, smacking him away again as his brows furrow deeply, hands now settled at his side, his eyes uncomfortably sweeping over my tense frame.

"You're always in the mood."

"Yeah well I'm in a mood, just not the one you want me to be in." I smile bitterly, going to turn around again but he runs in front of me, blocking my way and my view of the cars in the distance.

"Hey," he whispers softly, "talk to me." I can feel tears bubbling behind my eye lids as I stare down at the blacktop, thinking of what to say to him to get him to go away, not wanting to confront him and my feelings at the same time.

"You should be careful, wouldn't want you to be seen with me."

"I- what?" He turns his head to look back at the party with a scoff, eyes squinting under the bright sun that's setting above us. "You really think I care about that? That other people care about that?" He asks and I nod, sticking to my gut, settled on pushing him away the best that I can. "I think the disputed narcissism and coke addiction will upset people before me fucking a pogue upsets anyone."

"I can't do this right now." I scoff, stepping away from him as his face pales in fear and I feel my aching heart drop to my stomach.

"You're really freaking me out." He breathes shakily. "Are you dumping me?" If I didn't know him any better, I'd think he was wounded and actually hurt by the mention of no longer seeing me and based on the redness in the whites of his eyes, I'm starting to doubt how much I know him.

"Nothing to dump, there's nothing between us, right?" I lie.

"Right." He looks as if I slapped him across the face, his jaw clenching as he takes a tentative step away from me with a deep frown. He scoffs once more before spinning around on his heel and he begins to walk away but turns right back around. "You know what- fuck you." He juts a finger in my direction and I feel my heart sink to my stomach. "I don't open up, I don't keep people around unless I want to." He finally cracks, tears filling his eyes in frustration. "I keep you around because I want to keep you around!"

"Go keep Ashely around or whatever that bimbo's name is."

"You're jealous." He breathes, a lonesome tear slipping down his cheek as my lips part in quiet shock, feeling overwhelmingly stupid all of a sudden that he's able to read me so easily, as if he actually knows me.

"Fuck you."

"You're jealous because you like me and don't want to admit it." He reaches out to me, wrapping his fingers around my upper arms in an attempt to keep me close to him and I don't fight him, feeling frustrated tears lift to my eyes as I frown, not wanting to talk about this right now.

"How could I like you?!" I screech but he grins like a fool, hands reaching up to cup my cheeks in his hands, pulling my body flush against his. "You're brutal, you leave bruises on me every time we fuck which is so annoying, there's absolutely nothing affectionate about you-"

"So, what? You want me to be gentle?" He asks softly, almost as a coo, lip jutting out in a gentle pout as he presses a kiss to my lips, leaving me hanging on the edge, waiting for him to kiss me desperately again after almost losing me.

"You're incapable of being gentle." I whisper against his lips, knowing my words are fake because he's being so soft, so gentle as he kisses my cheeks, back and forth.

"That a bet?" He asks with a wicked smile and I smile bashfully.

"Rafe."

"C'mon." He pleads. "I'm sorry." His words are a whisper against my lips, a pleading, desperate whisper and I nod, apologizing too under my breath. "I want to keep you around, don't want you going anywhere." He holds me as if his words are true, arms wrapped tightly around my back and I smile, letting myself fall into him, no longer mad. "Tell me what I have to do to keep you around."

"Stop fucking hiding me." I whisper against his neck and he nods with a hearty laugh and I can already hear him making fun of me before he even opens his mouth.

"So you wanna be my girlfriend?" He teases, soothing a hand down my back as he grins wolfishly.

"How disgustingly cheesy."

"Hmm?" He hums, finding my eyes again as I soften a bit, giving him a gentle nod. "What do you want? You want everyone here to know I'm yours?" There's a fire behind his eyes that only deepens as I nod desperately, wanting nothing more than for every girl here that's chasing after him to know better than to look at him. "Well I am. Have been since we started fucking."

"Shut up." I giggle, nervously tucking my face in the crook of his neck.

"Shut me up."

my valentine without the word ㆍ୨୧ㆍ wally clark x fem!reader

summary: being boyfriend and girlfriend spirits were easy; they were able to touch, able to feel each other, see each other and everything! but, what wally didn’t think of was the fact every valentine’s day, he can’t ask her to be his valentine since that’s the day she died.

warnings; mentions of y/n death, bubbly! reader, clueless! reader, sweet! reader, wally being a yearner, extreme fluff and soft ending, awkwardness a bit, make-out but no smut

a/n: HEY YALL..but anyways i wanted to write a little wally fic for valentine’s day bc I YEARN FOR HIM ITS SO BAD STOP STOP MAKE IT STOP

sitting on the top bleachers with their hands holding one another, wally pressed his lips against y/n’s sweet and tender ones, she smiled into the kiss and hummed when he let his hand wander and pulled her waist closer to his body.

this was their morning routine, afternoon routine, evening and night. every day they’ll find some alone time and cuddle up with each other, losing time and energy in each other and finding comfort in one another.

today was different, it felt different, the atmosphere was totally off and wally didn’t know what it was, every couple was kissing somewhere, there were pink balloons, heart shaped and all.

he knew exactly what today was, but couldn’t do anything about it.

pulling apart as she kissed his cheek, y/n heard her name be called by sarah, another ghost who’d died from choking on her cucumber at lunch ten years ago, she was nice and sweet, wally didn’t know her personally, but y/n talked about her a lot and he’s bound to listen to every and anything she says.

‘oh, i guess i gotta go, i promised sarah i’d talk to her today, i’ll see you later?’ y/n hummed and tilted her head to the side as wally smiled deeply and pushed his lips against hers one last time, for now

‘okay but promise we’ll meet up in the teachers lounge, i heard words that there’s some cute decor there. I know you’ll love to see’ he smiled as she squealed.

y/n loved anything sweet, soft, kind and gentle. she was bound to date a jock, if they were still alive, he wouldn’t put it past himself that he wouldn’t go for her.

‘okay! i’ll hold you too that’ she smiled and pulled away from his grasp, walking down the bleachers and running to sarah.

sighing he leaned back—‘did you ask her yet?’ yelling and turning to see charley he groaned and rolled his eyes.

‘no..why would i? that’d be a different level of fucked up..i don’t want her to think about it’ wally sighed and looked at the door that y/n had left out of.

‘think about what? valentine’s day? it’s the most cute day for couples, expressing love, kissing each other, holding each other, whispering sweet nothings—‘

‘remembering the day you died on…’ wally looked at charley who left his mouth agap, frowning his eyebrows and gasping.

‘wait, she died on valentine’s day? the sweetest girl, bubbly, nice, beautiful, kind, loving, and supportive girl died on valentine’s day? how even…’ he was confused, y/n shared how she died in an embarrassing and traumatic way never when she died especially on this day.

‘yeah..she never told you?’ wally turned and was shocked, he’d assumed she told everyone by now, it’s been years, but he wouldn’t if he were her.

‘no..no? what happened? if you can tell me’ he wanted to know, charley needed to know, if it was so embarrassing it would probably cure him from being a gay who died of a nut allergy.

‘well..i mean..if i tell you, you didn’t hear this from me! i don’t want to tell you but she said she’d tell you guys more about it tomorrow so ill tell you’

‘okay! okay! just yeah..tell me everything’ he got comfortable next to wally and waiting for him to start it.

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

walking down the school hallway with her hair in a half up half down and a bow on the hair tie, y/n hummed and smiled to herself while she thought about her secret love letter she got in her locker.

she was a huge romantic and seeing that made her whole day, her whole valentine’s day.

the letter had said—

to the most beautiful girl in school, i want to confess my love to you but im afraid. afraid of what you’ll think of me and afraid of what you might say. meet me behind the school after school so i can confess my deep love and affection for you, y/n l/n, my sweetest memory.

from your secret admire.

she was star struck, she heard rumors of people having a crush on her but she never listened to the because they never said anything to her directly, she loved love and wanted to feel it more than anything, but hearing rumors and fake news made her dislike love from school more than anything.

it was the last period and she’d been drawing hearts on her paper, red and pink. smiling to herself while holding the letter in her pink knitted pocket.

wondering to herself who could it be? what does he look like, or what does she look like? are they tall or short? silly or serious? dangerous or nothing like it?

she was in a daze.

at the end of the day, waiting in her deep red car, she sat and waited, everyone leaving the premise, the sun setting and the moon coming to show its softness, she was nervous.

getting out of her car and walking to the back of the school, she looked down to see red rose petals on the ground and smiled wide, her face warming up and her eyes shining.

following the rose petals she looked up and smiled at the huge letters of ‘would you be my valentine’. gasping and giggling to herself whilst looking at the table of heart shaped chocolates and flowers she touching them softly.

‘y/n?’ turning around she jumped and suppressed a gasp. what was he doing here? was this allowed?

‘mr. smith..i’m sorry i—‘

‘no no..don’t apologize..besides i’m the one who asked you to be here’

what.

‘i’m sorry?’ she knew exactly what he meant.

‘it’s just..i know that this isn’t normal but i know that this is real, what i feel for you? it’s all real, and i know you love me too, you show it all the time! smiling, laughing at me, staying after class—‘

‘mr.smith..i’m..no? i’m sorry i don’t understand..i stay after class for help on my work i don’t—‘

‘no no no don’t play with me i know what you feel i know it’s real, i know that you love me, i love you just as much, even more if anything!’ He stepped closer as she stepped back, hitting the table of flowers and chocolates.

how long did this take him to plan, did he really feel this way for her, she’s sixteen for heaven sake and he’s forty nine, he has a wife and she’s pregnant, where did she go wrong.

‘mr.smith please..i need to get home—‘

‘no!’

jumping she gasped and held a hand over her mouth as he tried to calm himself, breathing in and out with his eyes closed he shook his head—‘no..you haven’t even touched your chocolates yet..please..just..please’ sighing she walked sirius the table to that it was between him and her.

‘i’d i eat this..will you let me go home..please’ she begged. he looked like he was thinking to himself, weighing out the options and signing.

‘of course!’ she sighed and gulped, picking up a milk chocolate heart and slowly pushing it into her mouth she chewed, and swallowed.

‘there..now—‘ gulping while she felt something in her body move, almost as if something just shut down, she closed her eyes and hummed.

‘sh sh sh..’ walking to y/n who kept opening and closing her eyes she frowns and groaned, her whole body felt so heavy, out of place and like water.

what..she’d be drugged of course.

a popular teacher amongst the town who fell in love with his sixteen year old student just confessed his love. of course he knew the odds of her returning them, that’s why he did this.

‘mr…’ she hummed and almost fell but he caught her body, his hand on her cheek to hold her head up as her light pink kitten healed foot bent, losing her balance. the only thing keeping her afloat was his grip around her waist and his hand on her neck and face.

‘it’s okay my sweet, it’s alright, sh sh sh’ he brought her body down on to the stage floor. his knees present against the wood as she was passed out cold, her mind shut down completely and he shoved more chocolate down her throat.

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

‘the last thing she remembers is waking up in the stage floor and the whole room was empty, her body was sore and she said it felt like she was walking on nothing. later that week she’d even ignored by everyone and anyone, her parents had come to look for her even when she yelled in their face that she was right there.’ wally clutched his fist in anger and sorrow for her.

charley sat there in pure silence and shock, the overwhelming feeling of pity filled his every being. horror and sadness were very apparent in the both of them.

‘then the next week after that, she’d started hearing rumors about her death, that she was strangled, and shoved in the back of the costume room. the autopsy report being overdose, the last thing she ate being chocolate..every time she sees one she gets physically sick..’ wally shook his head as he remembers the time she ran out of the room when a student dropped a box of chocolate in front of her and she wasn’t seen for the rest of the day until he visited her.

‘he was caught, a month later, in a room filled with her pictures and a lock of her hair in his grip, supposedly he still keeps it to this day in jail’ wally finished off as he looked at charley who’s been shut down.

his mouth hung open and his eyes watching wally.

‘but..does she know he’s still alive?’

‘yeah, of course she does, she listens to the teacher lounge every day for any news about him dying, she reads the newspapers and watches the news when it’s on’ wally stood up and walked down the bleachers with charley following.

‘so wait, i understand how fucked up and traumatic that is but why won’t you just ask her to be your valentine you know? without the fancy decorations, without any sweets or anything, what about like..pizza? or a hot dog?’ he suggested.

‘nah..i don’t want her to hear the word from me at least and get any form of flash back, i couldn’t fathom it if i cause her pain in any way even if its involuntary..I just wanted her to have a sweet day without anything happening.’ wally walked as charley followed.

there weren’t many places to go but at the moment the cafe was the hot spot, y/n had been off somewhere, post likely the acting class with sarah still.

‘well i don’t think if you say “will you be my valentine” without saying it, she’ll have any kind of flashback’ he suggested.

wally turned and was interested.

‘how do i say it without saying it?’

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

walking down to the teachers lounge as wally fixed his hair, he straightened his back and cracked his neck.

charley’s words ringing and replaying in his head as he saw her.

standing with her small heeled shoes; pink knitted sweater and white dress, her hair tied back and with a bow, she turned and smiled.

‘wally!’ walking fastly to him and wrapping her arms around his neck he smiled and held his hand on her small back, holding it and kissing her deeply.

she smelt so nice every time he was around her. her whole being was enough to be a drug for him if anything.

‘aw did you miss me today?’ he teased as she nodded with a smile.

‘i was thinking about you all day! i wanted to ditch sarah and come to you so bad but i didn’t want to be a bad friend’ she laughed as he did as well, his arms holding her against himself.

‘i was thinking about nothing but you, i wanted to do something for you..something small, y’know. for our day’ he smiled, trying to avoid the words, the day, today, and valentine’s day.

‘awh, our day? what do you have planned’ she wondered; tilted her head to the side while her earring hoops moved as well.

‘come on!’ He tugged her hand and lead he outside.

walking to the garden that the school had, he opened the door and they sat down on the silver bench, it was a bit chilly but the breeze settled it evenly.

‘you wanted to come outside?’

‘yeah, i mean, it’s a nice day, the flowers have bloomed, look’ she turned from his eyes and looked at the pink flowers on the ground. gasping she smiled at them.

‘oh, this is sweet’ she smiled and turned to wally who looked like he was suffocating.

‘baby you okay—‘

‘but y’know, we can also go to the lounge, any classroom, the rooftop! it doesn’t matter, or our favorite secret spot?’ he grinned and pressed his nose against hers and smiled while he kissed her softly.

she smiled into it but frowned and pulled away.

‘wait, so your not going to ask me?’ she pulled away while looking at his lips, her pointer finger touching his chin while her eyes then moved up to his own.

‘..ask you what?’ he asked dumbly

‘wally..you know what’ she scolded, her eyebrows frowning—‘wally come on..’

‘i can’t! you know i can’t and i won’t!’ he shook his head while she placed a hand on his cheek.

‘wally..’

‘no y/n i’m serious. if i bring up anything, any pain, any memory; any regrets and trauma i will lose myself and i can’t do that to you because i can’t hurt you. i can’t..’

‘wally…your not hurting me by asking me to be your valentine..you never ask me! this is the sixth year you didn’t ask me! i let the other five pass because i wanted you to say it without me saying anything but please..it’s cute! it’s a beautiful day it’s..it’s not why i died..’ she whispers the last part; his eyebrows pulling together.

a small frown on her lips as she let her fingers play with his ear, a weird calming touch for him and a note for her to let her know he was there.

‘i didn’t die because of valentine’s day i just so happened to be killed by some weirdo who thought i liked him..im over thinking about it..i want you to be my valentine if you’ll have me?’ she smiled at the final part and he smiled back, laughing and nodding as she hummed.

‘yeah?’ she encourages as he nodded more—‘yes..yes, will you be my valentine?’ he smiled as his lips brushed hers and she nodded with a smile.

‘of course wally clark’ pushing herself into his lips as he closed his eyes, he hummed and held the back of her neck, their kiss deepening and her hands touching his chest and neck.

pulling apart to breath into each others mouth before pushing back into it, wally leaned back onto the bench and let y/n on top of him, her hand on his chest and his holding her waist.

she smiled as he groaned a bit. moving her face and nibbling his neck.

gripping her waist and resisting the urge to push his hips up against hers. she smiled and whispered—‘i’m not afraid of chocolates anymore, you can get me some of those too’ he smiled as she hovered over his face and leaned down to kiss her sweet.

holding the neck of his valentine .

make some noice y’all!

Why is like every account I’ve ever blogs on here deactivated

Ughh

Wreck It Like A Rumor

summary: prompt fill. Wally saves you from a joke gone terribly wrong the night of the Homecoming dance. what unfolds after is a friendship you desperately cling to as you try to survive the rest of term... what you don't know is that Wally Clark is deader than a doornail until you learn it the hard way. (request)

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut lite. AU - canon divergence. CWC (canon what canon). single mention of a mental health slur. attempted assault. protective behavior. angsty themes. hurt/comfort. bullying. HEA.

note: author hasn't watched S2. all knowledge of new content comes exclusively from GIFs on this platform. (i got tired of filtering Wally content. he's my babe. i am weak.)

bon reading, frens

___________________________🐦‍🔥

Wreck It Like A Rumor

They disguised themselves as friends.

You should've known when the one person out of the group you considered a sister—the girl you'd glommed onto in elementary, who'd been by your side through every shitty thing that'd unraveled your life at the time. You know, your real friend—started acting shifty.

Eyes down, nervous laugh, not giving you a straight answer when you asked her if she was okay.

"Help! Anyone, please! Let me out of here!"

You pound your fist against the door, tears streaming down your face. Mascara smudged, nail polish chipped, kicking and banging and screaming until your skin is red and blotchy.

It's Homecoming. You never went to the dances, tend to avoid a lot of high school social events like the plague since everyone in your grade (and others) treats you as if you're contagious.

But it's junior year, and your best friend begged you to join her as her ride or die since she wasn't super comfortable with her new group of friends yet.

You threw caution to the wind and said yes.

For Oli. Olivia Hazelwood. The awkward daughter of Split River's old-money elite couple, Henry and Marion Hazelwood. You and Oli were awkward together. Outsiders who found a home in each other. You shared everything with her and thought she did the same, but now you question how true that was.

Because, along with her new friends—who she insisted were your new friends, too—she'd locked you in the secret fallout shelter in the school basement.

Cruelty packaged as a practical joke.

You heard Travis cackle to the others before calling through the door, "Get comfortable, it'll be a while 'til the janitor comes to get you!"

It's fucking Friday. You don't know Mr. South's schedule—hell, you don't know if he even knows about the fallout shelter—but you assume he won't be back until Monday like the rest of the staff.

Someone will do a walk-through, you tell yourself, gasping for air as you pace around the space. It's dark, the only light coming from the weird dashboard on the clunky equipment lining one wall.

How Travis and the others found out about the fallout shelter isn't a mystery. You told them, stupidly, when you were trying to bond with Elitzia and Marybelle. Split River trivia you'd collected through hyperfixation research. Hours spent diving down rabbit holes after binging Fallout with Oli over a weekend.

Nuclear winter. Chernobyl. Bunkers. The Cold War.

God, why'd you say anything? Should've kept your mouth shut. Should've known that Travis and his friends weren't actually trying to buddy up, because you're still the school pariah.

After all, you gave Jake Tremblay crabs after you rejected him in 9th. You were a homewrecker and forced yourself on Matt Wilson when his girlfriend caught him shoving his unwanted hand up your skirt. You told Claire Zomer last year that you liked to wear diapers and be bottle-fed like a baby as a result of neglectful parents after you refused to do her English homework.

The mill churned out rumor after rumor, and though you tried to fight it at first, it became too much. Like squashing an ant hill. You stopped, people lost interest when you didn't react, but those rumors still circulate.

Sometimes, new ones join the rotation depending on who you piss off just trying to make it to the last bell.

Oli was the only person who stood by you until Elitzia extended her friendship.

Now you're alone. Stuck in the creepy fallout shelter in the dark. Suffocating on shadows as you double back to the door and start banging your palms against it again. Oli knows you're claustrophobic. She was there when you trusted Sarah Thompson in 5th Grade and climbed into her toy chest.

What is so other about you that makes people hate you so much?

You gulp in harsh breaths, sobbing out exhales, losing energy quickly as you smack and bang the door. You can't hear the music, but you know it's still loud, the dance in full swing two floors above.

"Please," You cough, shaking, "Please, let me out..."

‗•‗

Wally sighs. Tonight's been one giant letdown. He doesn't know why he got his hopes up, especially since it's been obvious from the get-go that Maddie isn't ready for the things Wally wants to try with her. Romance. Dates. Hand-holding and affection and inside jokes.

He understands. Of course he does. Maddie's new-dead. She was murdered. She and her best (and very alive) friend are trying to solve the case, to help her remember so she can find closure or whatever.

Why would she want to take a break from that and hang out at a dumb dance with Wally? Who's been trapped in limbo for the last forty years; same four walls, same seven faces to interact with. Same. Same. Same. Same. Fuck.

It's fine. It's totally fine.

As he lies on the grass, staring up at the stars, the quiet outside giving him space to sulk, he hears it. Bang. Help! Bang bang bang. Please!

It's faint, no louder than a breeze, but consistent. Wally gets to his feet and tries to follow the sound. Back into the school, down the steps, along the first-floor hallway to the basement door. It muffles for a moment when he goes the wrong way, toward the janitor's office, so he backtracks and hurries deeper into the bowels of the school.

Despite having the run of the place, no holds barred, he hasn't been this way before. Never saw a reason to go to the boiler room, not even after Maddie took a seat at the Afterlife Support Group.

The sound loudens, banging and muted pleading, someone clearly in distress. Wally slows his steps as he nears a door he's never seen before. It's old, white paint peeling, made of metal. It shakes when whoever's behind it starts slamming their fists again. Renewed vigor, higher-pitched agony, "Please!! Anyone!!?"

Wally scans the outside of the door for a latch or handle and notices the deadbolts attached to the top and bottom of the doorframe. Quickly, he undoes them and yanks the door open, stumbling back when a figure slumps out.

Small. Trembling. A girl whose makeup is stained with tearstreaks and whose eyes are bloodshot, her skin pale from fright. She's breathing heavy, sniffling, rubbing the back of her wrist under her nose as she gradually calms.

"Uh..."

And that's as much as Wally gets out before she's on her feet, arms around her middle, shoulders up. She takes one look at Wally, mumbles a wet thanks, and then charges through the boiler room, down the corridor, and out of the basement.

Wally's stunned. Because he knows for a fact that that girl is alive.

Not only did she look right at Wally, she spoke to him. Like, to his face. Eyeballs met eyeballs. For the first time in a long time, Wally was part of the living world again.

"No freaken way..."

‗•‗

You keep your head down as you walk toward your locker. Headphones on, blaring angry music to quell the crash and surge of emotion inside you. You're embarrassed, humiliated, hateful. Rightfully so, you think, because the last person in the world you trusted betrayed you in the worst way you can imagine.

Oli tried to apologize over the weekend. A novel of a text that repeated several times how sorry she is about what happened. How she didn't know that was the plan. I swear, I thought they were just going to close the door for a minute.

So why didn't you come back?

She never answered. Either ashamed of her non-actions or annoyed that you won't forgive her as easily as you used to, you don't care.

The guy who saved you—tall, handsome, dressed like a silverscreen leading man—looked just like someone that group kept in the middle of their circle-jerk. Which was why you didn't stick around to thank him properly. He was probably just a little less bad; has what amounts to a conscience for those assholes, and decided to cut the joke short out of guilt.

Definitely a senior, you figured, since you didn't recognize him from your class.

Makes things easier. You intend to steer clear of him just like you will the others. You've got enough on your plate, the newest rumor sticky-tacked to your locker when you finally arrive.

Crybaby got herself locked in a room and couldn't get out! Accentuated with photoshopped baby bottles and crying emojis.

It's stupid. Juvenile. But it burns. You tear the paper off your locker, crumple it up, and march to the trash to shove it through the lid. Even through your music, you can hear the chorus of laughter. Some of it nervous, as if going along with it to avoid the same attention Travis and his cronies give you. Some of it hearty and genuine.

You swallow your discomfort and go back to your locker, wrench the lock open, and almost violently swing the door right into someone's face. Thankfully, that someone catches it before it does any damage.

"Whoa there, Helen Sharp, I'm not here to steal your man." The guy chuckles, giving you what you assume is his most charming smile.

It rubs you the wrong way. You glare back, ignoring the comment as you begin to rifle through your things, exchanging last night's homework for the textbook and notes you need for first period. He clears his throat, keeps standing there awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and watching you.

"So, you can't hear me," He mutters, and, weirdly, it doesn't sound like a snide question. Rather, his voice is heavily laced with disappointment.

You stop and straighten, staring right at him when you cock your head and say, "I can hear you just fine." Then, "You come to make me thank you again?" Just like Mike Bower earlier this semester, who pinned you to the vending machine after the cafeteria emptied, demanding you show him your gratitude for lending you a pencil during the History test.

The guy swallows and shakes his head, eyes wide and mouth agape. As if you speaking to him is the most astonishing thing that's ever happened to him.

Your glare intensifies.

‗•‗

Wally can't believe it. You can see him. You're talking to him.

Kind of.

You're mostly scowling at him, but that doesn't matter. He'll take what he can get. He knows you're likely still upset about Friday, how you got locked in the fallout shelter somehow. Which, the fallout shelter was a whole discovery on its own that helped unlock some of Maddie's memories over the weekend, so if anyone should be grateful, really, it's Wally.

"N-no," He stutters.

His shock swiftly melts into excitement, big grin sweeping his face, and he giddily follows you toward your first class after you slam your locker closed and start walking.

"So...are you okay? You didn't look so good, last time I saw you."

You heave a sigh, "I'm fine." And it sounds an awful lot like something you've been repeating to yourself until you believe it. Clearly, it isn't working.

"Right. Yeah. Of course you are." Wally nods sagely. "...What's your name?"

You come to an abrupt halt in the hallway and turn to face him, brows furrowed, giving him a slow once-over that makes his heart skip a beat. Now that he can see your face better, he swallows thickly. Jesus, you're beautiful. Even scowly and off-put. Pretty as a peace lily.

"Why?" You ask, and, wow, okay, has no one ever asked you for your name before?

Wally hesitates, not quite understanding why you're being so hostile until he hears it. A couple of students behind him, snickering to each other, commenting on how, the fucking weirdo's lost her mind. She's so fucked up.

Spinning on his heel, Wally faces the students, ready to put them in their place before he remembers that they can't see him...can they? No. They can't. They look right through him at you, snorting and shaking their heads in pity like you're some kind of headcase.

When he turns around again, you're gone.

‗•‗

It takes Wally a few days before he finds you again. Outside, sitting in a patch of sun, eating your bagged lunch alone as you lean against the side of the school. Without preamble, he plops down beside you.

He spent his time doing a little research. Between helping Maddie and Simon investigate, obviously, he's a good person who has his priorities straight. Still, you were always on his mind. The gorgeous living girl who can see him.

You ignore him, bite into your PB&J, and stare into the middle distance as if Wally doesn't exist. That's fine. He understands now. And, holy shit, the things he'd do if he had a body to do them in. He'd fuck every last one of your tormentors up. Break egos before breaking bones. Guy, girl, he doesn't discriminate; he hates what he's heard.

Can't be sure none of it is real, but from the way you shrink when he keeps his attention on you, he doesn't think any of it is.

"You okay?" He ventures again, voice low and kind.

You shrug. No snarky comment, no anger. Just...resignation.

"I, uh, heard what they say about you..."

You snort, "Great. You come to give me words of wisdom, oh wise one? It's just high school, it won't matter when you get out of here," You mock, clearly some bullshit you've been spoon fed before.

Wally shakes his head, "Nah. Nothing like that." He gives you a smile. Cheeky, "High school's all there is. It really does shape your whole life."

You choke on your next bite and then give him a look of horror. When you catch his impish smirk, your eyes narrow.

"You're an asshole."

"You're kind of a grump." Wally shoots back good-naturedly.

"I think I've earned it."

Wally's smile falters slightly, but he makes an effort to remain upbeat. Softly, sincerely, he says, "I'm sorry you have to go through all that."

"It is what it is." You respond, equally as soft, gaze on the ground.

You and Wally sit in silence for a moment. It doesn't feel awkward or tense the way Wally expected it to. Instead, it's peaceful. A welcome change from the mounting drama he's experiencing on Split River High's metaphysical side.

Eventually, you seem to relax. You and he exchange names. He doesn't give you his last name, not quite ready for that conversation, though he's sure you'll figure it out sooner rather than later. His letterman is a dead give away (no pun intended).

"Do you...have any friends?" He asks bluntly after talking around the point for a few minutes.

Tensing, you stop chewing the last bite of your sandwich, gaze distant as your face slackens in what Wally can only describe as hurt.

"I did. But then she helped her new friends lock me in a fallout shelter even though she knows I'm claustrophobic."

"Fuck..." Wally exhales sharply, "I'm sorry."

"You say that a lot," You accuse, slanting him another suspicious look. "Why are you sorry? Did you know that was the plan? Are you friends with Travis and Marybell and Elitzia?"

Wally tries to keep up with your questions. You must've been thinking those things based on how rapidly you asked them, and it takes Wally aback.

"No," He replies, "I don't know any of those people."

You relax again once you've stared into Wally's fucking skull to see if he's lying. Apparently, you can do that since you give a small nod and settle back against the wall.

"Thank you," You say after another minute of silence. "Really. For...getting me out of there."

"Yeah, of course," Wally says. "I might look like an asshole, but I'm not actually one."

You peek at him, a tiny smile forming on your lips that makes Wally's heart soar, "I'm starting to get that."

‗•‗

Your unconventional friendship with Wally grows from there.

When Wally isn't busy saving the day with Maddie and Charley and Rhonda, he spends his time haunting you. His own little joke, because it appears you haven't figured out how dead he is, and as more days pass, he's more reluctant to reveal that spooky truth.

In the span of weeks, you blossom like a flower for him. He learns how giggly you are when you aren't shielding yourself from the disgusting things your classmates sling at you. It's not often, but it's often enough that Wally never sees you as anything but reserved and quiet when you're between classes.

At this point, he's heard the slew of rumors about you. Gross and inflated, a game of broken telephone that chips away at you a little more every day.

Except when you're with Wally. It's as if his presence is helping you heal, and he can't keep the warm, fuzzy feelings from growing in his chest. Bigger and bigger with every encounter.

You've taken to studying in the library until the very last second you're allowed to stay. Tucked in the back, muffling laughter when Wally tells you about things that happened to him when he was alive. He omits details that might give away the era, but shares everything he can.

God, he loves the sound of your laughter. How your eyes sparkle when you're happy. How your cheeks flush when he sneaks in something flirtatious. How you bite your lip after you say something suggestive in return.

You're not exactly tactile, probably scarred from things that've happened in your past, things that've been said to you, or things that've been done to you. (Wally wants to punch everyone, teachers included.) It makes it easier to hide his deadness. However, it's getting to a point where Wally has a hard time remembering not to reach out and fail at tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear when you stare up at him with those sweet, joyful eyes.

There's always, at the very least, an inch of space between you and Wally. An inch he so desperately wishes he could eradicate. Either way, he can't break that barrier, the energy emitted from a living body preventing him from touching you, even if you did finally welcome it.

You bring him homemade cookies the day you reveal that your parents are rarely around. Break his heart, then heal it with chocolate chip, his favorite. He has to wait for you to turn away before he picks one up, so you don't see how the cookie never actually leaves the container.

When he bites into it, he moans, filthy, sexual, not even exaggerated because, "God damn girl, these are delicious."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Wally takes another bite, moans again, eyes closed as he savors the taste, "Best I've ever had."

You blush, duck your head shyly, "Thanks, Wally." And, fuck, he wants to kiss you. All over your face. Cheeks, nose, forehead. Lips. Deep and slow as he cups your jaw, angles your head just right, pulls you into his lap and—

"Earth to Wally," Your voice breaks through the mist, "You still in there?" Then, to yourself, "What the hell did I put in these?"

Wally blinks himself back to the present, "Sorry, what'd you say?"

"I asked you if you wanted to try the oatmeal-peanut butter ones."

Very seriously, "Yes. And everything else you've made ever, if you don't mind."

He wants to offer to make you banana pancakes or a burrito or anything to show off his skills in the kitchen, but he isn't sure how the food he makes would translate in the living world. His stomach clenches, eyes sad, as he begins to think about all the things he can't do with you. All the things you don't know he can't do with you because he doesn't want to lose you when you learn the truth.

Maddie didn't lose Simon, a part of him thinks, but while that's true, Maddie and Simon are best friends. Have been best friends since fuck knows when. Simon was willing to throw himself behind Maddie being a ghost because of how close they are.

Wally isn't certain you'd react the same way.

‗•‗

Things between you and Wally are...amazing? No, that's too simple a word to describe how his friendship has basically turned your whole high school experience on its head.

He's quickly become the best part of your day. He makes you laugh, helps you with homework when he isn't distracting you from it. He's sweet and compassionate and thoughtful. He remembers everything you tell him, even the mundane, silly shit.

You've never experienced that before. Not even with Oli, who had a knack of steering every conversation back to herself. It wasn't in a rude or self-righteous way, honestly, it stemmed more from insecurity and external processing.

But, yeah, it got old sometimes, especially when you just needed someone to hear you. See you. Know you.

Things with Wally are so incredible that you're even able to ignore the newest rumor about you making the rounds. How you're crazy, talking to yourself like schizo, you need meds, why do they let her near us? Dude, she could be dangerous.

None of it matters anymore. Oli's been fully indoctrinated by her new friends, ignores or avoids you, unable to look you in the eye anymore since dying her hair to look like Chloe's and dressing herself like Kirsten.

Wally has your back. Comforts you with humor or listens when you need to vent. Mostly, it's just bliss. And it's alarming because you've never felt so close to someone like this. You've exposed yourself to him in ways you never let yourself before. Not with Oli, not with your parents, not with anyone.

But he draws it out of you, bit by bit, your personality slowly reestablishing itself after years of being smothered behind the walls you had to build to protect yourself.

He's safe.

And he's hot like burning. Like putting your hand over a lit element.

Another new feeling unlocked; you want to feel his hands on you, even for a moment. Want to feel his lips on yours. Want all of him so wholly and greedily it makes your head spin.

Yes. Everything with Wally is perfect.

Until, one day, he simply...disappears.

‗•‗

It's not Wally's fault. He doesn't mean to do it. He wouldn't have, he promises. Especially not to you. But, Wally has his turn getting stuck in the fallout shelter; Mr. Martin unmasks himself as a bad guy; and Maddie's body is alive out there being used by Janet.

Things go from moderately unhinged to fucking hectic overnight.

He stays away only to help Maddie. Finds out, shit, Yuri Vyarheychyk isn't actually a looper. Discovers a lot of things he never wanted to discover. Wally's lost and despondent, and can't seem to get his head above water long enough to seek you out and apologize for abandoning you for two weeks.

He's relieved when he finally catches sight of you again, a smile on his face as he watches you help put the gym together for his high school reunion.

Just as he's about to approach, he notices you go eerily still, staring at something he can't see from this angle. He steps a little closer, cautious, heart in his throat when he finally gets a glimpse.

"Oh, no."

‗•‗

You were roped into helping set up the space for the class of '84 reunion. You'd reacted vehemently when Travis made a joke at your expense during Math and Mr. Davis immediately issued you detention.

This is how you earn back his respect. Carrying stacks of chairs and fussing over an easel that's to support a picture of that guy the stadium is named after. You're feeling bitter, neglected, alone all over again since Wally hasn't surfaced, and the rumors are starting to pick at vulnerable flesh.

Then, Ms. Monroe clucks at you, hands you the blown-up photo to fit onto the easel. You don't notice at first, and then the shock swoops in and leaves you breathless. Gaping wide-eyed at the face staring back at you.

Wally's smile is exactly how it looks when you say something he calls 'cute'. Charming. Cheerful.

The world fades away, time stands still, and you almost buckle under the realization that you made up a whole person to keep you company. You really are fucking crazy, just like everyone said.

"Hey..." You hear Wally's voice, but it can't be real, pulled from some broken part of your brain that shattered after the fallout shelter.

Slowly, you pan to your right, Wally towering over you, as solid as he was the last time you saw him. You glance back at the photo, then to Wally, rinse, repeat until you have whiplash. A tiny, wrecked sound escapes you and your body shivers, the weight of what this means bubbling inside you like acid.

"Hey, no, it's okay," The figment of Wally Clark, class of '84, dead dead dead, tries to reassure you. "You're not crazy, babe, I'm right here. You can see me."

His words do nothing to calm you down. You need help. Professional help, hard meds, a straitjacket, and a padded room.

Another trembling whimper and you wheeze, "They were right... I'm... I'm insane."

"No!" Wally insists, stumbling after you as you force your feet to move and head for the door.

Ms. Monroe calls out, but you ignore her, not bothering to think up an excuse as you leave.

"Leave me alone," You beg the figment of Wally, covering your ears with your hands to block out his voice as he urges you to believe him, that he's real, he's a ghost, he's been here for forty years, babe, please, stop!

You don't stop. You start running. Out the door, into the parking lot, off school grounds. You run until you get home, where you lock yourself in—parents still in Dubai for one of your dad's conferences, the house empty and cold.

Sliding to the ground, back against the door, you tuck your knees to your chest and cry.

Alone. Again. Always.

‗•‗

Wally's heartbroken after you leave. Never had he ever thought you'd become that important to him until you made it abundantly clear you want nothing to do with him. Because you think he's a figment of your imagination. Some trauma response.

He tries twice to convince you he's real, but it doesn't work. You shrink further into yourself, pale and placid, not even challenging the remarks made behind your back like you'd started doing again.

Unfortunately, shit hits the fan and Wally can't make time, plowing through scars, saving Maddie from herself, encouraging her to run back into her body.

All throughout, he longs for you. Wishes he'd been upfront from the beginning. He'd just wanted to be selfish for a while. To keep you. His own little secret, beautiful and bold, his to indulge in and cherish and...love.

Fuck.

Now, he stands in front of a door, a thick, bright light burning on the other side of it as he holds his key. He stares at the door, feels the warmth beckoning him. There's nothing left for him here. He's done his time, languished within the school for too many years.

Wally takes a step forward.

‗•‗

Without Wally's presence to ground you, you start to unravel. Piece by piece, whittled away to nothing but anger and fear. Right now it's predominantly fear, in large extent due to the empty halls and lack of teachers. There's a commotion outside that drew everyone with any authority out there.

It's well past the last bell, and Travis was leaving the locker rooms when you were headed to the theater to grab a notebook you forgot on one of the seats during Drama. Apparently, despite being fucked in the head, you've been a lot more appealing lately.

"You got a great smile when you aren't being a bitch," Travis leers, crowding you against a wall.

He's big. Huge. Built like a brick shithouse even at seventeen. He's got more muscle on him than you could ever hope for, and the strength of the linebacker he is behind him.

"Get away from me," You demand through clenched teeth, hands shoving uselessly at his chest. He doesn't budge an inch.

"Nah, don't think so, freak." He smirks, massive hand around your throat. Not too tight, just enough to hold you there with the promise of pain if you try to struggle.

That's when you start screaming.

‗•‗

Wally's head shoots up, and he drops the football, takes several long strides toward the exit door. The sound gets louder, clearer, as he nears. It's coming from behind the door. And it's familiar. He knows that scream, heard it weeks ago. The night he rescued you from the fallout shelter.

Without a second thought, Wally kicks the exit door open and barrels through, tripping when gravity hits him for the first time in decades. He gulps in a gasp of air, the taste sharp and bleachy, filling his lungs. Chest expanding, bones and blood and flesh heavy in a way he doesn't remember his living body being.

"Help!" You scream again, the tail-end of the word muffled by the hand of who Wally recognizes as one of your antagonizers.

Travis has you on the floor, his knees on either side of your waist as he grapples to control your arms. Wally fights against gravity, skids forward and then, Stop! Stop it! he charges. Tackles Travis' weight off of you and to the ground.

His knuckles burn as he punches Travis' face in, his lungs burn as he sucks in more air than is probably necessary, his body no longer familiar with the function but quickly getting with the program.

Wally falls back when he's sure Travis isn't getting up. Alive. The guy's alive. Just wrecked and bloodied, groaning as he rolls onto his side and clutches his jaw.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," Wally pants, wiping the sweat from his upper lip.

"W-Wally?"

Your voice is so small, so uncertain, and it gets Wally's attention immediately. He's with you in a flash, hands on your face, holy fuck, he can touch you, and you're so warm, so solid, skin so soft, he doesn't know what sensation to focus on first.

"Y-you're real." You murmur, as shocked as Wally is. "You're..." You lift your hand and place it over his, the touch smarting the cuts he opened on Travis' nose.

"I was always real, baby." He says, chest still rising and falling rapidly, God, he can't take his hands off you.

It happens in the blink of an eye. He can't tell who moves first, who initiates, only that it's pure fucking bliss when he feels your lips against his for the first time. Soft and pillowy and yielding. You taste like Sprite and those chewy watermelons you like to snack on during study sessions.

Wally moans into the kiss, can't help himself, pulls you into him as much as he can just to revel in the feeling of your body against his. Your real, living body against his.

A groan behind you and him reminds Wally that Travis is still there, will likely be found soon, and whoever does the finding will have questions Wally can't answer right now. Possibly not ever.

"Come on, baby, we've gotta go," He says, intending to hide you somewhere else in the school so you and he can talk.

You apparently have other ideas, because you drag him behind you all the way to the bus stop. He tries to tell you, tries to get you to stop before—

"I can't leave school property!" He shouts.

You slow, letting go of his hand to walk a few steps backwards, eyebrow lifting as you stare at his feet.

"But...you are off school property."

When Wally looks down, his jaw drops. He scrambles in a half-circle to measure the distance between himself and the curb. Thoughts flood his brain: He has to tell Rhonda, to tell Charley and Yuri and Quinn. He has to find his friends and tell them about his...what? His aliveness? Is he alive?

"Come on," You urge, grabbing him by the hand again and hauling him away from the school. "We can't be here right now."

You're right, he knows that, but, holy shit! He's off school property. He's breathing oxygen. His heart is pumping, his muscles ache from the exertion of beating Travis to a pulp, his tongue feels too big for his mouth, and his eyes sting from lack of blinking.

Whatever Wally is, he's not a ghost anymore.

‗•‗

You take him back to your place. You don't exactly know where else to stash a forty-year-old ghost, which Wally insists he is and is basically proof of that himself. You looked him up after the reunion. When you weren't so overwhelmed, that is.

Number 57, Walter Clark, beloved son and friend. If he is a fake, the likeness is uncanny.

As soon as you and he are through the door, he surges, lifts you into his arms, laughing, unable to believe the changes he's already taken stock of. He twirls you around, holds you like something precious, and gazes at you with sweet, soulful eyes.

"I can touch you," He murmurs, as if that's the most important development. "I can actually feel you. God, baby, I can't stop smiling. And it hurts!" The last part makes you giggle because he says it with so much joy, it tickles the giddiness right out of you.

You sober, soften like butter in his arms as he holds you. "You can...touch me some more, if you want..."

There it is, the bravest thing you've ever done. Hanging in the air between you and Wally as he viscerally registers your offer.

When he finally gets it, his smile turns into a smirk. A cocky thing that makes your belly warm.

"Yeah?" He glances around, sees the couch, then looks back at you.

Wally carries you to the couch like you weigh nothing, easy, muscles bunching and releasing as he sits down and settles you in his lap. His hands roam under your shirt, his hot touch like a brand wherever he holds you, and, slowly, giving you time to reconsider, he leans in and captures your lips in a gentle, sweet kiss.

‗•‗

Wally doesn't have the capacity to process anything outside of this moment, outside of you, right now. He should probably take a minute to figure out what happened to him when he fell through the exit door, should strategize a game plan for his friends to follow, should do a lot of things, but he can't find it in him to stop.

Your weight in his lap is so much more intense now that he can feel it in a real, human body. Your little whimpers and soft mewls as his hands wander under your shirt—fuck, the feeling of your skin beneath his fingers, it's like a dream he never thought would come true.

He undresses you slowly, worshipping every piece of skin revealed with his mouth and hands. Little nips and flicks of tongue, tasting your skin, hearing your sounds, absorbing your warmth as you squirm against him.

"You like how I touch you, baby?" He asks, gazing up at you through his lashes as he gently, so gently, trails his fingertips down your side and to your ass where he grabs. "I wanna make you feel good." He grinds his hips up, cock harder than he's ever felt it, groaning when the friction sends shockwaves of pleasure through him. "You feel that, baby? You feel what you do to me?"

"Wally," You gasp, your head tipping back and eyes closing, savoring the sensation.

You help him out of his jacket, his shirt; grip his chain to draw him into another hot, hungry kiss that leaves him reeling and desperate for more. His fingers dig into your flesh as he bucks against you, can feel the heat of your pussy through his sweatpants and shorts.

Gone in seconds because he can't wait anymore. Has waited enough time to feel anything again, but this, with you, no. God help him, he doesn't have that kind of patience or resolve. He's not strong enough. Not with how you tremble in his arms when he smears two fingers through your folds, dips them in to tease you as he watches the expression of euphoria that twists your features into the most beautiful image he's ever seen.

"You're so wet for me, baby," He purrs, nipping that sensitive spot right below your ear. Fuck, you start to ride his fingers, greedy little thing, the slick squelch of your pussy fucking his index and middle finger echoing in his ears and fogging his brain.

"Wally, please," You beg so pretty, and that's it. Control gone.

He lines himself up and guides you down, Jesus, you take him so perfectly. Stuffed full, tight as a vise, gripping him inside you as he leads you up and down, up and down, getting him as deep as he can be inside you.

"That's it, baby, just like that. So good for me," He pants, feet planted, hips meeting yours, his hands tight on your ass as you move on him. A fucking goddess crafted by heaven just for him. "Fuck," He chokes, "Fuck, yeah," and bites your lower lip, soothes the sting with his tongue before delving it into your mouth.

It feels too quick, but he can't avoid it. It's been so long since anything felt like this. You're not any better, quivering under his hands, thighs spasming when he starts to fuck into you faster, harder, making you bounce on his cock to take what you need.

When you come, he cries out, eyes clenched shut, mouth open, stars exploding. His climax ripped from deep within his core. His cock pulses as he spills inside you, arms fastened around your body to pin you to his chest, kissing you with everything he has.

"God, baby, I love you," Maybe it's too soon to say it (definitely), but who the fuck cares? Give a no-longer-dead-guy a break. He doesn't know how long his earthliness will last. He can't afford to take chances.

And he hiccups an awed breath when you say, "I love you, too, Wally Clark."

You gaze at him in the afterglow, so soft and pliant and perfect he could burst. You and he stay on the couch for a while, basking in each other's presence, in the realness of it. Eventually, taking his hand, you lead him to your room, where he writes poems with his tongue in your pussy, where you spread yourself open and invite him in again and again and again until sunrise.

You give him the weekend.

He knows he has a responsibility to visit Maddie in the hospital and make sure she's where she should be. Must inform Rhonda and Charley and Yuri and Quinn and Janet (can he still see them?!) that he's somehow regained a pulse.

But that can wait until tomorrow.

It's Sunday night, and Wally has every intention of proving to you that you're not alone anymore. That you have him as long as you want to keep him. And that he'll stay, even if you don't.

"Not gonna happen, Wally, you're stuck with me," You tell him in no uncertain terms, snuggled into his chest.

Wally smiles so wide, his cheeks ache for days after.

🐦‍🔥___________fin.____________

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if you liked this, you may also enjoy Best Friends Club.

smut. you've been Wally's best friend since elementary school. and he's had a thing for you the entire time. it would've stayed a secret if, after a shitty date with someone who wasn't him, things changed.