Will Forever Be An Iconic Moment In The Show

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

wally clark who keeps an extra hoodie in his locker for you, knowing you’ll steal it at some point later in the day.

wally clark who heard what flavor of chapstick you like and started wearing it so you tasted it every time you kissed him.

wally clark who runs to you after games and scoops you into his arms, pampering you with kisses and refusing to let you go.

wally clark who brags to all his buddies about you, saying “you wish you had someone as awesome as them”.

wally clark who shows you off every chance he gets, having you perched on his lap like a precious gem, lazy kisses to your shoulder while you talk.

wally clark who always has to have his hand on one part of your body. your hand, thigh, back, shoulder.

wally clark who buys you a necklace with his initial on it, always staring at it when you’re with him, adorning how the little “W” say so perfectly on your collarbones.

wally clark who’s always searching for you in the hallways between classes, inevitably meeting you and your locker and greeting you with a kiss while mumbling how he missed you.

You Belong with Me 💙🏈📖

Wally Clark x fem reader Y/N slow burn story

Part 24:

A/N this part will feature plot points from the season 2 finale, so obvious spoiler warning Summary: Quinn reveals she went into her scar and found something that Janet kept hidden. And the living kids convince Janet back to the school where she fills you in on her theory and how Mr Martin became obsessed trying to prove it right.

You, Wally, and Maddie enter the library to find Charley and Yuri chatting. “Where are the others?” Maddie asks as she takes a seat opposite of Charley. “Quinn wanted to go into her scar, so Rhonda and Tommy went with her.” Charley responded closing a book and placing it on the table in front of him.  “Did you get into his scar Mads?” Yuri questioned. “Yeah. I saw fire around the chemistry lab and awards all for Janet. We think he started the fire and is haunted by Janet because he stole away her future.” Maddie answers. Just then Tommy, Quinn, and Rhonda burst through the library. “Well, they were defiantly using us as experiments for their own benefit. Quinn found a page in her scar and in Janet’s handwriting it says, ‘trauma is energy’.” Rhonda snaps throwing the page on the table and sits down in a huff. “We think they wanted to trap us in our scars for God knows how long so they can cross over or break the barrier for them to be free while we get trapped in our own personal hells for ever.” Tommy adds also furious with the discovery. “What the fuck?” Wally yells. “Wait but why would Janet take over Maddie’s body, if that was the plan this whole time?” You ask. All of a sudden you hear over the P.A system “Maddie and other ghosts, please come to the cafeteria.” Simon says. 

Without wasting any time, you all head to the cafeteria where you see Simon, Lily, and Maddie’s body-Janet-. “Holy shit, this is weird.” Rhonda says looking over at Maddie and Janet who is in Maddie’s body. You all sit down facing her while Simon and Lily stand off to the side. Maddie gets the paper out from her pocket and slides it over the table towards her. “I think you have some explaining to do.” 

She takes a deep sigh and says “It was never meant to turn out this way and for that I’m truly sorry. For five years it was just Mr Martin and I trying to figure out why we were trapped here. Years and years of trying to come up with an answer, we had nothing. Then you died Rhonda” looking over to Rhonda “When you died, you were so frightened. We wanted to welcome you, help you but we had no idea how. Mr Martin told you that we died separately to protect me-“ “Protect you from what?” you interrupted. “Because I caused the fire that killed us. While trying to help you, Rhonda we were also trying to figure out why there was this force that kept us on school property. We came up with nothing. And then more students kept dying so we got distracted trying to help. We didn’t actually work on a theory until...” she trails off not wanting to finish. “Spit it out liar.” Rhonda snarled at her. 

“Until Wally and Y/N died. We knew they had this bond with each other, and we wanted to find a way for us to all finally cross over, but we still had nothing. It wasn’t until many years later we discovered the red light coming from the fallout shelter, where the school built it after the science lab was destroyed. I came up with a theory if we were to stay in our scars for long periods of time it would be enough to break the barrier so we would all be free. When I told Mr Martin that trauma equals energy, he was very eager to start trying it. I told him it was only a theory, but he wanted to test it right away. He wanted you all to go into your scars even though I wasn’t sure my theory was right. So, I volunteered to go in myself, and he would take notes if anything changed. Knowing it was only me facing that trauma saved you guys from reliving your own trauma over and over again, I couldn’t do that So I told Mr Martin to tell you that I crossed over so we could work on it in secret” She lets out a sigh and continues “Mr Martin eventually notice when I was in my scar, that the janitor could see him, and he became more determined than ever. he kept forcing me into the scar over and over for months on end. I had to get out of there it was torture. That was until Maddie heard me crying for help and she opened the door, and that’s when I ran, not knowing I was going into her body, I didn’t know that could happen it just did.”

You all sit in silence trying to wrap your head around what Janet had just admitted, this whole time it was really Mr Martin who was the bad guy, wanting to use us, make us relieve our traumas for a theory that may or may not work. Did he even care about us? You wondered. “So, was anything real for you Janet? I thought you and I were friends. I told you personal shit, did you just go ahead and tell him and write about it in your little journals.” You yell pacing around the room as Wally gets up to comfort you. “Of course, we are friend’s Y/N that was real. I never told him or anyone what you told me. I’m glad you two are finally together.” She says noticing Wally’s hand firm on your waist. “Thanks, and I’m sorry you went through all of that to protect us, that can’t have been an easy choice.” You reply. 

“That piece of shit Mr Martin didn’t even care for us, he wanted us to be in our hells for a theory?” Tommy snaps and leaves the room, Charley and Yuri follow to try to calm him down. “So, what happens now?” Wally says. “Mr Martin needs to come back to school, give your teacher his body back and I can give Maddie hers back.” Janet says. Maddie turns to Lily and Simon who have been standing there the whole time, Simon translating what he can to Lily who can only see Janet. “Where is Mr Martin now?” Maddie asks. “Uh…” Simon stutters not knowing how to tell her. “Simon tell me what she said.” Lily says as she nudges his arm. “She wants to know where Mr Martin is. I don’t know how to tell her “He replies in a whisper. “Fine, I’ll do it. Mr Marin eventually found out where we were and was going to take Janet with him and we couldn’t let that happen. And it all happened so fast but in short, he told Nicole’s brothers car-who found out where we were- and Mr Martin stole his car. We don’t know where he went.” Lily says. “He what?” you all say in unison even though she can’t hear you. “He will come for me; he will know that I’m here.” Janet says. Maddie repeats back to Simon who tells Lily. You all leave the cafeteria still reeling from everything you heard. 

Part 23 Part 25

TAGLIST: if you would like to be added to he taglist let me know and I will happily add you.

@yourfavoritefangirl @unholypsychic @lyinginthegingerlocks @manulamadrugada @arsonfish @abstractpenny @lifeiscomposedofnows-blog @97buttons @rosietoesy

Me every time I look at Milo Manheim

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.____________

also on AO3!

Order Up! MASTERLIST

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.

Milo Manheim

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."

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: School Spirits (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Wally Clark/Maddie Nears Characters: Maddie Nears, Wally Clark, Charley (School Spirits), Rhonda (School Spirits), Quinn (School Spirits), Yuri (School Spirits), Janet Hamilton, Mr. Martin (School Spirits), Simon Elroy, Nicole Herrera, Xavier Baxter, Claire (School Spirits) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Drama & Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Romance, Soulmates

Summary: Maddie Nears has returned to her own body, and to her own life, leaving Wally Clark heartbroken.

It’s the end of a love story, or is it?

Life after death is real, after all, and as Maddie and Wally are about to learn, love might just be enough to achieve the impossible.

~~~~

Yes! This is a fic I’ve begun to write since my original post messing around with the idea went down so well~

Tagging anyone I can who liked that post under the cut (feel free to ignore).

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And that’s the closest I’ll ever get to this show 😭

Milo Manheim and Elizabeth Gillies singing Suddenly Seymour in the Off-Broadway production of Little Shop of Horrors (2025)