Study Night Confessions

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The ones we loved

Wally Clark x fem!reader

summary: Gone. As Wally faded into darkness, his thoughts linger on the people he loves—especially his girlfriend. But even in death, he remains aware of her grief, feeling the weight of her sorrow as she searches for a way to stay connected to him. Though he can’t reach her, he finds solace in the fact that as long as she remembers him, he is never truly gone.

warnings: death, loss of a loved one, grief

Author's Note: this is not a continuance of the ones we lost it's just Wally’s POV

Y/n's POV

Star-crossed lovers Masterlist

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Announcer on PA: "He's got the ball. Wally Clark, down the field. He's at the 40, he's at the 30."

The roar of the crowd was deafening. Under the bright lights, the field felt endless, stretching out before me as the final play unfolded. My heart pounded in my chest, adrenaline surging through my veins. This was it—the moment we had trained for, the one we had dreamed about. I could hear my teammates shouting, the distant echo of my coach’s voice cutting through the chaos.

I locked eyes with the quarterback for just a second. The ball was in play. The night air was thick, but I didn’t notice. All I cared about was getting to the end zone.

Then, out of nowhere, I felt it. Announcer: "Clark takes a big hit. He is down."

A hit—hard, fast, brutal. My body lifted off the ground. I had been tackled before, but this was different. My legs flipped up over my head, and for a split second, I was weightless, suspended in the air. Time seemed to slow, and I saw the lights above me, blinding and endless.

Then came the landing.

My head hit the ground first. A sickening crack echoed in my ears. A numbness unlike anything I had ever felt spread through my body. I tried to move. Tried to blink. Tried to breathe.

Nothing happened. Announcer: "This doesn't look good for Wally Clark."

I could hear the crowd, distant and fading. Voices—familiar voices—shouting my name. Footsteps pounded against the turf as people rushed toward me. My mind screamed at my body to get up, to shake it off, to prove that I was fine. But I wasn’t.

I wasn’t fine at all.

My heartbeat slowed, each thud weaker than the last. Panic crept in. Was this really happening? Was this how it ended?

I thought about my mom. About my dad. About my team.

And then, I thought about her.

I wanted to see my girl one more time. To tell her I loved her. To hold her hand and hear her voice. I tried to picture her face, the way she always smiled when she saw me, the warmth in her eyes when she whispered good luck before every game.

But the image faded, swallowed by darkness.

The lights above me flickered, blurred, and then disappeared entirely.

Then, silence.

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I don’t know how long it was before I became aware again—aware of her. My girl, my Y/n . I could see her, but I couldn’t touch her. I felt it in the way she lingered in the school halls, searching for something, aching for something that wasn’t there anymore.

And then, the storage room.

The old, forgotten space in the back of the school, hidden behind dust and shadows. I remembered passing it a hundred times but never thinking twice about it. But now, it meant something else. It was hers—the place she made into a home, a refuge, a space where I still existed in some way.

She cleaned it out, piece by piece, as if clearing away the dust could somehow clear away the grief. She hung up pictures of us, placed my varisty jacket on the back of a chair like I might come back and grab it at any moment. She sat there for hours, lost in thoughts of me, whispering words to the empty air.

And God, how I wished I could answer her.

She missed me. She hurt for me. And that pain—her pain—was worse than any hit I had ever taken. Worse than the moment I knew I was dying. Because she was still here, and I wasn’t.

I wanted to tell her she wasn’t alone. That I hadn’t really left. That some part of me would always be in that room with her, in the echoes of our laughter, in the whispers of the past.

She didn’t know it, but she had saved me. Not from death, but from disappearing.

And as long as she kept that space, that memory, that love, our love alive—then maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t really gone.

Late-Night Drive-In

Drabble Flashback Pt.14

Wally Cark x fem!reader

No warnings

Star-crossed lovers Masterlist

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The drive-in was one of the few places in town that still had that old-school magic to it. Rows of cars lined up under the stars, headlights flicking off as the giant screen glowed to life. The sound crackled through the radio, mixing with the scent of buttered popcorn and summer air.

It was the kind of night that felt like it belonged in a movie itself—warm air, fireflies blinking in the distance, and Wally Clark in the driver’s seat, flipping through the drive-in snack menu like it held the secrets of the universe.

“I’m thinking,” he said, tapping the laminated page, “that we should get, like, everything.”

Y/N, curled up in the passenger seat with her sneakers propped on the dashboard, raised an eyebrow. “Everything?”

“Well, not everything,” he amended. “But, like… a pretzel, popcorn, and definitely a milkshake.”

She laughed. “That’s still a lot.”

“Go big or go home,” he said, shooting her a grin. “And we’re already out, so…”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

A few minutes later, Wally returned from the snack stand, balancing a ridiculous amount of food in his arms. He managed to shove the door open with his hip, barely getting everything inside without dropping it.

“I come bearing gifts,” he declared, handing her a tub of popcorn.

She snorted. “I didn’t even ask for popcorn.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s movie law.” He set the rest of the food between them and plopped back into the driver’s seat. “Alright. Let’s see if this flick’s any good.”

The movie was some old horror flick—low budget, bad effects, dramatic screaming. The kind of thing that wasn’t actually scary but still made people jump at all the right moments.

Wally, naturally, took it as an opportunity.

Right when the suspenseful music kicked in, he reached over and grabbed her side with a sudden squeeze.

She yelled, nearly launching her popcorn into the air.

Wally was howling with laughter.

“You ass!” she gasped, smacking his arm. “I knew you were gonna do that!”

“Then why’d it work?” he teased, wiping tears from his eyes.

She groaned, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth and refusing to dignify him with a response.

The movie played on, their laughter dying down into a comfortable quiet. Somewhere between the terrible special effects and the ridiculous dialogue, Y/N found herself more focused on the way Wally absentmindedly twirled his straw in his milkshake. The way his profile was lit up by the glow of the screen. The way his arm had settled on the console between them, close enough that if she just moved a little…

She shook herself out of it, forcing her attention back to the movie.

But when the main character let out another exaggerated scream, Wally leaned over and whispered—

“That’s you.”

She smacked him again, and he laughed.

Star-crossed lovers

Author's Note: Wow! The attention that this got was way more than I expected! Thank you all so much! I added flashbacks and a small extra part after Wally’s death. If you think I should continue this, please let me know! ♡

my requests are always open ♡

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Drabble Flashbacks

Key:

☆: fluff

◇: angst

♡: smut

Freshman Year

Pt.1 Protection and Cameras 📷 ☆

Pt.2 Ferris Wheel Nerves 🎡 ☆

Pt.3 Ice cream Meltdowns 🍦 ☆

Pt.4 Arcade Nights and Almost Wins 🎮 ☆

Pt.5 Lake day shenanigans 🤪 ☆

Pt.6 Lazy Mornings at the Diner 🍽 ☆

Pt.7 Fireworks and Almosts 🎆 ☆

Sophomore Year

Pt.8 Night swims 🏊‍♂️ ☆

Pt.9 First "Date" 🥤 ☆

Pt.10 Bike Races and Bruised Knees 🚲 ☆

Pt.11 Halloween of 1981 🎃 ☆

Pt.12 Homecoming Proposal 81' 💃 ☆

Pt.13 > Homecoming Dance 🕺 ☆

Junior Year

Pt.14 Late-Night Drive-In 🚗 ☆

Pt.15 Record Store Arguments 💿 ☆

Pt.16 A Mistake That Changed Everything ◇

Pt.17 Aftermath - Wally’s POV ◇

Pt.18 Doubt - Y/n's POV ◇

Pt.19 The Truth - Y/n's POV ◇

Pt.20 Collision Course - Wally’s POV ◇

Pt.21 Aftershock - Wally’s POV ◇

Pt.22 Late-Night Diner - Wally’s POV ◇

Pt.23 Rebuilding - Wally’s POV ◇

Present Day

Y/n's POV ◇

Wally’s POV ◇

The Fall - Y/n's POV ◇

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The ones we lost

Wally Cark x fem!reader

summary: Wally Clark was her world—her first love, her best friend, the one person who made everything feel right. But now he’s gone, ripped away in an instant, leaving behind nothing but echoes of laughter in empty hallways and a heart that feels permanently shattered. Every day is a struggle as she walks through Split River High, surrounded by the ghosts of memories that refuse to fade.

warnings: death, grief, loss of a loved one

Author's Note: It's possible that this could turn into a series, but for now, this is just a singular fanfic. If there are any recommendations for future fics or a continuance of this one, my requests are always open ♡

Wally’s POV

Star-crossed lovers Masterlist

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Announcer on PA: "He's got the ball. Wally Clark, down the field. He's at the 40, he's at the 30."

The stadium was electric, the crowd roaring as the final moments of the homecoming game played out under the bright Friday night lights. I sat in the stands, bundled in Wally’s varsity jacket, my heart pounding with excitement and nerves. This was his night—his chance to shine. I could already picture him grinning ear to ear afterward, sweeping me up in a post-game hug, the way he always did.

Then it happened.

Announcer: "Clark takes a big hit. He is down."

The hit came out of nowhere. One second, Wally was sprinting down the field, and the next, a player blindsided him with a brutal tackle. I watched, breathless, as his body lifted off the ground, flipping unnaturally in the air. The sickening crack echoed through the stadium as he landed hard on the turf, his head snapping at an awful angle. The crowd fell eerily silent.

My stomach dropped. Announcer: "This doesn't look good for Wally Clark."

“Get up, Wally,” I whispered, gripping the edge of my seat, willing him to move. To even twitch. But he didn’t. The players around him hesitated before frantically waving for help. Coaches and medics rushed the field, but he just lay there, still, too still. A cold dread settled over me, crawling up my spine.

This wasn’t like the other times he’d been hit. This was different.

Somewhere in the distance, I heard a voice yelling his name. It took me a second to realize it was mine...

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The days after felt like a blur. A never-ending, suffocating blur. The hospital waiting room, the murmured apologies from doctors, the way his mother collapsed into sobs when they told us he was gone.

It felt unreal, like some kind of cruel joke.

Because how could Wally be gone? He was just here. Just laughing with me, just kissing me goodbye before the game, just promising me we'd go to the lake this weekend.

But he wasn’t here anymore. He never would be again.

I don’t remember much about the funeral. Just the weight in my chest, the way the world felt too bright for a day so dark.

People kept talking about him like he was a memory, but I couldn't accept that.

He wasn’t just a memory. He was still mine. My Wally. I stopped going to football games. Couldn’t even look at the field. Every time I walked past it, I swore I could still hear the echo of that hit, the way the crowd gasped, the way my heart broke in real time.

I needed somewhere to go, somewhere that felt like him.

That’s how I met Mr. Daniels, the janitor. He saw me wandering the halls after school one day, lingering in places I shouldn’t be. I expected him to scold me, to tell me to go home, but instead, he just asked, "Looking for somewhere quiet?" I nodded, and after a moment, he motioned for me to follow. He led me to an old storage room near the back of the school, long forgotten and covered in dust. "Nobody uses this place anymore," he said, tossing me a key. "Clean it up if you want. Just don’t tell anyone."

So I did. I spent hours there, sweeping the dust away, hanging up old pictures of Wally from my locker, draping his jacket over the back of a rickety chair.

It wasn’t much, but it was his. And being there, surrounded by the echoes of our time together, made me feel like I wasn’t completely alone.

One day, while sitting in that room, I let myself remember. Really remember. The way Wally smiled when he was nervous. The way his laugh sounded when he was truly happy. And, finally, the way he looked just before it all went wrong.

The scar of that night never left me. I replayed it over and over, but deep down, I knew what happened.

One night, sitting there alone, I whispered to the empty space, "I miss you, Wally." And though the room was silent, though I would never see his face again, I swore I could feel something—just the faintest hint of warmth, like he was still with me in some way. I still dream about him.

Sometimes, I wake up thinking I hear his voice, feel his arms around me. But when I open my eyes, the room is empty. Still, I know the truth.

He’s not lost. Not really. As long as I remember him, as long as I keep this small piece of him close, he’ll always be here. And maybe, just maybe, one day, I’ll see him again.

Ice cream Meltdowns

Drabble Flashback Pt.3

Wally Cark x fem!reader

Star-crossed lovers Masterlist

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The summer heat was unforgiving. The kind of heat that made the pavement too hot to walk on barefoot, that made every movement feel sluggish, that made the idea of being anywhere but inside with a fan blasting seem ridiculous.

But Wally had insisted they go for ice cream.

“Nothing beats a hot day like a triple scoop,” he’d declared, dragging her toward the tiny stand near the edge of town.

Y/N had wisely gone with a single scoop—chocolate chip in a waffle cone. Simple. Classic. Manageable.

Wally, however, had other ideas.

“Go big or go home,” he’d said, ordering three scoops stacked high on a sugar cone—chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry. A monstrosity.

And now? Now it was betraying him.

“Damn it,” he muttered, frantically licking at the trails of ice cream melting down his fingers.

Y/N watched, barely containing her laughter. “I told you.”

“I had it under control,” he argued, tilting his cone to try and save what was left.

“You absolutely did not.”

She pulled a napkin from the dispenser and held it out to him. “Here. Before you turn into a human sundae.”

He took it with a smirk. “Too late.”

She shook her head, watching as he wiped at his hands, but the paper napkin wasn’t doing much against the sticky mess. He was covered—chocolate smeared along his palm, vanilla dripping down his wrist, strawberry already soaking into the cuff of his shirt.

“You’re hopeless,” she teased, reaching for more napkins.

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad.”

“Wally, your entire arm is melting.”

He grinned, holding it up. “Think I could convince people I’m bleeding?”

“Only if they’re legally blind.”

She handed him another wad of napkins, shaking her head as he attempted to clean himself up.

The heat pressed down around them, cicadas buzzing in the distance, the scent of waffle cones and sugar thick in the air. It was the kind of summer day that felt endless, stretching lazily into the afternoon, the kind where time didn’t really matter.

And somehow, watching Wally lose an absolute battle with his ice cream made it even better.

“Okay,” he finally admitted, after struggling for a full minute, “this might’ve been a bad idea.”

“Oh wow,” she gasped, placing a hand over her heart. “The great Wally Clark admitting he was wrong?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

She laughed, shaking her head. Then, without thinking, she reached out and wiped a smudge of chocolate from the corner of his mouth with her thumb.

It was an instinctive, automatic movement, the kind she wouldn’t have even thought twice about—if it weren’t for the way Wally froze.

Her hand hovered for half a second too long, her thumb brushing his skin.

His eyes flicked up to hers, something unreadable behind them.

The air felt different.

She swallowed, suddenly very aware of how close they were standing. Of how the heat wasn’t just from the sun anymore.

And then—

“Clark!”

The moment shattered as one of Wally’s football teammates called from across the lot.

Wally exhaled, stepping back. “Yeah?”

“We’re heading to the field. You coming?”

Wally hesitated, glancing back at Y/N. “Uh—”

“Go,” she said quickly, forcing a smile. “I’ll see you later.”

He nodded, a flicker of something in his expression before he jogged off to join them.

Y/N watched him go, her fingers still tingling where they’d touched his face.

And if she spent the rest of the afternoon wondering what might’ve happened if they hadn’t been interrupted…

Well.

That was her business.

Wally Clark NSFW! alphabet

Requested by the lovely @notheoneuneed

I lowkey giggled so much when writing this. Thanks for the request!!! ♡

For more like this, check out my request list! ♡

If anyone wants me to turn this into a fic like "alphabet soup" by the amazing, @whoopsyeahokay , I would be happy to! ♡ (For real, tho, that fic got me through so many boring class periods, and it needs more recognition! 😪)

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A - Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

This man FOR SURE is an aftercare king! He makes sure his partner is cleaned up, hydrated, and well cared for. I feel like he's definitely the type of man to run a bath for his partner if he was a little rough, or just in general.

B - Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Wally is a big boy, so I feel like his favorite part of HIS body would be his hands. Being able to hold his partner close to him is a must for intercourse. He 100% uses those fingers to his advantage. 🤭

C - Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Let's get one thing straight. Wally may have been an 80s jock and a bully, but he treats his lady RIGHT. He is not cumming anywhere but inside her, condom or not. With her permission, of course. He would never disrespect his lady by painting her with his cum like a common whore. #gentleman

D - Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I don't think he has any, to be honest. I feel like he'd be very open and honest with his partner about what he likes/ is willing to do.

E - Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

This man has been dead for 40 years... He's got experience. For those saying, "Well, he hasn't had anyone to practice with," the man probably found a way to fulfill his needs.

F - Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary. Easy. Wally is a sensitive, romantic soul. He loves and craves intimacy, which missionary gives. He's the type of person to look into his partners eyes as they reach climax.

G - Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Goofy, he's a silly goofy boy. It's a very intimate act, so he'll try and lighten the mood if it's your first time to make you more comfortable.

H - Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's got a little stubble. C'mon, guys, he's been stuck in school for 40 years. There's not much to work with. But he does try his best to keep it well managed.

I - Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Like I said before, this man is a GENTLEMAN. He will not cum before you, and will make sure you cum at least twice before he does. He will definitely hold you as close to him as possible when he cums. Giving kisses to your body as you come down from your high, and giving encouraging words/praise the whole time.

J - Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He's been trapped in high school for 40 years. There's no way that someone hasn't caught him "relieving himself" at some point. He'll definitely jack off to a polaroid of you.

K - Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Overstimulation. He loves to make his partner cum multiple times. It gives him a sense of accomplishment and pride that he made his partner feel so good.

L - Location (favorite places to do the do)

Wally is not picky. He will take you anywhere you let him. The gym, the football field, the cafeteria, the hallway during passing period. If you say yes, this man is taking FULL advantage of that consent.

M - Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything and everything. This man LOVES you with all his heart. Anything you do turns him on. If you even breathe the same air as him, he gets hard.

N - No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I think the only thing that he wouldn't do would be anything that disrespects or hurts his partner.

O - Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He likes giving and receiving, but he prefers giving. He loves to feel the way his partner shakes and loves hearing their whines as he makes them cum.

P - Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He'll go at whatever pace you ask, but if he's in a particular mood, girl, you better hold tf on because he's gonna take you to pound town.

Q - Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yes. The answer is yes. He will take you anywhere any chance he can get it. He loves to be intimate with his partner, mostly to let everyone know that they belong to him.

R - Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He usually likes to keep it simple, but if you ask him, I'm sure he won't mind trying something new. He would definitely take the risk of a pregnancy just to feel himself filling you up and marking you in a primal way that only HE can.

S - Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Oh honey, this man can go forever. That man is a big boy athlete and can go on, and on, and on, WELL after you've finished.

T - Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He'd probably use a vibrator on his partners clit while he ruts deep into them, maximizing their pleasure and his. He loves to hear the whimpers that you'd make, it just eggs him on even more.

U - Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh, he's a tease. Wally will edge you until you BEG for him to make you cum, drawing out your pleasure just to make you fucking EXPLODE. And he'll do it with a smile on his face.

V - Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Loud. Loud Asf. He wants the world to know how good you make him feel, and he'll let you know, too. He'll tell you things like, "fuckk, you're doing so good, baby." "Keep going, just like that," and so on.

W - Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Your first time with him is very romantic, he's got a bed set up, there's flowers and music, the whole package. There's nothing he won't do to make you feel comfortable.

X - X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Big boy. Big, big boy. I'm saying like 7-8 inches. He's both a grower AND a shower. He's 6 inches soft, which you can tell from the scenes with him wearing sweatpants.

Y - Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Like I said before, if he's horny, he'll let you know. And then he'll go until you tell him to stop. Wally LOVES you and is NOT afraid to let anyone and everyone know.

Z - Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It depends on how long you let him go for, but he'll usually hold you close to him and rub your back until you fall asleep. He's a protector, so he won't sleep until he knows you're safe.

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Record Store Arguments

Drabble Flashback Pt.15

Wally Cark x fem!reader

Star-crossed lovers Masterlist

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“This is the best album ever made,” Wally declared, holding up the record. Let's Dance by Bon Jovi

Y/N snorted. “You have terrible taste.”

He clutched his chest. “Take. That. Back.”

She crossed her arms. “Make me.”

He grinned, narrowing his eyes. “I could tickle you until you admit I’m right.”

Her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”

He took a step closer.

She bolted.

Laughter echoed through the aisles as he chased her down, dodging shelves and stacks of vinyl until the store clerk gave them a glare that said one more noise and you’re out.

They tried to stifle their laughter, failing miserably.

Night Swims

Drabble Flashback Pt.8

Wally Cark x fem!reader

Star-crossed lovers Masterlist

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The lake was quiet, the water still and reflecting the endless stretch of stars above. It was the kind of summer night that made everything feel infinite—where the heat still clung to the air, but the cool breeze off the water made it bearable. The party at Mason’s house had been fun, sure, but it was loud. Too many people, too much beer, too much heat packed into one backyard.

This, though? Just her and Wally at the lake? This was better.

Y/N sat at the dock’s edge, feet barely skimming the surface of the water. The planks beneath her were warm from the sun, but the night had stolen some of the heat away. Wally sat next to her, arms stretched back to prop himself up, head tilted toward the sky.

“Ever wonder how many stars are actually out there?” he mused, voice lazy and content.

She hummed. “Probably too many to count.”

He let out a low whistle. “Crazy to think about, huh? Like… we’re just sitting here, two dumb kids at a lake, while all that’s up there.”

Y/N turned to him, smiling softly. “Since when did you get all philosophical?”

“Since I started hanging out with you.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I highly doubt that.”

He just smirked, not arguing.

A comfortable silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant chirp of crickets and the occasional splash of a fish breaking the water’s surface. Y/N leaned back on her hands, letting her head tip toward the stars, soaking it all in.

Then—

SPLASH!

Cold water exploded over her legs, drenching her shorts and soaking into the fabric of her tank top. She gasped, jerking upright as the lake settled, its surface rippling wildly.

“Wally!” she shrieked, whipping her head toward where he had disappeared beneath the surface.

A few seconds passed before he came up, grinning like an idiot, hair dripping and eyes twinkling with mischief.

“What?” he said innocently, floating on his back.

“You ass! That was cold!”

“Nah, it’s fine. You just gotta get in, and you won’t even feel it after a while.” He kicked lazily, sending another small wave toward the dock. “Come on.”

She crossed her arms, glaring down at him. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

She really wanted to argue. But the way he was looking at her—challenging, teasing, expecting her to jump in—made it impossible to say no.

With an exaggerated sigh, she stood up, toeing off her sneakers before peeling off her socks. She hesitated for a split second, but before she could second-guess herself, she stepped forward and jumped.

The water swallowed her whole, cool and shocking against her sun-warmed skin. She surfaced with a gasp, pushing her wet hair back from her face.

Wally was laughing, grinning like he’d just won something. “See? Not so bad, huh?”

“I hate you,” she repeated, splashing water directly into his face.

He spluttered, blinking water from his eyes before lunging forward, sending a wave toward her.

She shrieked, kicking away, trying to put space between them. “Wally, don’t you dare—”

Too late.

He caught her by the wrist, tugging her toward him. The movement sent her off balance, and before she could stop it, she crashed right into his chest.

For a moment, they were both frozen, chest-to-chest, the lake swirling around them. His hands had landed at her waist, steadying her, while her fingers instinctively gripped his shoulders.

Her breath caught.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t been close before—hell, they spent nearly every day together over the summer. But this was different. Something about the way the moonlight reflected off the water, the way his arms had wrapped around her without thinking, the way his breath fanned against her cheek.

His gaze flickered to her lips.

Her heart stuttered.

Then, as if realizing the moment was stretching too long, Wally cleared his throat and gently nudged her backward, putting a few inches of space between them. “Didn’t mean to drown you,” he joked, voice just a little rougher than before.

She forced a laugh, shoving his shoulder. “Jerk.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He smirked, flicking water at her face. “Race you to the dock?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You always cheat.”

“I never cheat.”

“Wally, you literally—”

“Three, two—”

“Wally—”

“Go!”

He took off without waiting, kicking hard, cutting through the water like a fish.

Y/N groaned but didn’t hesitate to chase after him, their laughter ringing through the quiet night.

And if she found herself sneaking glances at him—at the way he looked when he was happy, carefree, alive—well…

She’d never admit it.

The Truth – Wally’s POV

Drabble Flashback Pt.23

Wally Cark x fem!reader

Star-crossed lovers Masterlist

~ ☆ ♡ ° ~ ☆ ♡ ° ~ ☆ ♡ ° ~ ☆ ♡ ° ~

The summer air was thick with warmth, the scent of pine and lake water settling around us as I sat on the hood of my truck, tossing my football absentmindedly in my hands.

Y/N sat beside me, her legs crossed, her fingers tracing the condensation on her slushie cup. We’d spent nearly every night like this lately—just existing together, trying to rebuild what had been shattered.

But tonight, something was different.

Y/N had been fidgeting, glancing at me every so often like she was holding something back. Finally, she sucked in a breath and let it out, turning toward me.

“I ran into someone a few days ago,” she said carefully.

I stopped tossing the ball, resting it against my knee. “Yeah?”

She hesitated. “That girl from the diner.”

My stomach twisted slightly, but I kept my face neutral. “Oh.”

Y/N wet her lips. “She told me something.”

I tilted my head. “What’s that?”

“She said…” Y/N’s fingers gripped the edge of the hood. “She said you were actually talking about me that night.”

My chest tightened, but I stayed quiet.

“She told me you had to leave soon because you had plans with me.”

Silence stretched between us.

Finally, I sighed, setting the football aside and looking her in the eye. “Yeah,” I admitted. “I did.”

Y/N’s breath hitched. “You did?”

I nodded. “After practice that night, I was coming to see you.”

She blinked at me, her eyes glistening under the glow of the streetlamp.

“I had something for you,” I continued, reaching into my pocket. “Something I never got the chance to give you.”

I pulled out a small, slightly worn box and flipped it open.

Inside, nestled in soft velvet, was a delicate silver ring.

Y/N gasped softly, her hand covering her mouth.

“It’s a promise ring,” I said quietly. “I bought it weeks before… before everything. I was gonna surprise you that night, take you out, tell you what you already knew.”

Y/N’s voice was barely above a whisper. “What’s that?”

I exhaled, then suddenly slid off the hood of my truck, landing on the pavement in front of her.

And then, to her absolute shock—

I dropped to one knee.

Y/N let out a strangled noise, her eyes wide. “Wally—”

“Y/N L/N,” I said, straight-faced but eyes full of mischief, “I was gonna do this months ago, but you kinda broke my heart, so I had to reschedule.”

Her mouth parted, emotions warring on her face—shock, guilt, and something deeper, warmer.

I smirked slightly, holding up the ring between my fingers.

“But,” I continued, “since you’ve spent all summer proving that you might just deserve me again, I figured I’d give you the chance to redeem yourself.”

Y/N let out a half-laugh, half-sob, her hands trembling. “Wally…”

I softened, my smirk fading into something more sincere.

“This ring always belonged to you,” I said. “And if you want it… it’s yours.”

Y/N swallowed thickly, blinking down at me as a tear slipped down her cheek.

Then, without hesitation, she reached out, cupping my face between her hands before pulling me into a fierce, desperate kiss.

I melted into her instantly, my fingers slipping against her cheek, my heart pounding against my ribs.

When we finally broke apart, she rested her forehead against mine.

“I love you,” she whispered. “And I swear—I swear—I’ll never doubt you again.”

I smiled, brushing my thumb over her cheek.

“You better not,” I teased. “I don’t know if I’d propose to you twice.”

She let out a wet laugh, then held out her hand.

I slipped the ring onto her finger, my chest tightening as it settled perfectly where it belonged.

Y/N looked at it for a long moment before grinning, wiping her eyes. “You know this is basically a marriage proposal, right?”

I shrugged, standing up and pulling her into my arms. “Guess that means you’re stuck with me.”

Y/N let out a breathless laugh, hugging me tightly.

And as I held her there, beneath the summer stars, I knew—

We had finally found our way back home.

Homecoming Dance

Drabble Flashback Pt.13

Wally Cark x fem!reader

Star-crossed lovers Masterlist

~ ☆ ♡ ° ~ ☆ ♡ ° ~ ☆ ♡ ° ~ ☆ ♡ ° ~

The gym was packed, pulsing with music, the air thick with the scent of sweat, cheap punch, and way too much cologne. The decorations—streamers, fairy lights, and a questionable amount of glitter—did their best to make the place feel magical, but Wally barely noticed any of it.

Because Y/N was standing in front of him, looking stunning.

Not that she didn’t always look good—because damn—but tonight? Tonight, she was on a whole other level.

He’d spent the whole night dancing with her, making her laugh, watching the way her eyes lit up under the glow of the lights. Every second, every little glance, every touch that lingered a little too long had been building up to this.

Now, the dance was winding down, and they had slipped outside, away from the crowd, into the cool night air. The muffled bass of the music still thumped from inside, but out here, it was quiet. Just the two of them under the dim glow of the parking lot lights.

“You’re not as bad at dancing as you said you were,” Y/N teased, swaying slightly in place.

Wally huffed a laugh. “That’s because I was holding back.”

“Oh, really?” She smirked. “Guess I’ll have to see the full performance someday.”

He grinned, taking a step closer. “Maybe.”

They were close now, the space between them barely there, his heart hammering in his chest.

She glanced up at him through her lashes, her usual confidence flickering into something softer, more hesitant. “Wally…”

“Yeah?” His voice was quieter now.

She swallowed, then let out a small breath, like she was working up the nerve to say something. But instead of words, she just… looked at him.

And suddenly, finally, he knew.

He reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her breath hitched.

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” he murmured.

Her lips parted slightly, and for a second, he thought she might tease him—call him out for stating the obvious. But instead, she just whispered, “Okay.”

So he did.

The first press of their lips was soft, tentative, but the moment she sighed against him, he was gone. His hands found her waist, pulling her in just enough to feel the warmth of her against him. She responded instantly, fingers curling into the fabric of his suit jacket.

It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t hurried—it was slow, warm, something real.

When they finally pulled away, she let out a breathless little laugh. “Took you long enough.”

He chuckled, resting his forehead against hers. “Worth the wait?”

She grinned. “Definitely.”

And with that, he kissed her again—because now that he’d started, there was no way he was stopping anytime soon.