All Caked Up On A Thursday Afternoon (Friday For Me When I See School Spirits)

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE RUIN MY LIFE

ʚ♡ɞ˚ 𝑺𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝑺𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ʚ♡ɞ˚

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Split Rivers Sweetheart // Wally Clark x show choir! reader

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ SHORTS // HEADCANNONS ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Stay // Wally Clark x Reader

Jealousy looks good on you // Wally Clark x reader

Game of Pride // Wally Clark x reader

I’m not used to someone giving a damn // wally clark x reader

Milo Manheim 🤝 puppies 😍 day made

MILO MANHEIM as ZED NECRODOPOLIS ↳ ZOMBIES 3 (2022)

Hurt You, Heal You

summary: prompt fill. your friends have rallied around you to make you feel better after your boyfriend cheated on you. Wally, in particular, is determined to put that pretty smile back on your face... (request)

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: fluff. flashfic. AU - everyone's alive. hurt/comfort lite.

bon reading, frens

___________________________🤎

Hurt You, Heal You

You sit at the end of the deck, feet kicking the water, the world around you quiet and still, though you can hear your friends laughing up at the firepit. Up the path and through the trees, Claire's lakehouse lit up at the top of the hill.

It's almost sundown and you needed a moment to yourself. Spent the whole weekend surrounded by the people you cared about most in the world. Who'd essentially kidnapped you at someone's behest because you'd isolated yourself for days after the doubt crept back in.

Two months and things are better—they are—but...in the lonely in-betweens, you forget the rage and indignance. The lies and the deceit and the pleas for forgiveness that kindled that beautiful, empowering anger that got you through most of the aftermath.

Brandon Bowers, your boyfriend of a year, cheated on you with Kirsten Bloom. One of Claire's former entourage, now exiled to cling to the last shreds of her popularity on Brandon's arm.

You were devastated. Not that you'd pictured white picket fences and a wedding dress, but you'd invested time, energy, love. Really made an effort and enjoyed being in a relationship. Found yourself discovering new parts of who you were and reveling in them.

Now, you wonder if you'll ever find that again.

With a sigh, you lay back on your drying towel, eyes watching the stars appear above. It's so clear, unlike your head which is steadily descending into chaos as you imagine Brandon and Kirsten, cuddled up somewhere, all in love and happy.

You hear footsteps on the wood, the cadence telling you exactly who it is without you having to look.

Wally Clark plops down beside you and lays back, joining you in repose. His body so close to yours that you can feel the heat emanating from it. He turns his head and you turn yours, eyes meeting. He gives you a big smile, eyes bright and soulful.

"You doing okay?" He asks.

You return his smile with one of your own, meaning it when you say, "Better."

Before the incident, Wally was a casual friend. Someone who hung out with your group when everyone got together. But after the incident, you aren't sure what changed, but there he was. Every time you were down, he picked you up in every way he could think of.

He rallied where your friends were reluctant to. They knew you liked to handle things alone and respected that. Wally, however, didn't believe that for a second, and maybe he was right, since you don't think you would've made it out the other side without him.

It wasn't gradual. Wally was all in all at once. He showed up at your door when you texted Maddie that you weren't going to make it for Movie Night. Standing at the door with a calculating look on his face as he gave you a once-over.

"Get changed." He said.

And that was it. First was the rage room, and, God, was it cathartic. Then came the escape room (a few of the others joined in). After that, karaoke because, belting it out is good for you, cutie, trust me. Friend date after friend date, Wally anticipating exactly what you needed when you needed it before you even processed what was happening.

The night at the old theater downtown was by far your favorite. The band was terrible. Screechy and out of tune. Lyrics that were supposed to be profound sounded like inexperience and naiveté. Still, you and Wally moshed your bodies aching, laughing the whole time until you nearly peed yourself.

He's a good friend.

Your heart flutters, cheeks pink as you recall the few instances he's looked at you in a way you can't quite decipher, but the feeling those looks stirred inside you was more than platonic.

You didn't mention it then, and you won't mention it now. Too afraid for too many reasons. You don't want to ruin a good thing, you don't want to feel how Brandon made you feel again. Fear and confusion and self-deprecation.

Wally's hand finds yours between your bodies, and he squeezes. Although his face is toward the sky, you know he's paying attention.

"You sure you're okay?"

You take a moment to answer, letting the heat and weight of his hand on yours sink into your skin.

"Yeah." You say, trying to sound nonchalant. Keep it brief so you don't reveal where your mind wandered.

He remains silent for a while. Just lays there with you as the sun sets. And then he's in motion, rolling onto his side, eyes glittering as he grins down at you. Uh-oh. You know that look. That playful gleam.

The next thing you know, he's on his feet, his hands clasped around your wrists to haul you up then haul you over his shoulder. Spins on his heal, you shriek, and he jumps into the water, taking you unceremoniously with him.

When you break the surface, you're spluttering, pulling your hair back out of your face, spitting water and glaring at him as soon as he comes up with that stupid, crooked grin that makes your blood tingle.

"What the hell!?" You demand, splashing him in the face, "I just got dry!"

Wally cackles, splashing you right back, "You were getting in your head again, angelface, I had to!"

Oh, no, he absolutely did. not. have to.

You splash him again. He launches toward you as fast as the water will let him and then pseudo-tackles you back, submerges you both gleefully before releasing you so you can suck in a harsh breath.

"You're the worst!" You say, but even you can hear the laughter in your voice. Giddy. Happy. Wally's bright mood is contagious.

As he treads water, you see that look fall over his face. The soft one that makes your brain fuzzy and your stomach twist. He ruins the moment by spitting a fountain of water at you and backstroking out of your reach when you try to lunge in retaliation.

He's never said I told you so, despite being the only person you know who could. He warned you about Brandon, how Wally didn't like the guy, thought he was bad news. No one else picked up on it, so you ignored him and Wally never brought it up again.

You've been waiting for Wally to boast since he started spending his free time putting a smile on your face. Now, you realize he isn't the type. He'll never say those words, never make you feel like an idiot for trusting someone who Wally read like 3rd Grade English while you chose to be illiterate.

You've never appreciated anything more.

Wally sloshes the water around, tipping onto his back to float while he gazes at the sky. You join him, drifting close by in the water, allowing the moment to settle between you and him.

"How're you feeling now?" He asks eventually, voice as soft as the ripples. "And be honest. I know when you're lying."

He really does. It's kind of scary how, in such a short time, Wally knows you better than Nicole or Maddie or Simon.

This time, you really think about it. Take stock, measure and analyze and process. Finally, "I feel really good." The water slips as you turn your head to look at him, "Thanks to you."

It's so quiet, you aren't sure he hears you, but he does. You can tell by his smile. The gentle, pleased-with-himself one he wears when you've said he's done a good job.

Unfortunately, the moment ends with a shriek, this time in horror, not delight, because, ah, holy fuck, ew, oh God, you felt something bump against your leg in the water.

You're a flurry of motion and noise before you feel Wally's hands on your body, hear his laughter in your ear, loud and carefree.

"It was seaweed," He snorts, lifting up the clump that drifted into you for you to see.

Embarrassed, "I knew that."

"Sure you did," He tosses it further into the water.

Your lips twist in displeasure. Either way, "I'm gonna get out now."

"Just in case the Loch Ness Monster tries to eat you?" Wally grins.

"And here I was starting to like you," You glare. It lacks heat, a smile already curling the corners of your mouth at his teasing. "Now you're being mean."

Wally doesn't go still, can't unless he wants to sink below the surface, but he's so close you can sense how he tenses.

"Yeah?" He says in a breath. His leg brushes yours under the water when he wades closer. "You're starting to like me?"

There's something in the question—in his tone—that ignites a spark of heat in your belly. And now he's as close as he can get without absorbing you, your legs forced to spread to make room for his impossibly long ones. Only a narrow fraction between your chest and his. His face right there, lips still holding that dumb, gorgeous smile.

He says it like a secret, nearly lost under the chirp of crickets and distant laughter from the lakehouse.

"I'm starting to like you, too." Wally confesses and lets it sit in the air between you, waiting with baited breath for you to respond.

Your brain halts, eyes widening slightly. This isn't his usual playful teasing. The unsubtle flirting he lays on thick to make it a joke. This is real. Sincere. Vulnerable.

"Wally..." You begin, have no idea where to go from there so you trail off and leave it at that.

He doesn't seem to mind, can probably read it all over your face, as dark as the world is now. You feel one of his arms hook around your waist and draw you into his body, his lap.

Wally's eyes dip to your lips, then return to hold your gaze. He doesn't speak, just holds you, stares at you as if taking in a work of art. You swallow, shivering at the intensity in his eyes. The air thickens around you and him, syrupy and warm, and, wow, you never felt this with Brandon. This innocent, sweet desire for something to happen.

"I—" Wally stops, starts again, clearly nervous yet determined to tell you, "I do like you...a lot."

As if you couldn't figure that out from the way he holds you now. Actually, you probably wouldn't have. Would've chalked it up to Wally being casually affectionate and touchy like he is with everyone.

No, this is different, and you know it.

A single, short moment of silence as you try to find your words, only for you to blurt, "Me too."

Jesus, the smile he gives you rivals the sun.

You find yourself melting into him as you and he bob in the water, shallow enough that you can feel him steady his feet on the bottom of the lake as he keeps you in his lap. Buoyant. Light as a feather, yet feeling the weight of everything pushing you into him.

He doesn't waste a second. Takes it slow, sure, but makes sure you know exactly what he means by likes you. One of his hands grips your hip to keep you steady, the other trails gentle fingers down the slope of your jaw.

Wally leans in by degrees, giving you a chance to change your mind, no doubt. You have no intention of doing that.

And then, barely a touch, his lips brush yours. You gasp at the sensation, lips already tingling, and it prompts him to release a sigh. He lets out, lingers, then moves back in with more purpose.

A flick of his tongue, "Baby," and he kisses you harder, his grip on your hip sliding down to your thigh, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist.

Nothing else exists. Not the lake, not your friends. Not the memory of Brandon and Kirsten tangled together in Brandon's bed. Nothing apart from Wally and you and this kiss.

When it breaks, you're breathing heavy, somehow pressed even closer to him. Wally openly admires you, his hand on your neck so damn worshipful, his thumb stroking your cheek before pressing into the corner of your mouth.

"I wanna do that again," You murmur without thinking.

He chuckles, raspy and rich, "Me too."

So he does. And again. And again, until someone—Nicole—calls from the top of the path that burgers are ready! and you and he have to get out of the water to rejoin the gathering.

You sit beside him, curled up in your Adirondack chair, feet on his lap. No one mentions the new exchange of intimacy between you and him, and you realize belatedly, scanning your friends' expressions over the course of the night, that they knew.

Wally doesn't deny it when you stage whisper the question. Instead, he takes advantage of the fact that you figured it out to manhandle you from your chair into his lap, where he keeps you for the rest of the night.

And, just like every time before, you didn't realize what you needed until Wally gave it to you. Somewhere safe. Somewhere secure.

Now, you don't have to wonder if you'll ever find the type of love you wanted again, because it found you.

🤎___________fin.____________

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if you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy Fifty Seven.

fluff. between 1982 and 1983, Wally meets and falls completely head over heels for a girl who changes everything. his biggest fan, his greatest love. you.

Wally Clark

Just me or is Wally also my husband???

Can't stop thinking abt school sprits tb

I think about it when I'm sleeping, when I'm awake. When I get home and when I'm at stake😭

That’s me in the back

Raw raw rahahah whatever Lady Gaga said

Okay it was the tiniest bit funny when all of the ghosts were having their makeout sessions and hookups with their respective partners to atmospheric romantic music for like ten minutes only for it to cut to, at the exact same time, the living kids panicking and screaming trying to find Janet in the middle of the dark woods as she escapes from being kidnapped by a possessed evil scientist by attempting to murder him

milo manheim for teen vogue!

i want to make this man a father