You Belong With Me

one thing that will get me back to tumblr is a doomed pairing that makes me go insane and takes over my life and i need every ounce and crumb of content for them

And crying all over again 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

LOOK AT HOW TINY LOUIE IS HERE ADORABLE (like his father)

SKINNY DIPPING pt. 2 ✩ Wally Clark

Pairings: Wally Clark x Fem!reader

Warnings: +18 SMUT MINORS DNI. very slow burn. semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, teasing, heavy sexual tension, explicit dirty talk, praising, degradation, skinny dipping in a public pool, possesiveness/jealousy, light choking, rough gripping & mandhandling, overstimulation, wally being a cocky little shit and very possessive, kinda dom!wally, risk of getting caught, begging, breeding kink. wally whimpering???? (god have mercy)

Summary: For what feels like an eternity, Y/n and Wally have been nothing more than just friends. but that changes one reckless night when they decide to cross skinny dipping off their "100 things to do before crossing over" bucket list. Teasing and meaningless flirting turn heated, and the tension that has been simmering between them finally snaps. Under the moonlit water, boundaries blur, and their friendship is completely wrecked, in the best possible way.

Author's note: this is part 2!! Part 1 is linked below <3 And part 3 soon! I had to take a moment to breath and relax while writing this cause hello????? god jesus have mercy I'm literally gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. Also, thank you so much for the love on part 1!! it made me soooo happy to see you guys liked it <3333 it means the world to me!

Word count: 4043

Song choices: lose control - teddy swims, tear you apart - she wants revenge, closer - nine inch nails, flawless - the neighbourhood, do i wanna know? - arctic monkeys, TiO - zayn, again - noah cyrus.

masterlist. part 1. part 2. part 3

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"So...Skinny dipping?" his lips brushed against your ear, his voice now a low whisper.

"Skinny dipping," you repeated, lips curving into a playful grin. "Just don't get all excited to see me naked, Clark," you teased, pushing him lightly. "And hands to yourself," you added.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes darkening a little. He couldn't help but smirk as well. He was excited at the thought of seeing you like that.

"I make no promises," he replied with a teasing grin, his raspy voice sending shivers down your spine.

"I mean it, Clark," you huffed, rolling your eyes, though the warmth you felt bubbling up inside you betrayed the annoyance you were trying to fake.

He leaned in again, his face mere inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Can you blame me, though?" his voice dipped lower, rougher, almost a whisper. "You look so damn pretty, I can't help but flirt a little."

Your pulse quickened, but you refused to let him notice it. You pushed him back again, keeping the smirk on your lips. "Yeah, yeah," you drawled, tilting your head. "Am I the first girl you've ever said this to? Or the fourth? Or ninetieth?"

He lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. The truth was, Wally had a certain reputation, and everyone knew it. His charming smiles, teasing grins, and how he made girls feel like they were the center of his world… He never meant any of it. None of the girls he flirted with ever came close to you, to how you made him feel.

He pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes. His gaze held yours, unwavering.

"None of those girls were you," he said quietly. "And none of them meant anything to me."

With a dramatic sigh, you place your hand over your forehead, pretending to swoon. "Oh, Wally! How you make my heart race!"

His laugh was loud, unrestrained, the kind of laugh that made your stomach flip every single time you heard it. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he nudged you in the stomach. "Oh, shut up," he said, grinning. "You're such a dork, you know that?"

"And you love it," you shot back, tilting your chin up in defiance.

Wally didn't answer immediately. Instead, his smirk faded slightly, and it made your chest feel too tight. He took a step closer again.

"Yeah," he admitted, voice just above a whisper. "I do."

The teasing had completely vanished now. Your throat suddenly felt dry, your pulse hammering in your ears. Something in his eyes told you that he wasn't playing anymore.

Your mouth opened, but before you could say anything, he lifted a hand, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered just a second too long, his touch light, but it managed to burn right through you.

He knew exactly what he was doing. The way he spoke, the way his gaze bore into you, the slight grin on his lips—it was all too deliberate, too calculated, and it made your pulse quicken. His eyes didn't lie, it was pure desire that clouded them and his judgment too. Wally had always been a flirt with everyone, and you were no exception. There had always been playful and flirty banter between you, but it was nothing more than a game. Nothing more than playful teasing. This? This felt different, it felt real. Lines were getting blurry, and your body was reacting in a way you never thought possible.

"You're trouble, you know that?" he murmured, his thumb grazing your jaw.

Your breath hitched. "Takes one to know one," you whispered back.

His eyes darkened, and for a second, you thought he was going to close the distance between you completely. Your heart slammed against your ribs, anticipation running through every nerve in your body.

With a smooth, effortless motion, Wally pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside like it was nothing. He knew you were watching him, and you did. You watched him, you couldn't tear your eyes away, hypnotized by his every movement, by the way the moonlight caressed his skin, his body gleaming under the soft light. You had seen him shirtless plenty of times before–he loved to work out and flaunt what he'd earned. But tonight? Tonight felt so much different. 

Your heart skipped a beat as you let your gaze travel down his chest, the way his abs tightened as he took off his shorts, kicking them aside, leaving only his boxers on. "You coming?" his voice was casual. But the way his eyes roamed over you, the way his smirk depended as he noticed the way you couldn’t keep your eyes off him, it was anything but innocent. "Go ahead," he added, nodding toward the water. "Get in first. I'll be right behind you."

You folded your arms over your chest, tilting your head as you arched a brow. "Oh, I see what you're doing," you mused, propping yourself on your hip. "You want me to strip first so you can get a show, huh?"

Wally's grin became bigger, shameless, and cocky. "And if I do?" he murmured.

"Then that makes you predictable," you shot back, tilting your head trying to feign disinterest.

His smirk didn't waver. If anything, it grew bolder. "Or just a man with very good taste," he countered smoothly, stepping closer. "But, hey, if you're too shy—"

Before he could finish, you grabbed the hem of your white shirt and pulled it over your head, letting it drop carelessly onto the ground. His smirk vanished. It was only for a second, but you saw it, the way his throat bobbed, the way his gaze dropped, drinking every inch of you. Satisfaction curled in your stomach.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. That cocky smirk? Gone. Replaced by something you couldn't quite place, something darker, deeper. Something raw.

You stepped toward the pool, your back to him, deliberately ignoring his presence, pretending you didn't feel the heat of his gaze burning into you. "You were saying?" you teased, sliding your skirt down inch by inch, slowly, letting it slip past your thighs and pool at your feet before stepping out of it. "What was that about me being too shy?"

A smirk tugged at your lips as you tilted your head just enough to catch a glimpse of him over your shoulder. Victory. He wasn't smirking anymore—his mouth slightly parted, eyes darker, stance tense like he was barely holding himself together. You had him right where you wanted him.

But you weren't done. If he wanted a show, he was gonna get one.

Keeping your gaze locked on his, you let your hands drift behind your back, fingers working the clasp of your lace bra with infuriating slowness. You could see the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling faster.

The straps slid down your shoulders, the cool night air hitting your skin, making your nipples harden instantly. And still, you watched him, letting his gaze devour you. Letting the bra drop, you let yourself bask in the way his pupils dilated, the way his hands clenched, every single vein and muscle in his arms tensing like he was fighting every instinct to move towards you and touch you.

And he was. God, he was fighting it, hard. Every demon inside him was telling him to grab you, to pull you close to him, to feel your skin against his, to claim you.

With a wicked grin, you toyed with the waistband of your lace black underwear, sliding it down, teasing him slowly. "Cat got your tongue, Clark?" you chuckled. Before he could answer, you turned your head and slipped into the pool.

When you submerged in the water, disappearing from his view, he let out a sharp exhale, the sound more like a whimper. As you resurfaced, he could've sworn he stopped breathing. You were everything he had ever wanted, and to see you there, bare, wet, and exposed? It was almost too much for him to handle.

His hands clenched into fists, his entire body trembling with the effort to restrain himself. His gaze didn't waver—it never left your body, exploring every inch of you.

You looked mesmerizing, the way the moonlight made your wet skin glow underneath it. He was desperate to touch you, to run his hands over your perfectly soft skin.

You ran your hands over your wet, slicked-back hair, your gaze on him. Wally stood there, frozen, eyes dark and fixed on you.

It was intoxicating, the power you had over him.

"What happened to all that smooth talk, Clark?" you teased, tilting your head, a playful smirk on your lips. "You suddenly forgot how to speak?"

That did it.

Wally's jaw locked, his hands clenched at his sides like he was physically restraining himself. For a second, you thought he might actually fight it—might crack a joke, roll his eyes, brush it off like he always did, return to his usual cocky self.

But then, without hesitation, he shoved his boxers down and kicked them aside. His eyes never leaving yours.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He stood before you, the hard lines of his body tense with restraint, every muscle in his stomach flexing as he fought for control. And then there was the unmistakable evidence of his arousal, thick and hard, a blatant display of everything he wanted—everything he wanted from you.

A shiver went down your spine, heat pooling in your stomach as your eyes slowly flickered up to his.

He didn't say a word. He just stepped forward, smoothly, deliberately, like a predator hunting its prey, before dipping into the pool. The water rippled as he disappeared beneath the surface. And then, he surged back up, breaking through the water right in front of you, so close that droplets splashed on your face, so close that his lips nearly brushed yours as he exhaled a deep, slow breath.

You inhaled sharply, instinctively swimming back, but his hands were already on your waist, locking you in place. Holding you right there, right where he wanted.

“What happened to all that smooth talk, sweetheart?" he repeated your exact words, the term of endearment making your stomach flip. His voice low, almost teasing. "You suddenly forgot how to speak?"

Your pulse hammered against your ribs. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to smirk even as every nerve in your body buzzed with anticipation. This was dangerous, you knew it, and he did too.

But neither of you seemed to care.

"You think you're real cute, don't you?" his voice was low and rough, every word seemed to vibrate through your chest as his lips hovered just above yours, his breath warm against your skin. His voice made your knees weak.

You grinned, hands sliding up his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. "I don't think," you whispered. "I know."

A low growl rumbled in his throat. And suddenly, you weren't smirking anymore. There wasn't a single hint of playfulness in his eyes. They were filled with pure and raw heat. Dangerous, Hungry. His grip tightened, pulling you flush against him. Beneath the water, skin met skin, heat against heat. It was undeniable now, impossible to ignore, impossible to run away from. Everything you tried to ignore, every line you'd both tried so hard not to cross.

Everything was collapsing in on itself.

This was happening.

This was real.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me." His voice was thick with frustration, like he was holding back every ounce of self-control. Every inch of him trembled beneath your hands, his chest rising and falling too fast, his fingers digging into your waist. The struggle was written all over his face. He wanted you. You could see it. Feel it. He was trying so hard to hold back.

And God, he wanted to. You could feel it in the way his body tensed against yours, in the way his jaw clenched, in the way his lips hovered right there, barely an inch away, like he was dying to close the distance. Dying to taste you.

You inhaled sharply, your heart slamming against your ribs. What the hell were you doing?

Stripping in front of him? Letting him see you like this, bare and exposed? Teasing him? Knowing exactly what it would do to him?

It wasn't like you at all.

It wasn't like either of you.

This wasn't the playful banter you'd always shared. It never got further than simple jokes and meaningless teasing. This? This was territory neither of you had ever ventured into. There was a thin, fragile line. You wanted to cross it. You needed to. But the fear... the fear of losing everything you had—the fear of losing him—kept you hanging on, just barely.

Wally swallowed hard, his fingers tracing slow, agonizing patterns against your skin. "You're dangerous," he whispered again, lower this time, rougher, as if the words were ripped straight from his chest. His hands tightened against your hips beneath the water, his eyes locked onto yours, searching for hesitation—begging for it, for a reason to stop.

But there was none.

The words slipped out of your mouth before you could even think. "Am I?"

His breath caught a subtle tremor in his jaw. "Don't tease me," he growled. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

But you did.

And so did he.

His forehead dipped to yours, his breathing uneven. Your hands slid up, curling around the back of his neck, fingers threading through his wet hair. His eyes squeezed shut like he was trying—really trying—to fight it.

But there was nothing left to fight.

You’d both lost this battle a long time ago.

"You know this changes everything," he whispered, his voice raw, breaking over the words. His thumb brushed your skin, so painfully slow, like he was memorizing you, like he was savoring this moment.

Your chest tightened. You knew he was right. You knew this was it—the point of no return.

But it was too late for second thoughts.

Your lips parted, breath shaking. His eyes darkened at the sight of your open mouth, the sounds of your shaky breath making his pulse quicken. He was undone. Completely undone. All his hesitation, his willpower, his good intentions. Gone. He was drowning in you.

"Maybe it should," you whispered.

A sharp inhale. His hands gripped you tighter, and his forehead dropped fully against yours. "You have no idea what you're saying."

You let out a soft, breathless laugh. "Oh, I think I do."

His head lifted just enough for your eyes to lock, his pupils blown wide, lips slightly parted. His mouth was right there. Just a little more...

"You don't fucking get it," he rasped, his hands sliding up, thumbs brushing the underside of your ribs. "If we do this—if I kiss you—I won’t be able to stop. I won’t be able to just pretend it didn’t happen. You know that, don’t you?”

Your pulse slammed in your throat, and you nodded, barely breathing.

His fingers traced slow, lazy circles against your skin, like he was trying to soothe himself, trying to keep his composure. But you could feel it—the tension radiating off him, the heat rolling off his body even beneath the water.

"What if I don't want you to stop?" you whispered.

His eyes darkened, the grip on your waist tightening, pressing into your skin, making you groan. You were sure he was going to leave bruises, but you didn’t care. 

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking as he sucked in a sharp breath through his nose. "You think this is a fucking game?"

“A little," you replied, a playful smirk dancing on your lips.

Wally let out a strained, bitter chuckle, but there was no humor in his eyes. No playfulness was left in the smile that painted his face. “You wanna keep playing?” he murmured, his voice rough, teasing, but there was an edge to it now, something deeper, dangerous. “Because I can play, sweetheart. But you better be ready for what happens when I stop holding back. When I stop pretending, we can go back to how things were. When I stop fucking pretending we're just friends.”

With a growl, he pushed you through the water until your back hit the edge of the pool. The impact and the feeling of the cold tiles sent a sharp shiver down your spine, making you gasp. The way he mandhandled you with such ease, his grip so possessive, the way his body caged you in completely, it made your head spin. 

His lips brushed yours—just barely. But it was enough to make your fingers clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, like he was the only thing keeping you standing.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered against your lips, pleading. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

You should say it. You should push him away, laugh it off, pretend like this was just another game, another moment of playful teasing between best friends who had spent years toeing the line.

But you didn’t.

Because you couldn’t.

Instead, your fingers crept up his neck, nails tracing the hard line of his jaw, tightening in his wet hair, pulling him closer, your body pressing against his beneath the water. You felt the way his breath stuttered, the way his fingers dug into your ribs, his thumb caressing your breasts, like he was barely hanging on.

Your lips brushed against his as you whispered, “I dare you.”

A sharp inhale. His hands tightened. "Don't," he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "I swear, if you keep looking at me like that—"

"Like what?" you interrupted, faking innocence as your fingers trailed down his chest, nails scraping over his hard muscles.

His breath left him in a shaky exhale. "Like you want this."

Your lips curled. "Who says I don't?"

A low groan rumbled from his chest, his restraint hanging by a thread. His hands slid down slowly, gripping, teasing, like he was testing himself—testing you. “You don’t get it.”

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I do," you whispered, your mouth just barely on his, so close he could feel your words on his skin. "You're the one who doesn't."

His jaw ticked. "Don't push me," he warned, his voice a painful growl. 

You tilted your head, dragging your nose against his. "Why? Afraid you'll give in?"

"Afraid I won't be able to stop."

A wicked smile danced on your lips as you leaned in, your mouth grazing the corner of his. Not a kiss—just a taste. "You know what I think?” you murmured, your teeth just barely scraping against his lips, leaving the most devastating kiss there. “I think you’ve thought about this. A lot.”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” you taunted him, your voice nothing but a breath, a challenge, a plea. "Just tell me I'm wrong, and we'll stop, we'll forget any of this happened, we'll just—"

His patience snapped.

His hands slid down your waist, gripping your thighs before he hoisted you up, forcing your legs to wrap around him. A choked gasp escaped your lips as you felt all of him, thick and hard, pressing right against your soaked core. A groan tore from his throat, guttural and desperate, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, bruising you. 

“Fuck,” he whimpered. “You keep grinding on me like that and I fucking swear–” His words cut off into a sharp inhale as you grinded against him again. 

You rolled your hips against him, dragging your slick heat over the hard ridge of his cock, and his entire body tensed.  

A sharp, wrecked groan tore from his throat, his grip turning bruising as he slammed your body harder against the cool tile. His mouth was on you in an instant—biting, licking, claiming—his teeth scraping your jaw, his tongue lapping at the spot he just marked, soothing it just to do it all over again. 

“Tell me to stop,” he rasped. 

You swallowed hard. The words were right there, on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say them.

Stop.

No, you wouldn’t. You didn’t want him to stop. You wanted him to keep going, to touch you right where you needed him the most, to make you his, to claim you, to possess you. You wanted to feel his lips on yours, on your entire body. You needed this, the release–you needed him. 

“Say. It.” His groan was raw, wrecked. His hands ghosted up your thighs, slow, teasing, so agonizingly close to where you needed them. “Tell me to fucking stop.”

You stayed silent. 

His lips curled into a dark smirk. “That’s what I fucking thought.”

His hands flexed, gripping your thighs tighter, dragging your hips flush against him, grinding against your core so hard and deep it made your breath catch.

“Fuck, you feel that?" he groaned, his voice rough dripping with need. "Feel how hard you make me? You did that, sweetheart. You."

His lips brushed your jaw, teasing, before his teeth sank into your skin—not enough to hurt, but enough to make you whimper. His tongue soothed the spot, only to bite again, harder this time.

"You don't think I've noticed? The way your eyes are on me when you think I'm not watching? The way your whole body reacts to me?"

His fingers dug into your hips, hard, making you gasp, dragging your body against him once more, letting you feel every single inch of how much he wanted you.

Fuck.

"You've been playing a dangerous game, baby," he growled. "Playing dumb, acting like all those little teases, all those flirty smiles, all those times you touched me without meaning to—like they didn't mean anything."

A dark chuckle rumbled from his chest.

"But we both know that's not true, don't we?" His grip became stronger by the minute, his fingers slithering lower, teasing the edge of your stomach, dancing along your skin with agonizing precision. He knew what he was fucking doing, he wanted to drive you insane, the same way you drove him to the brink of insanty.

"You know it's not true. Deep down, you always knew exactly what you've been doing to me."

And he was right.

Every glance, every touch, every smile, every almost—you’d been testing him, taunting him. Watching, waiting, wondering how far you could push before he snapped.

And now? He was breaking apart.

His fingers inched lower, making your entire body arch against him, desperate, aching, starving for more.

Please, please, please.

A gasp tore from your throat as his fingers finally found your aching clit, pressing down in slow, agonizing cirles.

Oh, fuck.

Your head fell back against the cool tile, your breath coming out in ragged pants. This was different. He was different. This wasn't the Wally you were used to—your best friend, the sweet, flirty, cocky, Wally who loved teasing you just as much as you teased him.

This was someone else, a completely different version of him you'd never seen before. Dangerous.

"I think you know how much I fucking want you," he groaned, his forehead pressed against yours, his eyes dark, desperate, completely feral with need. "And you've been pretending you don't feel it, too."

You swallowed hard, but no words would come out. What could you say? That he was wrong? That this was just another game?

It wasn't. Not anymore.

You'd crossed every line, and there was no going back.

Your entire body trembled as his fingers moved harder, faster, making your entire world narrow to the feeling of his fingers against your aching core.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, your breath coming in gasps, but you didn’t answer.

You couldn’t. Not when you were falling apart in his hands.

Not when you felt so good pressed against him.

So fucking good.

"And now, baby?" His tongue brushed over your lips, slowly. "Now you're gonna find out exactly what happens when you push me too fucking far."

Hi 👋😊, I think I finally have some ideas

Is it okay that I can send you some more ben plunkett requests? 😌

Can I please send you my first request?

Well the reader (fem pronouns) had a nightmare and he is just comforting her and is just super sweet to her. Please just fluff and maybe friends to lovers.

I thought about these prompts from this prompt list

"Lay your head on my shoulder and try to sleep."

"I'm going to be here when you wake up."

Please? Thank you 🥺😊🫂🫶

Sorry if it's too detailed 🙈

If you have some question or want another scenario, my messages and asks are always open 😌

Study routine// Ben Plunkett x fem!reader.

Summary: exams are on the corner, you and your best friend Ben have an excuse to spend more time together, just to study, right? Right???

Exam time was a bittersweet time for you. Many looked at you strangely when you said it, considering that for others, it was a time that was simply... bitter. But not everyone could understand that for you. This time meant something more. Those were the only weeks where you could spend the whole day locked in your room with Ben Plunkett. Usually, his visits to your house were accompanied by "keep the door open", "it's time to say goodbye, show Ben out the door" or embarrassing interactions between your mother and Ben where they always ended up making fun of you. But during exam time, your parents would let Ben spend the whole day in your room, with the door closed and no distractions. The good grades that followed the end of the school year had reassured your parents, and besides, you couldn't think of a better study partner.

You were going home straight from high school, taking the long way home so you could listen to all the music you couldn't listen to during study hours.

"We should order pizza today," Ben suggested.

"No, we had hamburgers for dinner yesterday, I feel bad for spending weeks feeding myself such greasy food..." You rebutted him. Ben gave you a sideways glance before smiling and denying.

"Stop pretending you don't think it's a dream to have pizza for dinner, breakfast, and snacks."

You smiled too but folded your arms.

"You're not denying me? Too bad, it would have been funny if you had refused only to tell you that I'm already turning to go to the pizzeri."

You let out a laugh, and when you were already ordering at the counter, you took the reins, ordering everything to your liking and knowing that Ben would hold out for whatever you ordered.

"Do you pay by card or cash?" The boy at the counter asked.

"I don't know, ask Ben."

And you stepped back, letting him talk to him. Ben turned to you with a panicked face and moved his lips to tell you voicelessly that he was going to kill you.

"With cash, please."

He put down the bill and put his arm around your neck, playfully shoving you and ruffling your hair as you laughed.

Your parents greeted Ben with their usual cheerfulness, and continued watching TV when they saw that you were ready to start studying. Of course, Ben had offered to give them one of the pizzas you had ordered, which your mother loved, your father accepted, your mother flatly declined, and your father declined almost immediately.

"You're a sweetheart, Ben..." your mother had said, and so you repeated it as soon as you closed the door.

"Of course I am, I bought you pizza."

"If we had salads for dinner, I would have bought them myself."

"Yeah, but you would have made me cry... and no amount of money can heal a broken heart."

"You underestimate the amount of money I would have paid to watch you passive aggressively poke lettuce while crying in a corner."

"You would have thrown money away because you could see me like that during visits to my aunt's house during Christmas."

You laughed and tossed him pen to ask him to start concentrating. You continued the afternoon as you did during studying, introducing and explaining subjects to each other, correcting each other, and in the case of algebra, watching youtube tutorials in silence. Studying with Ben was like a library session, with its silences and repetitions. After a day with him, all the time felt rewarding, and all the learning was useful. You also liked this time because it left you no room to think about the strange feelings your best friend aroused in you, you just enjoyed and studied, the doubts would come later. The pizza was delicious, although it was already cold, and Ben told you about last weekend when he was forced to visit his grandparents. When you went back to studying, the topic you had left to solve was one of the most difficult for you.

"Do you understand it yet?" he asked you after explaining it to you for the fourth time. You nodded, but your eyes glazed over. "Hey, hey, it's okay, I can explain it again..."

"It's just that it's a very important point, and I'm going to fail it..."

"No, you're not going to fail it because I'll make sure you understand it."

You smiled at him and watched him turn a little red. Suddenly moved again by your feelings, you had to look away from him, and you became aware of the whole mess running around the room.

"I'm going to throw away the pizza cartons. Do you want something from the kitchen?" You offered.

"No, but let me help you."

He came downstairs with you, and you were both surprised at the silence in the house. Your parents were chatting quietly in the kitchen, already in their pajamas.

"Wow..." you said, looking at them quizzically, "what time is it?"

"Half past eleven, honey," said your mother.

"Well, I'd better get going then," Ben seemed startled, tossing the empty boxes in the trash and intending to start packing up.

"Ben, wait!" You asked, and he stopped. And not knowing why you had that impulse, you turned to your parents for help. Your mother understood you instantly.

"You don't have to go...stay the night" she offered and you smiled at her gratefully. Ben hesitated, glanced at your father, who nodded in passing, he'd known Ben for a long time now, and looked back at you.

"Sure, if it's no trouble at all," he said at last.

"None. I just think it's a better idea if you don't keep studying. It's important to sleep to retain, " your mother assured him, looked back at you, and winked.

"It doesn't take much convincing to get me to stop studying," Ben joked.

You went back up to your room, set up the mattress with blankets and pillows that Ben had once used from previous sleepovers. Although you didn't remember that the last time he stayed over was a few years ago, and from your bed you saw how the blanket fell short, and his feet were sticking out. You laughed at the image, and he threw a pillow at you.

"Listen to your mother, go to sleep," he scolded.

"I can't...I'm afraid of the giant teenager who has snuck into my room," you told him in a little girl voice, something you knew irritated him.

"I'm more afraid of the farts you might bomb me with at night after pizzas."

Jokingly, you turned off the light, wished each other good night, and promptly fell asleep. Or at least he did. You fell into a terrible nightmare. You were walking along the road that led to the institute, at night and alone. It was cold, and you didn't seem to get anywhere, no matter how far you walked. Suddenly, a car appeared, and as it approached, you noticed that you recognized it, Ben's car. You were glad to see him, and he seemed to see you. He was speeding up to pick you up as soon as possible, and as he was approaching, the car was going too fast, and Ben couldn't stop. He had already left you behind when he disappeared into the darkness, without hearing you call out to him, and you began to scream and cry. Then you noticed shaking, your name, and when you opened your eyes, you saw Ben, illuminated by the little light from the window.

"Hey, hey...easy...wake up, it was just a bad dream..." he whispered to you.

"Ben...thank goodness..." You soothed, hugging him, which surprised him.

"Yes, I'm here. I heard you had a nightmare about me."

"You left me alone on the road, at night..." you told him, releasing him just a little.

"Some asshole I am in your subconscious, aren't I?"

He smiles at you, and you smiled back, somewhat embarrassed that you had woken him up. He wanted to go back to his bed, but your hesitation to let go of his hand made him think you might not want to. He was right. He lay down next to you.

"I hate having nightmares. Whenever I have one, I always have a worse one afterwards."

"You'll have to risk it, you need to rest" he insisted. "Lay your head on my shoulder and try to sleep."

You looked at him with sheepish eyes, afraid to dream about him again. He smiled at you, and some of his confidence rubbed off on you. After all, they were just dreams. You would forget about them in the course of the day. Ben kissed you on the forehead, something he had never done before, before whispering something to you.

"I'm going to be here when you wake up."

You didn't have any nightmares again, in fact, you woke up rested. It was Ben who had a little more trouble waking up. You watched him for a second...yes, you were definitely a little more in love with your best friend than you thought. You had to make a great effort not to think too much about that kiss on your forehead, and you were so nervous about your exams that you didn't notice how flushed Ben was when he remembered he was sleeping in your bed, you next to him. He had memorized the smell of your hair, and feeling your weight on his had lulled him into a sweet sleep he never wanted to wake up from.

Every exam you finished was a reason to get together, always giving each other a hug that attracted the eyes of all the classmates, you reviewed the subjects without being able to avoid being distracted, and Ben loved to review outdoors because the air stirred your hair and he had an excuse to put your hair back in place. You even felt sorry for yourself on the last day of exams, Ben was going to a family meal, and you were back to eating normal food, sleeping alone and spending the evening with people who weren't your best friends. The messages were constant, but never enough. You had just finished reading the approved notes from your email when you heard Ben's car pull up in front of your house. That one subjet that worried you the most, approved. You ran to greet him, shouting your A's into the air, and Ben responded with his in return. He grabbed you as soon as you approached, squeezing you against him, full of joy.

"This deserves a reward," you said.

"Have you missed pizza as your only food as much as I have?

No, you hadn't missed the pizza. You had missed him.

"Of course I have," you lied.

You let him order at his taste that time, which surprised him. You sat at one of the smaller tables, waiting to be served.

"I'm surprised you let me have so much freedom," Ben said, half smiling, half confused.

"Well, it's just that... you've really helped me a lot, what less than letting you choose.

"Helping you with what exactly?"

"Well...studying." You felt the colours rise in your cheeks.

"Just like you helped me study."

"Well... Ben, in general, you help me with everything. You make everything so... fun."

Now he was blushing. He stood closer to you.

"I hope you know that you make everything better too..."

"I'm a little annoying, maybe."

"A little," he joked. "And I like that I'm the one who sees that side of you."

"Really?"

"I really do. I love that you dream about me, even if I'm an asshole in it."

"Don't be silly, it was a nightmare precisely because you left me alone. And I just want you to be with me."

Your tone was much more serious. Your expression made it clear that you meant it, that your gratitude was a confession.

"You know what's funny? I dream about you too. But not when I sleep...I dream awake, imagining what we will say to each other when I pick you up from home, or what we will tell each other when we go out to eat together...I dream of spending the whole day with you and I am content to be with you for a while because it is...wonderful. But no matter how much I dream, nothing is better than being able to hug you and be by your side, even if it's only for five minutes between classes."

That's when you couldn't help but jump in for a kiss, cutting the distance between you two. A tender, long kiss, it felt new and yet so recognizable, like something that should have happened a long time ago. Luckily, it had just happened. You pulled away and watched as Ben smiled, an idea formulating in his head and joked.

"Too bad we have to wait for spring exams to spend the day together again."

You pushed him back with a laugh, but he moved his chair to stand next to you and kiss you again. Everything Ben did justified the fact that the pizzas he ordered were terrible.

A/N: sorry this took fucking forever, I gave up on writing here, I had a crisis over writing smuts. But I felt bad about abandoning this cuz I started writing it with a lot of love and I really like it. I think I'll write on tumblr again. Hope you like it, so sorry for the wait.

girl why is it giving scooby doo and the mystery gang ??

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE RUIN MY LIFE

Wally so would have loved High school musical. Ngl I see him as a swiftie

rip charley you would’ve loved chappell roan

rip wally you would’ve loved high school musical

rip yuri you would’ve loved dead poets society

rip janet you would’ve loved ethel cain

rip rhonda you would’ve loved grease: rise of the pink ladies

rip quinn you would’ve loved rebel robin

Masterlist

October Sun

Wally Clark x fem!reader

you had a secret. one that you'd been sworn to keep since your first conscious thought. you hadn't planned on making your abilities known, but when devilishly handsome Wally Clark—died October 1983—accidentally reveals that your classmate and friend is among the community of ghosts haunting your high school, you throw caution to the wind. suddenly, you find yourself completely immersed in the mystery of Maddie's death while also at the mercy of a wayward lust connection between yourself and Wally, desperate to keep your head above water as your relationship to the spiritual world is tested.

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

below is the complete list of chapters of October Sun. you can also find all related content HERE as well as reformatted chapters on AO3.

~ 🧡👻

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5

PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8 | PART 9 | PART 10

PART 11 | PART 12 | PART 13 | PART 14 | PART 15

PART 16 | PART 17 | PART 18 | PART 19 | PART 20

PART 21 | PART 22 | PART 23 | PART 24 | PART 25

PART 26 | PART 27: SEASON FINALE

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Masterlist

October Moon

Wally Clark x fem!reader

following the events of October Sun, Xavier isn't speaking to you, Simon can see ghosts (all of them), Rhonda's suddenly open to Mr. Martin's guidance, and you and Wally don't know how to make heads or tails of any of it. The Something-Something of Dagda is still out there, you believe, and you're no closer to uncovering who the bad guy really is and where they stashed Maddie's body. if that's even what happened to it since now you know, terrifyingly, that bodies can be stolen and there's a woman still out there who knows how to do it.

warnings: smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

below is the complete list of chapters of October Moon. you can also find all related content HERE as well as reformatted chapters on AO3.

~ 💜👻

PROLOGUE | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8

PART 9 | PART 10 | PART 11 | PART 12: SEASON FINALE