I- Slowly... I Slowly Start To Be Seductive By Him Like He Startin To Seduce Me

Fifty Seven

summary: prompt fill. 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. (request)

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: fluff. AU - pre-canon. dorks falling in love. author doesn't know American football. total disregard for canon lore. HEA.

bon reading, frens

___________________________🏈

Fifty Seven

It was gradual, how things developed between you and Wally. Slow and peripheral at first. Then, like a confetti cannon—pop💥—instant, exciting; a pocket of fresh air in a dense smog. And it was all thanks to Wally's best friend, Rodney.

See, Wally was a baseball guy. Had planned to continue being a baseball guy through high school. He was an excellent pitcher with an impressive BA, and his mama had been over-the-top supportive for Wally to join the team—believed in him so much that she'd even strongarmed Coach Burns to let Wally try out for varsity.

But Rodney? Had wanted to join the football team. And Wally had wanted to do everything with his inseparable since birth best buddy, so he'd found himself donning a helmet and nailing technical drills like it was paint-by-numbers. Obviously, he'd made the team. Had started winning games, gained popularity and praise and attention from girls. Had fast become Coach's MVP only to, in sophomore year, be transferred to the varsity team. Go Devils!

That'd meant training longer, playing harder, and receiving interested elevator-looks from the hottest chicks in school. Seniors who'd graduated out of the awkwardness of puberty and had learned how to flaunt their curves. Don't worry, Rodney had been along for the ride, built like a brick shithouse and equally as formidable on the field, and he'd kept Wally humble.

Not that he'd needed to, because the thing about attention was the more Wally got, the less he was seen.

Yeah, he was the star receiver, the guy whose name everyone knew. But...that was about all they knew about him. People summed him up to the number on his jersey. Shallow. Detached. The girls he took on dates wanted the infamy of having made out with him—"he's such a fantabulous kisser,"—and the guys admired the hell out of him, clapped his back and handed him beers, but no one expressed an interest in peeling back flesh and bone to see what made Wally tick.

Wally wasn't lonely; he had Rodney and Don and Keith. BFFs since kindergarten who gave a real shit about him. It was just that, if people approached him to ask questions, he wanted it to feel less like an interview and more like a connection. Small talk was exhausting.

He'd been contemplating this when you'd first popped onto his radar. Shooting hoops in the gym at lunch to brood over his latest failed effort with a girl—Sarah Miller from History—when, oh shit, look out!, you'd walked through the door the second Wally had decided to unleash his frustration by whipping the ball at the wall. He'd overcompensated. The ball had curved to the left. Smack, you'd taken it square in the head.

Somehow, you hadn't been hurt, though the sound had convinced Wally you should've had a bruise blossoming on the area of impact. He'd run over, eyes wide in panic, visually checking you over to ensure he hadn't concussed you.

He'd rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah," You'd grinned, friendly, not even a little bit upset, "Happens more than you think." Which would've raised flags if Wally hadn't been preoccupied by how your proximity smelled like summer.

After a moment of uncertainty, Wally had stuck out his hand and introduced himself, "I'm Wally Clark. I, uh... I'm better at football." He'd felt like in idiot five seconds later when you'd merrily declared:

"I know," still smiling like he hadn't just thoroughly embarrassed himself. "You always feint left." Then, in general consideration, "I'm surprised no one's figured that out yet."

Wally had stared at you in surprise, "I mean... I do what feels right in the moment."

You'd raised your hands, "I'm just saying, your recovery's weak on your left backfoot, so you might wanna switch it up soon."

Wally had crashed through a gamut of emotions in under a second, beginning with insecurity and ending in shockawe. Because you'd noticed something. And, okay, yes, it'd been jersey-number related, but it hadn't been how well he filled out his uniform.

"You come to the games?" He'd wondered as he'd valiantly ignored how his stomach had started to feel squirmy.

You'd nodded, "You're fun to watch." And you'd said it so...casually. Like it'd been part of the Split River High zeitgeist: The stadium became a sardine can because Number 57, Wally Clark, was fun to watch.

"So, I guess you're gonna be there tomorrow?" He'd asked, the seed of an unfamiliar sense of intrigue planted. He'd watched you tilt your head, watched your eyes light up when you'd smiled. Wally had felt his cheeks heat and his eyes go soppy in response.

"That's the plan, Stan," You'd gleefully confirmed.

That'd been where it'd all started.

You and he hadn't become friends or anything like that, but Wally had felt a connection. Like you and he had clicked. From then on, he'd sought you out in the crowd at every game. Where's Waldo between plays. You'd never been in the same place twice, and as soon as he'd find you, you'd hold up a poster-board boasting a glittery '57' in school blue, and cheer him on with gusto.

It'd swiftly become Wally's favorite part of playing football.

Tonight, Wally was mid-search, batting away Rodney's reminder that the team planned to hit Max's Diner after the game, win or lose, when Number 36, Matt Wilson, advised, "Dude, don't interrupt. It's like a good-luck ritual at this point."

Rodney frowned, "What're talking about?"

Even Wally broke his concentration and swiveled his head to look at Matt in confusion.

With a snort, Matt pointed out, "Clark always looks for the girl, finds her, then plays harder than ever and we win the game. He's been doing it for weeks." He shrugged, "I mean, whatever works, right?"

He did? Huh. He guessed he did...

"You got a girlfriend and didn't say anything?" Rodney accused, a little hurt. "Ouch."

"It's not like that," Wally assured him, though he felt his cheeks flush and his lips curve into a dopey smile.

Rodney studied Wally for a moment and then, "Alright, my man, what's her name?" A big, teasing grin on his face.

Wally opened his mouth to answer before he realized, shit, he actually had no idea. You hadn't given him your name the afternoon he'd accidentally pelted you with a basketball.

"You're not serious." Rodney said flatly, "you don't even know her name?" while Matt slapped his knee and crowed.

Wally was about to defend himself when, just over Rodney's shoulder, there you were, gaze already on him. His insides instantly went gooey, broad smile stretched across his face, and Rodney leveled him with an unimpressed look that Wally refused to acknowledge.

"For the love of God, ask for her name." Rodney commanded before he stuck his mouthguard between his teeth.

The whistle blew and the game continued.

The Devils won.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Taking Rodney's suggestion was somewhat harder than Wally had anticipated. He just couldn't bring himself to do it, nerves piqued whenever he caught sight of you in the hall. He wasn't a nervous guy—Wally was a big, brave boy, thank you very much—but something about you made him stutter and overthink and, aaah, what would he even say!? Hey, thanks for coming to watch me play after I hit you in the face. Also, what's your name, girl who I share a new, ongoing at-game tradition?

Lame.

He needed more information. ✨A r e a s o n✨. Some unavoidable situation wherein Wally had to go up to you that didn't insist upon itself. Or he could actually be a big, brave boy and just say hi as casually as you'd told Wally he was fun to watch.

Between the last game and the next, Wally began gathering facts from a distance (while Rodney's gaze burned a hole into the side of Wally's head).

He learned that you sat with a group of sophomores in the cafeteria, laughing along yet not interjecting, comfortable giving the stage to your friends. Being a year below him explained why Wally hadn't noticed you before, but since that fateful day in the gym, he hadn't been able to stop noticing you.

You were quiet, though not in a shy way. You often spent time in the library—or, rather, you were always in the library when Wally happened to be, nose in a book on the windowsill. You stepped aside to let people go through a door first, and smiled at everyone; and on Mondays and Thursdays your fingers and jeans were smeared with charcoal from your Art class.

Your clothes changed, but your shoes didn't. Beat up Converse you clearly loved to death. You carried around a Sony walkman like the one Keith had, headphones on in the mornings and around your neck in the afternoons. Wally wanted to know what music you listened to.

Truth be told, he wanted to know a lot of things. Like your favorite movie and what you did in your spare time. If you went to parties or preferred to stay home and play boardgames (he wouldn't mind trading a sticky ping-pong ball for a Monopoly shoe). Were you strictly a cassette girl or did you listen to vinyl, too? Bike or license? Star Trek or Star Wars? Tom or Jerry?

God, Wally had it bad. He wanted to know everything. Every detail.

And, finally, after several failed attempts to muster the courage to cold approach you, ✨a r e a s o n✨ fell into Wally's lap and he decided it was now or never.

Practice had just ended. He was loose and warm and in a good mood, and after saying goodbye to the guys on the field, he turned and saw you sitting alone on the bleachers. Headphones on like a headband, the earpieces behind your ears. You scribbled in a notebook, tongue peeking out of the corner of your mouth, clearly 100% focused on whatever you were working on.

Wally's eyes softened and his heartbeat sped up. You were adorable.

Clearing his throat to announce himself, he climbed the bleachers and shuffled across the middle bench to take a seat beside you.

"Hey," He smiled, broad and hopefully not too eager.

Your head lifted and you smiled back.

Wally melted inside.

"Hi, Wally Clark," You said as you closed your notebook and shifted to give him your full attention. "Not practicing your free throws today?" You teased with a glint in your eye.

Wally ducked his head as he chuckled, "Nah, not today. I decided to leave that to the professionals."

"Mm, yeah, that might be for the best," And then, fixing him with a cheeky grin, "You know, if dodgeball ever becomes a recognized sport, you should totally join a team."

Wally pressed his lips together, doing his best to hide how big his smile would be otherwise, before he glanced at you with a raised brow, "Oh. So, you're funny?"

You giggled like sweet melody, "Let's call it observant."

He released his smile, heart fluttering in his chest, eyes flickering across your face to take in every detail. There was something in him—a magnet behind his ribs—that drew Wally toward you. He couldn't explain it. Barely knew you enough to label it as more than attraction, but it was more. His gaze dipped to your lips, traced the shape of your smile, then skirted back up to meet your eyes.

"Alright, let's call it observant." He agreed, his smile somehow widening.

After a moment of comfortable silence, "Your feints are getting better," you commented, "I can't predict which way you're gonna go anymore."

And he positively preened; spine straight, chest puffed out, proud to have earned your admiration. Maybe that's what'd always been missing. He'd never had to work for it, everyone throwing themselves at his feet just for a split second of his attention. Wally had always been approached, never had to do the approaching.

Was that the thrill of the chase?

No. Of course not. You weren't the deer to his crosshairs. But he had to admit, it was nice that he could trust you weren't talking to him to get something out of it. Which is probably why, before he could stop himself, Wally blurted:

"Do you wanna hang out tomorrow?"

You seemed surprised, brows shooting up. Still, your smile remained and, with a chuckle, you nodded, "That would be nice." And then, eyes narrowing, "Nowhere that involves you having to throw things, though, right?"

Hand to his heart, "I'll save it for the field," Wally promised, suddenly feeling giddy and overwhelmed. He had to resist the urge to bite his lip in excitement. Raked his fingers through his hair and glanced bashfully away to compose himself.

"Very appreciated." You bumped your shoulder against his arm.

The brief contact ignited a thousand butterflies to take flight in his belly. He stood, gathered his sports bag and beamed down at you. You looked back, all cute and sweet and appearing nowhere near as affected as Wally felt which made him feel a little silly for the intensity of his body's reactions to you.

"How about the arcade...around 3?" He suggested, putting as much confidence behind his words as he could.

After a moment's thought, "Can we make it in the evening? Say around 6?" You asked.

"Yeah," Wally replied, "Yeah, we can make it 6." He took a couple of backward steps, "I can pick you up at your place."

You shook your head, "I'll meet you there."

"Great, it's a date," He nearly choked when he registered what he'd said, face absolutely flaming, though he didn't take it back. He almost tripped over his own feet when you didn't correct him.

Instead, all you said was, "Can't wait."

You didn't see it—God, he hoped you didn't see it—but as soon as he was off the bleachers and a good enough distance away, Wally fist pumped, practically vibrating out of his skin. Holy crap, he was going on a date with you! He was going to spend time with you, get to know you, connect with you the way he'd always wanted to connect with someone outside of Rodney, Don, and Keith.

It was only when he was in his car and on his way home to shower that he realized he still didn't know your name.

He could hear Rodney's eyeroll from there.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

You'd noticed Wally from the start. It was difficult not to, the guy a high-rise human, towering over most of the student body. But, it wasn't just his physical presence. Nor was it how good he was at attracting attention on and off the field with his exuberance and abundance of energy.

It was the moments between the jokes he made with his friends. Between performing for the crowd when he led the Devils to victory. The somber, introspective moments he thought he had to himself. And he did, for the most part. You'd never meant to intrude. It just so happened that he often used the same spaces you did to find peace.

You weren't surprised that he hadn't noticed you before he'd lodged a basketball at your head. Few people did. Not bitterly; that was just simply how things had befallen you and you'd learned to adjust. In fact, you had approximately two people you considered close and had realized that was more than enough. Still, you enjoyed meeting people where you could. They were fascinating. And, these days, none were so fascinating as Wally Clark.

He had hands that swallowed whatever they held; a smile that brightened a room; and eyes that made your skin tingle, their gaze soulful and heavy whenever they landed on you at his games like a prize. You craved those eyes on you, a flower to sunlight, and were excited beyond measure that you'd have them all to yourself for a night.

When he'd asked you out, it'd taken everything in your power not to kick your feet and giggle in delight. Be cool, you'd told yourself, acting as though you hadn't been daydreaming about Wally Clark since you'd first heard his name in the halls. What you wouldn't have given to spend more of Saturday with him, but things were somewhat strange for you, and you'd had to shave the hours down.

As restrictive as it was, you were only able to go out when the town was sleepier. The streets less crowded, the energy laggard; the shadows darker and the moon visible. You had hard rules to follow, but after sundown, no one paid attention to your whereabouts. You could sneak out unnoticed and do as you pleased so long as you were back before anyone knew you'd been gone.

It sucked, but it was what it was and there was nothing you could do about it, so you'd set the time for your date with Wally later and hoped you'd be satisfied with the hours you and he did get to be together.

When you arrived at the arcade, Wally was already there, leaning against the exterior wall, hands shoved in his pockets, his expression transforming from teen mag sultry to puppy bright when he caught sight of you. Don't squeal, don't squeal, don't squeal—you did great, kid—you waved sweetly and took measured steps toward him, matching his expression with a happy one of your own.

"Hey, you made it," Wally said as if he'd been worried you'd flake.

"Like I'd miss the chance to kick your ass at Space Invaders." You scoffed, hands on your hips as you pinned him with a challenging look.

Wally laughed and the sound when straight to your chest, settled between your ribs, and you knew your eyes were likely doing something dreamy and dazed. If he noticed, he didn't comment; held out his arm like a gentleman and escorted you inside.

You did, in fact, kick his ass at Space Invaders.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Whatever, you may have beaten him at Space Invaders, but Wally wiped the floor with you at Time Pilot. To further impress you with his skills, he won you a prize from the claw crane. Overlooking the fact that it'd taken several coins and a lot of cursing, Wally felt like the king of the world having handed over a plastic ball stuffed with enough raffle tickets that you could take home a plastic necklace.

He looked for any and every opportunity to touch you; grazed the back of his hand across yours, then, bolder, squeezed you into his side as you and he moved between machines. Just as you were about to beat his score at Pac Man, he grabbed you around the waist and spun you away from the control panel, watching triumph when the monitor announced Game Over and Wally's score beat yours by more points than you could come back from.

You shrieked and giggled when he slung you over his shoulder to carry you to the new air hockey table. You sprung into his arms when he defended your honor at the foosball table against another pair of patrons. By the end of the night, he had your hand in his, fingers laced, as he walked you home.

It'd been the most fun he'd had in—God—forever. Yeah, he hung out with the guys, went camping and played videogames and did things. Always busy, always entertained. Or, rather, he did the entertaining. A constant performance to keep people interested. Tonight, with you, it'd been different. He was relaxed, completely at ease, feeling like himself for the first time in too many years. His chest felt lighter.

When you and he reached your house, not too far from the arcade, you stopped and positioned yourself to face him, beautiful smile on your face that softened under his gaze. He didn't want tonight to end. Wished it could go on through tomorrow and the next day and the one after that.

"That was a lot of fun, Wally," You murmured as you stepped closer, bottom lip caught between your teeth in a way that made his heartrate spike and his head foggy.

He nodded, "Yeah," and lifted a hand to trail his fingertips along the slope of your jaw, "I wanna do it again, like, now."

You chuckled, and when did your lips get so close to his? "You just wanna try and beat my Donkey Kong score." You accused, breath hitching when the tip of his nose grazed your cheek.

Wally couldn't refute that, but didn't want to, his mind already on other things. Better things. Things like—his lips brushed yours, soft and gentle at first, testing the waters, and when you gasped so prettily, he pressed in. Kissed you slow, his hand climbing to rest on the back of your head to angle you just right. The kiss let in and took out, over and over, until Wally was breathless and dizzy.

He kept you there, one hand trailing down your side to your hip, the other tangling in your hair, for what felt like hours though it must've only been several minutes. He couldn't let go. Couldn't stop. Your tongue against his the most incredible thing he'd ever tasted.

But, eventually, you had to pull away, "It's late."

He kissed you one more time for the road, watched you stealthily maneuver around the side of your house and disappear around the corner, probably to sneak back into your room before anyone realized you'd been gone. Something about the fact that you'd risked getting in trouble for him thrilled Wally.

Once you were out of sight, Wally turned in the direction of home, an obvious bounce in his step as he replayed the night—the kiss, how your lips had yielded under his—on a loop.

Again, it wasn't until much later that he remembered he still hadn't asked for your name.

Fuck.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

In typical 1980s fashion, this movie had a montage that Wally revisited almost obsessively. Sure, things had progressed rather quickly between you and him; one minute you were the stranger he viciously—but not on purpose!—attacked with a ball, and the next you were every thought, desire, emotion, response Wally was capable of.

After sundown, like hoodlums, he took you to the roller rink and skated on legs made of Jell-O because you insisted you needed his limbs to support your stilted efforts. Except, as soon as a single-digit child cried his frustration, there you were, a professional ballerina on wheels, teaching the child how to balance and move. You weren't even sheepish when you fessed up to the ruse.

"I like how it feels," You said simply, shrugged, and tucked yourself into Wally's side to prove the point, "You feel safe."

Yeah, Wally couldn't argue to save his life, addicted to how you felt in his arms as much as you seemed drawn to be there. You and he danced under the colored lights, spun and chased and discoed like divas, deliberately falling into each other at every chance. Wally didn't complain when you brought him to the ground with you after a miscalculated dip.

Days later, you and he jumped and screamed along to live music (the lyrics all totally wrong, but the melody right), crashing bodies pressing you together. Halfway through the concert, the surrounding mania receded as he rocked you gently, kissed you with meaning in the eye of a mosh pit; squawked when you poked his side to tickle him and then booked it through the crowd for an impromptu, wild game of hide-n-seek.

An empty movie theater for a screening of last year's horror films. Popcorn missiles thrown when he dared suggest Halloween was better than My Bloody Valentine. Finger to his lips, his hand firm around yours, crouched as he led you into another theater after the first movie. Four altogether, most of them ignored in favor of making out in the back row until an usher kicked you and Wally out for inappropriate behavior.

Heads close, toes pointed toward opposite walls, listening to Nebraska in a patch of moonlight on Wally's bedroom floor after a grueling week of exams and Wally's mama nagging him to get fitted for new skates before hockey season. He turned his head, admired your profile, lashes fanned on the arches of peach-blushed cheeks. His heart fluttered and his eyes softened as he watched you doze to the music. Between Used Cars and Open All Night, Wally propped himself on an elbow and kissed you upside-down. Chuckled when you nipped his chin and retaliated by adjusting his position, pinning you beneath his body, and kissing you senseless.

Throughout it all, you never missed a game, football or hockey or lacrosse. You'd put an end to the scavenger hunt, now a pillar of motivation—front row, center—and waved that glittery poster with an enthusiasm that outshone his mama's. The new arrangement made it easier for Wally, sweaty and hot, to leap over the barrier and lift and twirl you after each victory. Or, alternatively, for you to hurdle into his arms to comfort and reassure him after each loss.

Over the summer, Wally reminisced fondly on his junior year and everything you and he had done together. He missed you, a deep ache in his heart while your family apparently traveled for the months between school years. You wrote letters and used payphones to speak to him every Wednesday and Saturday, and it helped sustain him until you returned, but, God, he couldn't wait to see you again. To have you cuddled against him on the couch or in his lap on the bleachers at lunch or under him in his bed.

He craved you like a bad habit. Your scent, your touch, your taste. The soft affection you and he traded; lips stamped to a shoulder, fingers carding through each other's hair. How Wally held you, arm banded around your chest, hand under your chin to angle your face up so he could kiss you from behind.

Soon, he reminded himself. Three more days and he'd have his girl at his side again.

His girl whose name continued to elude him.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

The night of the '83 Homecoming game, Wally felt a dread unlike he'd ever felt before. A lump of lead in his stomach. He had you in his lap. Light, gentle brushes of his lips memorized the shape of your neck and jaw, his arms tight around you, as you helped distract him from his uncharacteristic pre-game nerves.

"I'll be right there, Wally Clark," You promised with a sweet smile.

And you were. In the seat beside his mama when the crack of bone echoed across the stadium like thunder.

He spent the following weeks oscillating between grief and rage, too consumed by the confusion and fear and loss of his own life to find the strength to seek you out. He didn't want to know how you handled it. Him. His no-longer-thereness. If you were as deeply sad as he was or if you could move on and make it through. Wally didn't think he could handle it if he saw you smile again if he wasn't responsible for it.

Eventually, though, he couldn't deny it anymore. Had to see you. That magnetic pull led him to find you outside, basking in the December sun, no jacket, laying across the middle bench on the bleachers that overlooked the field behind the school.

He climbed up and took a quiet seat beside you. You didn't look any different. Serene, in fact, as you lay there, your notebook rested on the bench above. Wally sighed heavily, traced the air around your cheek as breath choked and his heart shattered. He had so much he wanted to say to you, but didn't know where to begin—I miss you, I wish I didn't die, I need to hold you again. Sentiments that didn't make a difference anymore. He gazed at your notebook and wondered if you'd written anything about him.

And then, to his surprise:

"I was wondering how long it would take before you'd come find me."

His eyes whipped to you and he saw you staring up at him, neck craned back slightly and a warm grin on your face.

"Y-you can see me!?" Wally gaped as you sat up and scooched closer to him.

"Of course I can." You said so easily that Wally had to think for a second if he was supposed to understand how it was possible. No one else had been able to see him, hear him, feel him.

"...how?"

You giggled, the sound a boon to his despairing soul, "Being dead isn't so bad, you know. I mean, it sucks, but you get used to it pretty quick." Taking his hand in yours, fingers laced, "And, when the memory of you starts to fade, you can even leave the school at night. I'd consider that something to look forward to, no?"

"I guess," Wally wheezed as his brain tried desperately to catch up to what was happening.

"Or," You went on, "and hear me out. Eventually you can talk to people again. Just the ones who didn't know you, but still. Variety."

The gears turned in Wally's head. He stared at you, bewildered, lost, hopeful, elated, "You're dead?" One, two beats, "You were dead the whole time?"

You smiled and nodded, leaned away from him to hold out your other hand for him to shake. That's when he heard it for the first time, your name, the syllables like angelic melody to his ears. You added, "Class of '57. Nice to meet you."

"But...I walked you home. I saw your house."

"You saw a house." You corrected.

He couldn't believe it. You were dead. You were like Wally. You were with Wally.

Without hesitation, Wally scooped you into his arms and kissed you like he'd wanted to since he'd risen from his body. He soaked up all the comfort and reassurance and love you offered with your lips. The idea of eternity no longer seemed so permanent and awful with you in it.

You pulled away just enough to bump the tip of your nose against his, that smile he adored melting every worry and fear that'd followed him off the field.

"So, how do you wanna spend your afterlife, Wally Clark? We could play dodgeball now that you know you can't actually hurt me."

He felt a grin form, wide and joyful, and answered, "Whatever you want." After a soft lull that Wally used to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and cup your cheek, "I just wanna spend it with you." His girl, whose name he would treasure forever in his heart.

fin.

🏈___________________________

also on AO3!

My Shayla’s

GOD, I WISH HE WERE REAL BECAUSE I'M NOT HAVING A GOOD TIME RIGHT NOW

You Belong with Me 💙🏈📖

Wally Clark x fem reader Y/N slow burn story

Part 10:

This part will be in Wally’s POV (so when you read “you” or “I” its referring to Wally and not your character.)

Summary:

Wally reflects over the past couple of weeks. His death, his new afterlife, his best friend’s death, being stuck in the “in between”, other ghosts, homecoming, his own memorial, and the Halloween dance where he realizes he may have some feelings he didn’t know he had.

The last few weeks have been overwhelming. Not only did I die but also my best friend Y/N on the same day. We have been stuck in school the place I couldn’t wait to leave behind and begin a new chapter, because as soon as I try to leave, some force pushes me back to the place I died. And to find out there are others that have been here for 20 plus years, haunting the halls waiting for their chance to cross over. Then there was this overwhelming fear of being stuck here for entirety. If I didn’t have Y/N I think I would have lost my mind. Then there was the homecoming dance and as well as our joint memorial service and seeing our family and I still haven’t fully expressed how that felt. Seeing my mom and dad and not for them to hear me and hold me. Not only that I had to be there for Y/N. she is in the exact same spot as me. Eager to talk to her family and tell them she is ok. And, not knowing when you will see them again. I had to be strong for her to comfort her and hold on to my emotions because God, she was there for me when I crashed out before it was my turn to be the strong one.

3 weeks go past since our deaths, and I am getting more comfortable with the concept of being here. The other ghosts are great especially Tommy. He has become a quick friend someone who I can talk to since he has been here for a year. Then there were the group sessions run by Mr Martin. He is still wanting us to write our obituaries to help us cope with our death and help us move on and not hold on to the living world as much. The Halloween dance came, and Y/N and I still got to do our group costumes as Rocky Balboa and Adrian Pennino from. Rocky thanks to Janet and Dawn for being making our costumes. They tell you to try them out, so Y/N and I head to the bathrooms. I changed quickly and decided to check on Y/N. I opened the door and there she was, her shirt off with just her bra on. “Wally geez turn around” she says as she tries to find something to cover herself up with. “Sorry I… sorry” I mumble as I close the door. I can feel the heat rise to my cheeks. Am I blushing over seeing Y/N with her bra on? She did have amazing breasts- no. I can’t think like that. She is your best friend; I can’t think like that right? Thoughts fly around as she walks out of the bathroom, and we walk back to the girls to show them costumes. As soon as they see them, I ran out of there. I can’t be next to her not now when I just had that thought. After all these years, is my heart telling me something? No, it can’t be. I don’t want to jeopardize our friendship over feelings I don’t know are genuine. I need some time to think, and I know the perfect place we haven’t used in years so I know that will be the last place for her to look giving me some time to sort out my emotions.

I quickly changed and avoided any interaction with anyone and went to our old spot under some bleachers on the football field. I lay down and try to gather my thoughts. She is your friend; she will forgive you for what you did accidently. She will properly laugh it off because. That’s the type of person she is. Funny, caring, kind beautiful, sex- no I can’t finish that thought. Ugh when did things become so complicated. Maybe I do have some feelings for her I don’t know but I can’t tell her, not yet anyways she still trying to come to terms with her death, heck she hasn’t even talked about her death all I know is that she was hit by a car. I have to be there as a friend, she doesn’t need the confusion of my feelings to confuse her.

It wasn’t long until she found me, of course Darling would find me. I swear she knows me better than I know myself. “There you are, I have been looking for you for ages.” She says as she sits beside me. I don’t know what to say. “Come on Wally talk to me. Its ok I don’t care you saw me in my bra it’s not a big deal to me.” she says. “I’m sorry Darling, I freaked out, I thought you would be mad that I walked in on you. I just don’t want anything to change ever between us. You and me against whatever this thing is, keeping us trapped at school I don’t want anything to change because I accidently walked in on you.” I respond still laying on the ground. “Wally, nothing you say or do will never make me not want to me your friend. If I was mad, I wouldn’t have made that joke. It’s ok.” She spoke. I get up off the floor “You really are one in a million friend you know that right?” “Oh, I know I’m the best, you’re lucky to have me.” She sassed me back as you embraced in a hug. “Come on let’s go get something to eat, we may be dead, but we apparently still need to eat, which I still don’t get but whatever.” I can’t tell her; I need to be her friend she doesn’t need the added pressure of my confession.

Before I knew it, it was time for the dance. Already I can hear students in the gym and the best music blaring from the speakers. I quickly change and I don’t even think about waiting for the others because in the first time since death, I wanted to have fun. Mr Martin was already there and walks over. “Great costume Wally, who are you meant to be?” he asked, “Rocky Balboa from Rocky and Y/N is Adrian.” You respond. “Have you and Y/N thought about writing your obituaries? It will really help you with the healing progress.” He said. He really seems eager for us to write them it hasn’t even been a month since we died, and he wants us to talk about our deaths and move on from it when it is all still raw and emotional. “Not yet but I can talk to Y/N about it.” “Excellent, it will help you both heal, like it did for the others. I can get some samples for you to look over.” He said a little to eagerly. Then Y/N walks in with Rhonda, Tommy, Janet, and Dawn but I can’t help but look at her. Wait no stop those thoughts Wally. “Finally, you guys are here. It’s been me and Mr Martin for what feels like ages, and he’s just been staring at me.” I shout to try to talk over the music and the others. Y/N takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor with the others in tow. And other good thing about being dead is that we can eat all the candy we want because our stomachs just reset which is still so weird.

As the night continues Mr Martin announces that he has finished tallying the votes for best costume, which should obviously go to Y/N. she looks so – no. not finishing that thought. “I have finished going over the votes for best costume. The winner gets to pick the movie for the next movie night. And the winner is Wally for dressing as Rocky Balboa.” Mr Martin announces to the group. Oh shit, I won. Excitement fills my body. It was just a silly costume contest, but I won. And for the first time since my death, I felt happy.

Part 9 Part 11

Maddie and Wally's date in School Spirits S2E7 was so adorable and hot?? 👏🥹🔥💖

I’ve made an instagram account that you can follow here 👇

https://www.instagram.com/schoolspiritsfan14?igsh=MXVnNDJ0ZXRiNG5wbA%3D%3D&utm_source=qr

I’ll share story updates, edits and bunch of other stuff idk 😅

Spend time between the holidays

Ryan Baker x Reader

Summary: A holiday sex joke, if your left leg was Thanksgiving and your right leg was Christmas, I wouldn't mind spending time between the holidays.

CW: Death (not you), grief, nakedness (non-sexual), fighting, breeding kink, daddy kink, I'll edit this when I'm awake

Sleeping over at Ryan's house was the norm. The two of you are inseparable even more so since the infamous RightMart massacre the year prior, which shook your town to the core. 2023 started off with a bang, so to speak. Countless town halls, trials, and press interviews Plymouth was forever changed. Halloween came and went, and Thanksgiving was around the corner. Everyone is on edge because the one year anniversary is coming up. A mystery instagram account appeared and was tagging thoses who were in the store during that time. Gaby & Evan were missing and killings have been occurring lately. It looks like a lot of the victims had to do with the RightMart massacre.The waitress who was a bit bitchy from the restaurant that Ryan and you would frequent to your best friend Yulia.

God, that killed you to find out about. You spoke to Yulia that afternoon via facetime and she was telling you about how her and her dad were moving to Florida because he didn't feel it was safe for them to remain here, when the murders were occurring. That was the last time you spoke to her and she promised that she would call when she made it to Florida. Scuba was the one who told you about what happened to her. During that time you pretty much unofficially moved in with Ryan.

He wouldn't dare to leave you alone while you were processing everything that happened. The first few days you didn't speak, eat or leave his bed, days turned into weeks and Ryan was getting worried about you. It was Sunday night & Ryan was holding you in his arms when he gently started the conversation not too sure if he'd get a response from you. “Baby.” He softly spoke. You looked up at him, waiting for what he had to say. “ I know how hard everything has been for you these past two weeks. I will always be here for you, but don't you think it's time for a change in scenery?” He carefully asked with nervous laced in his tone. You didn't say anything, which he was expecting, but he was having a bit of trouble reading your emotions. The two of you sat there for a moment, he just let you ponder in your thoughts. After what felt like eternity to Ryan who was observing you, you gazed into his eyes and nodded your head to his question from earlier. A smile broke out on his face and he pulled you into his chest. He asked “Would you like to take a shower together?” Again you nodded to his question. Together the two of you head off to the shower.

Steam filled the bathroom and water cascaded over the two of you. Ryan washed your hair and then he started the process to wash your body. The moment was very intimate just the two of you in the silent moment, no words need to be spoken just simply washing one's body. Once Ryan was finished, you turned to him and said “Let me return the favor.” Your voice cracked and dry from not speaking for a long time. Ryan was simply over the moon hearing your voice in a long time. “Yeah of course baby.” He said softly. Once you finish in the shower and step out, Ryan instantly wraps you in the fluffiest towel he owns. He sits you on the toilet and walks back into his bedroom to gather clean clothes for the both of you. When he returns, he pretty much dresses you and then starts your night time route. You wanted to protest to let Ryan get himself dressed, but he said that you were more important and didn't leave any room for argument.

Monday came and you returned back to school. It was the week before Thanksgiving break. You could feel pity from teachers and fellow students. Some try to offer sympathy but fortunately for you Ryan, Scuba and Jess would always step in before they could but unfortunately for you that didn't stop the grievance counselor attempts to corner you every chance she could get. Sure it was nice that the school seemed to care, but holy shit she's persistent and a small damper in the week that you returned back to school. It was Friday which was a half day thank fuck. Color started to return back to your face and Ryan couldn't be anymore happier. The final bell rang out signaling that the day is over. As Ryan waited for you by his truck, you and Jess were making your way towards him discussing the party that she was throwing at her dad's house because he felt guilty about what happened and pretty much did whatever his baby girl asked. (It wasn't because he was trying to persuade her that he was a good dad while he was planning on opening RightMart for Black Friday again.) You and Jess go your separate ways and call out “ See you tonight lovely.”

You were getting ready at Ryan's house, music playing from your phone. Ryan came back into the bedroom from the bathroom, towel hung low on his hips. You make your way into the bathroom to do your makeup and hair. He starts to get dressed and his back is visible in the mirror that's in the bathroom. You were watching the way his muscles rippled with each moment he was making. He turns around and the two of you lock eyes with each other through the mirror. Time stopped for a moment while the two of you were holding that contact. “Like what you see, darling.” He said. You roll your eyes and giggle at his cheesnesses. He stalked towards you with his button up hanging around his shoulders and wrapping his arms around your waist caging you in between himself & the vanity. You could feel every part of him pressed up against you. Heat thrumming through your body. Ryan grinds himself into your ass that pressed directly on his hard on. Heavy pants and breathy moans fill the air. “Baby.” You pant out loud. He slows his movement, but not fully stopping and his hands travel up your body giving your breast a firm squeeze. “Baby, we can't.” You whined out. It was then when Ryan stopped, he knew you were right. You couldn't be late to the party & it was your first non-school outing since the passing of your best friend. He places a kiss to your shoulder and a slap on your ass while he exits the bathroom to finish getting dressed.

You arrive at Jess's house, seeing the party in full swing. Hand in hand the two of you make it up to the door and enter the party. Music was fully blasting and you could feel the vibrations in your bones. Making your way through the sea of people in the house and finding the door that leads to the backyard where more people were congregating at. You spot Jess and make your ways towards her. Conversations are flowing and the party is in full swing that even Michael McCarty makes any appearance. Lost in conversation with Jess, you glance over your shoulder trying to find Ryan so you could ask him to get you some water . That's when you spotted the last person who you thought you'd see here tonight, yet alone in Plymouth. Your eyes narrowed watching the person making their way across the yard without a single care in the world. Jess, who was trying to regain your focus, gave up and followed your line of sight to see what had all of your attention. That's when she spots him as well. Her breath hitched. Bobby fucking De Stasi.

Out of all the people you were gobsmacked that he showed his face here. Jess looks like she's about to say something but you beat her to it. “What the hell are you doing here?” Jess shouted at him. Ryan who was nearby heard Jess’s voice and made his way over to where you were. He stood next to you and was a bit confused on what was going on until he noticed who ever one was looking at. He scoffed loudly and he reached for your hand and entwined your fingers together. Again Jess repeated the question at Bobby who was just standing there. Bobby finally spoke up “ I'm back to help out with my uncle at his auto shop.” Jess scoffed at his answer and continued on “ I meant was what are you doing at this party?” Bobby looked around and noticed that an audience was forming. “Can we go talk in private, Jess?” He asked. A scoff left your lips and replied “Anything that you have to say to Jess, you can say it in front of us.”

Bobby looked in your direction and noticed Ryan Baker standing next to you which for some reason caused Bobby to laugh. Ryan was ready to fight him, but you held up your hand signaling to him not too. “Well?” Jess asked. “I wanted to talk and explain things to you and see if we could try again.” He mumbled out. “Are you serious?” Both you and Jess say at the same time. “You seriously think I'd want you back after you ghosted me for an entire year with no contact!” She shouted. Jess turned around and headed back into the house, Bobby tried to follow but Ryan stood in front of him to block him doing so. “Move it Baker.” Bobby firmly spoke. “Not a chance in hell.” Ryan said. In a blink of an eye a fight between them breaks out. Fists repeatedly landing blows between them. It wasn't until Michael and Scuba broke up the fight between them. “Get the hell out of here Bobby!” Ryan yelled.

Adrenaline was running through Ryan's bloodstream and he needed to release this energy. He grabbed your hand and dragged you back into the house and looked for an empty bedroom. Once he found one he pulled you inside and the door shut he immediately walked you over to the bed and pushed you down on the mattress. He hovered above you and began to place kisses all over your face. His hands are exploring and squeezing your body. His fingers slid under the hem of your dress and slowly started to lift over your head and he removed his clothes as well. He began kissing down your neck and sucking bite marks into your neck. His lips traveled further down your body and made it to your breast. His lips enveloped one of your nippple in his mouth and he began sucking and biting it while his other hand messaged your boob and pinched your nipple. Once he thought that side was good he switched to the other one giving it the same treatment. Afterwards his lips trailed down your sternum and down your stomach. Right to the waistband of your panties. He places gentle kisses across your hip bones. His teeth grabbed the waistband and he began to pull your panties down.

When they were removed he spread your legs apart and started kissing your ankle up to your inner thigh leaving bite marks in its wake. One he reached your cunt he placed a kiss on your mound and then moved down in front of your entrance. He ran his tongue up your folds and kissed your clit. He repeated motion for a bit then on his way back down, he decided to interest his tongue inside your pussy and began fucking yourself on his tongue. He ate you out like a man on a mission to make you cum. He kept changes between fucking you with his tongue to focusing it on your clit. Your legs were beginning to shake which Ryan knew was a tell tale sign that you were about to cum. So he began to pick up his pace to get you to fall over the edge. He began humming into it and that sent jolts up your body. After one particular harsh suck on your clit, you came hard and boy did he love that.

After you came down from your high, Ryan flipped you over on all fours and ran the tip of his cock through your folds. He pushed himself into you until he was fully sheathed . He didn't move and you started begging, “Please move , daddy.” That caused him to stutter and let out a whine. He began to move which caused the both of you to let out long, loud, echoing moans, ecstasy hitting you both. His hips moving at a steady pace in and out, his tip gently tapping against your g-spot. He began to pick up the pace and his cock head repeatedly hit against your g-spot. Your brain was turning into mush and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head. Your walls began to start clenching down on him which is another tell that you are too cumming. Ryan added his finger on your clit and started rubbing it in tight fast circles, helping in making you fall over the edge. Hips moving faster, you started throwing it back on him and he pulled your hair hard and one really harsh thrust brought you over the edge and you came hard. His name falling from your lips in broken moans and tears running down your face. He kept going to chase his high and was overstimulating you. He was getting closer and he pushed your head down on the mattress holding it down and he bent over your back whispering pure filth in your ear. “What if I got you pregnant?” He said. “What if I breed you, huh what then?” He groaned huskily in your ear and you began to cry. “Yeah you like that baby. Me fucking you you full of my cum and giving you a baby ?” Your walls clamped down on him and he flew over the edge cumming so fucking hard and so much. He pretty much collapsed on your back.

The two of you stay like that for a little while letting your high burn out and you return back to earth from that mind blowing sex. Once you both came back down, he removed himself from your back and pulled out of you. A hiss leaves your lips, “I know baby, I know.” Ryan teases. He collapsed right next to you on the bed and he pulled you in his arms. Holding you so close to you and rubbing his hands all over your body in tender love. After a beat or two, he hooks his finger under your chin and tilts your head upwards. You both gaze into each other's eyes and you both can see the love you have for each other swimming in your eyes. “I love you.” He says his voice hoarse and places a kiss on your lips. “ I love you too.” You said against his lips and leaned in to kiss him again. He lays back down and you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes flick around the room until they land on a picture on the dresser and you gasp. Ryan was confused and asked “What's wrong, love ?” You turned to him and said “I think we just had sex in Jess's dad's bed?” He was frozen for a moment then the two of you burst out laughing and fell asleep.

It's definitely the most wonderful time of the year.

I love them my honour 🙏 Anyways I'm so down for this 'people who don't like eachother become really close because they get tangled in a messy situation' trope 😭

(the cast reposted it and I was crying happy tears, they're so cool)