The Truth – Wally’s POV

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The ones we loved

Wally Clark x fem!reader

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

warnings: death, loss of a loved one, grief

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

Y/n's POV

Star-crossed lovers Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

Then came the landing.

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

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

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

I wasn’t fine at all.

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

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

And then, I thought about her.

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

But the image faded, swallowed by darkness.

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

Then, silence.

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

And then, the storage room.

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

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

And God, how I wished I could answer her.

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

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

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

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

Aftershock – Wally’s POV

Drabble Flashback Pt.21

Wally Cark x fem!reader

Star-crossed lovers Masterlist

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The moment I stepped off the field, hand in Y/N’s, the world snapped back into focus.

Coach was fuming.

My teammates were staring, a mix of shock, curiosity, and relief thick in the air.

And I knew—knew the second I hit the locker room, I'd get ripped apart for walking off mid-practice, for letting my personal life explode onto the field.

But right now?

I didn’t care.

Because Y/N was still gripping my hand like she was afraid I’d disappear, her breath still uneven, her fingers cold against my own.

Because my chest still felt tight, my heart still unsteady from the weight of everything.

Because even though I wanted to be angry—

I had missed her too much.

We didn’t say anything as we crossed the field, barely hearing the way Coach’s yelling turned into distant background noise.

It wasn’t until we hit the bleachers—until we were tucked in the shadow of the empty stands, away from the eyes of the team—that I stopped.

Turned to her.

Let go of her hand.

She looked up at me, eyes searching, like she was bracing for whatever came next.

For a long moment, I just stared.

At the girl who had wrecked me.

At the girl who still made my heart trip over itself.

At the girl who had just put herself directly in the line of fire because she couldn’t take it anymore.

My girl

I exhaled sharply. “You can’t do stuff like that, Y/N.”

Her breath caught. “I know.”

“You walked onto the field—” my voice wavered, the panic from earlier still gripping my ribs. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened if they had snapped the ball? If someone hit you?”

Her face crumpled. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you weren’t,” I snapped, then immediately cursed under my breath, scrubbing a hand down my face. “Jesus.”

Her shoulders curled in slightly, like she was preparing for me to tell her to leave.

And maybe a part of me thought I should.

But the other part—the part that had spent every day aching for her, that had spent every night staring at my ceiling, missing her—

That part couldn’t let her go.

“Say it again,” I muttered.

She blinked. “What?”

My voice was hoarse. “That you were wrong.”

Her eyes softened, even as fresh guilt flickered in them.

“I was wrong,” she whispered.

I let out a slow, unsteady breath, nodding once.

Then—

Before I could second-guess myself—

I reached for her again.

This time, I cupped her face, brushing my thumbs gently over her cheekbones, grounding myself in the warmth of her skin.

Her breath stuttered.

“I wanted to hate you,” I admitted quietly. “After that night, I tried to hate you.”

Her fingers curled around my wrists, holding on like she was afraid I’d slip away.

“But I couldn’t,” my said, voice raw. “I still can’t.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Wally—”

I shook my head. “I’m not saying it’s fixed. I’m not saying we can just go back to how it was.”

She nodded, swallowing hard. “I know.”

“But I can’t pretend I don’t love you.”

A choked sound escaped her, like she was barely holding it together.

Like she wanted to say it back but didn’t know if she deserved to.

So I gave her a way out.

A test.

“Come to the diner with me,” I murmured.

Her brows furrowed. “What?”

“Tonight,” I clarified. “Come with me. Talk to me.”

She exhaled shakily. “And if I do?”

My fingers tightened slightly on her face, my stomach twisting as I searched her gaze.

“Then maybe we start over.”

She stared at me, lips parted, eyes wide.

Then—slowly, carefully—she nodded.

And for the first time since it all fell apart, I felt like maybe, just maybe—

We had a chance.

First "Date"

Drabble Flashback Pt.9

Wally Cark x fem!reader

Takes place at the beginning of sophomore year

Star-crossed lovers Masterlist

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Technically, this wasn’t a date.

At least, that’s what Y/N kept telling herself.

She and Wally had been hanging out all summer. They’d grabbed burgers a dozen times before, had ice cream after football practice, gone to the arcade and the lake and the drive-in.

But somehow, this felt different.

Maybe it was because he had asked this time. Not in an offhand, casual, hey, wanna go grab food? way, but with an actual, deliberate—

“Hey, do you wanna get dinner with me?”

And maybe it was because of the way he’d said it. How he’d looked a little nervous, how he had waited for her answer like it mattered more than usual.

So now, she was sitting across from him in a tiny diner just outside of town, stirring her milkshake and pretending she wasn’t overthinking every second of this.

“This place has the best fries,” Wally said, waving one in the air before eating it. “Like, actually the best.”

Y/N smirked. “Bold claim.”

“You doubt me?”

“I just think it’s very hard to beat the bowling alley fries.”

“Bowling alley fries?” He looked personally offended. “Those are a disgrace.”

She gasped, clutching her chest in mock horror. “How dare you?”

“I speak the truth.”

“I can’t believe I’m friends with you.”

“You love being friends with me.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

The conversation drifted from there—favorite horror movies, the weirdest teachers at school, the time Wally nearly got suspended for sneaking into the principal’s office to steal back a confiscated Walkman.

And it was easy. The way it always was with him.

Except every once in a while, she’d catch him looking at her. Not in the teasing, Wally Clark way, but softer. A little hesitant. Like he was figuring something out.

And it made her stomach flip.

At some point, he reached across the table and stole a fry off her plate.

“Rude,” she said, swatting his hand.

“Sharing is caring.” He grinned, chewing happily.

She shook her head. “Unbelievable.”

They stayed until the diner was nearly empty, the neon sign flickering outside. When they finally stepped into the warm summer night, Wally walked her to his car, shoving his hands in his pockets.

He hesitated.

Then—

“This was nice,” he said.

She nodded, heart pounding a little too hard. “Yeah. It was.”

He glanced at her, like he wanted to say something else.

But then he just grinned, nudging her shoulder. “Told you about the fries.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Fine. Maybe they were better.”

He beamed, like that was the best possible answer.

And when he dropped her off that night, she realized she kind of wanted him to ask her to dinner again.

hi there ! could i request a wally drabble where they’ve known each other since they were little and one night when they’re studying together they do things? it can be nsfw, with wally having experience from a fling of his (that got y/n jealous in the past) and uhhh. yeah. thank you!

Hey!!! Thanks for requesting this! I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy!!! ♡ My requests are always open! PLEASE 🙏 😭 I'm begging, if you have a request please send it!

Study Night Confessions

Wally Clark x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,719

NSFW!

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The evening was cool and quiet, a gentle breeze whispering through the leaves outside. Inside the small, cluttered room, books and papers lay scattered across the table, a silent testament to the hours Wally and Y/N had spent together. They had known each other since they were knee-high to a grasshopper, growing up in the same town, attending the same school, sharing the same dreams. They had always been close, but there was something different tonight, a charge in the air that neither could ignore.

Wally glanced up from his book, his eyes meeting hers. She sat across from him, chewing on the end of her pen, lost in thought. Her hair, usually a wild mess, was pulled back into a loose ponytail, revealing the faint freckles that danced across her nose and cheeks. The lamp cast a warm, golden light, making her look like she belonged on the pages of one of their favorite childhood stories. He took a deep breath, feeling his heart race in his chest. He had to tell her.

They had been studying for hours, the silence only broken by the occasional rustle of paper or the tick of the clock on the wall. The room was filled with the comforting scent of old books and the faint aroma of the coffee they had brewed earlier. Wally had always found something soothing about the way Y/N's mind worked, the way she could dissect a problem and solve it without breaking a sweat. But tonight, as he watched her, he found himself thinking about things that had nothing to do with homework.

The tension grew, a palpable force that made the air thick with unspoken words. Wally's hand hovered over his notes, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He had heard whispers about his past, about a summer fling that had left him with a bit more experience than she had. It was something she didn't know, something he had never wanted to bring between them. But he couldn't help feeling like it was eating away at him, like a secret he had to share before it consumed him entirely.

Finally, he found the courage to speak. "Y/N," he began, his voice low and hesitant. She looked up, her eyes wide with curiosity. He took a moment, gathering his thoughts, trying to find the right words. "There's something I need to tell you."

Her eyes searched his, looking for a clue, a hint of what was to come. The room seemed to shrink around them, the only sound the thundering of their hearts. Wally knew this was it, the moment that would change everything. He took another deep breath and continued, "I've liked you for a really long time." The words hung in the air, heavy and significant.

Y/N blinked, surprised. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice a soft tremble.

Wally swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving hers. "I mean, I'm in love with you."

The confession hung between them like a delicate thread, vibrating with the weight of its meaning. Y/N's hand stilled on the paper, the pen hovering in mid-air. She looked at him, really looked at him, for what felt like the first time in forever. And then, she set the pen down, her eyes filling with a warmth that made Wally's heart soar.

"Wally," she whispered, "I think I love you too."

The world stopped spinning for a moment, frozen in the wake of her words. And then, as if released from an invisible cage, Wally felt his heart race even faster. He pushed his chair back and moved towards her, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. She leaned into his touch, her eyes searching his, looking for reassurance.

He knew then that this was it, the moment he had dreamed of for so long. He leaned in, their faces so close that he could feel her breath on his skin. And then, as if pulled by an invisible force, their lips met. The kiss was soft, tentative, filled with the promise of so much more.

The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, as the years of friendship melded into something new. They broke apart, gasping for air, their eyes locked. Wally could feel the heat rising in him, a fire that had been smoldering for far too long. He knew that tonight was the night, the night where everything would change.

And as they moved closer, their bodies brushing against each other, the tension that had been simmering for so long finally snapped. Wally's arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a tight embrace, their kiss deepening with each passing moment. His hands slid down to the small of her back, pressing her closer, as if trying to meld their very souls together.

Y/N's hands found their way to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath his shirt. She knew that this was real, that the feelings she had been burying for so long were finally coming to the surface. The thought of it terrified her and exhilarated her all at once.

They stumbled backward, the chair scraping against the floor, until they were standing in the center of the room. Wally's hands moved to her face, cupping her cheeks gently, his thumbs tracing the line of her jaw. He kissed her again, this time with a passion that left her breathless, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her.

Her eyes searched his, questioning, and he nodded, confirming the unspoken question in her gaze. He took her hand and led her to his bed, their hearts racing in unison. The softness of the comforter was a stark contrast to the fire that burned within them. He laid her down, his eyes never leaving hers, and began to undo the buttons of her blouse.

With trembling fingers, he revealed her soft, bare skin, the sight of it making his breath catch in his throat. He leaned down to kiss her neck, feeling her shiver beneath his touch. His experience from the past whispered to him, guiding his actions, but it was the raw emotion in her eyes that truly directed him.

He pulled away, just enough to remove his own shirt. The sight of his bare chest made Y/N's heart skip a beat. The moonlight danced across his skin, casting shadows that highlighted the contours of his muscles. He was beautiful, she thought, and she felt a surge of desire so intense it was almost overwhelming.

Wally's eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of hesitation. But all he saw was want, a mirror to his own feelings. He leaned down again, his lips finding hers, their kisses growing more frantic, more desperate as they shed their clothes.

The coolness of the room washed over their bare skin, sending shivers down their spines. His hands explored her body, learning every curve and plane as if he had never seen her before. Y/N's breath hitched as his tongue brushed over her nipple, a jolt of pleasure shooting straight to her core. She arched into his touch, her hands roaming over his back, feeling the tension in his muscles.

Their bodies intertwined, a tapestry of limbs and sighs. Wally took his time, savoring every moment, every sensation. He knew he had more experience than her, but it was her reactions, her unbridled passion, that guided him. He kissed his way down her body, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.

He reached the edge of her panties and paused, his eyes meeting hers. She nodded, her cheeks flushed, her breath shallow. He slipped them off, revealing the soft, damp heat of her sex. He took a moment to admire her, the way she was laid bare before him, offering herself completely.

Wally's hand slid down, his fingers teasing her folds. He felt her tense, her muscles tightening around him, and he knew she was ready. He slid a finger inside her, watching her eyes widen, her back arch. She was wet, so wet for him, and he couldn't wait any longer.

He positioned himself at her entrance, his heart hammering in his chest. He pushed in slowly, giving her time to adjust to his size, feeling her warmth envelop him. Her nails dug into his back, a silent plea for more, and he obliged, moving in and out with a steady rhythm.

Their breaths mingled, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. Y/N's legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him deeper. He kissed her again, his tongue mimicking the movements of his hips. She moaned into his mouth, her body tightening around him as she approached her peak.

Wally felt the pressure building, the familiar tightness in his gut that signaled his climax was near. But he held back, focusing on her, on the way she felt, on the noises she made. He wanted to make her come first, wanted to show her that this was more than just sex, that it was a declaration of love and commitment.

Her breath grew ragged, her hips bucking against his, seeking release. He reached between them, his thumb finding her clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles. Her eyes rolled back, a keening sound escaping her lips as she came apart, her body shuddering with pleasure.

And then it was his turn, the dam breaking as he let go, his orgasm crashing over him like a wave. He buried his face in her neck, his breath hot against her skin, as he emptied himself into her. They lay there, panting, their hearts beating in time with each other's, their bodies still connected.

The room was silent, save for the sound of their breathing and the rustling of the curtains in the breeze. Wally pulled out, his arms still shaking from the intensity of their love-making. He rolled onto his side, pulling her into his embrace.

They lay there, skin to skin, hearts racing, the tension of years of unspoken feelings finally dissipating into the night air. The world outside had continued to turn, but in that moment, all that mattered was the two of them, entwined in the warm cocoon of Wally's bed, finally admitting what they had both known for so long.

Wally Clark NSFW! alphabet

Requested by the lovely @notheoneuneed

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

F - Favorite position (this goes without saying)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

J - Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

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

K - Kink (one or more of their kinks)

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

L - Location (favorite places to do the do)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

U - Unfair (how much they like to tease)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Z - Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

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

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Doubt – Y/N’s POV

Drabble Flashback Pt.18

Wally Cark x fem!reader

Star-crossed lovers Masterlist

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It had been three days.

Three days since I ended it.

Three days since I watched Wally’s face fall, since I turned my back and closed the door, since I walked away.

So why did it still feel like I couldn’t breathe?

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the quiet of my room pressing in around me. Everything felt off.

The world kept moving—people went to class, the football team practiced, the cheerleaders rehearsed their routines—but I felt like I was stuck.

Like I was waiting for something.

Something that wasn’t coming.

My chest tightened. No. You did the right thing.

Didn’t I?

I had seen him. Seen him outside the diner with that girl, his hands on her shoulders, her leaning into him, looking up at him like he was the only person in the world.

It looked bad. It felt awful.

But the way Wally had looked at me when I confronted him—

Like he was devastated. Like he was shattered.

Like he was telling the truth.

My stomach twisted, memories of his words circling in my head.

"Y/N, you know me. You know I would never do that to you."

But I hadn’t known. At least, not enough to stay.

I pressed the heels of my palms against my eyes, trying to push back the lump rising in my throat.

Was I wrong?

I didn’t want to be. If I was wrong, that meant I had just—

I had just destroyed us for nothing.

A sudden knock at my window made me flinch.

My heart lurched as I turned, half-expecting—hoping—to see Wally standing outside like he had so many nights before.

But it was just the wind.

I let out a shaky breath, pressing a hand to my chest.

He wasn’t coming.

Not this time.

Because I was the one who left.

And maybe—just maybe—I was the one who needed to fix it.

The Fall – Y/N’s POV

Wally Cark x fem!reader

Star-crossed lovers Masterlist

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The days blurred together.

Since Wally’s death, it felt like time had become something cruel—stretching endlessly while slipping through my fingers all at once. Every morning was the same: waking up exhausted, dragging myself to school, forcing myself through classes like a ghost haunting the halls, and retreating to my storage room the moment I could.

But even that wasn’t helping anymore.

I'd started spending more time there than anywhere else, curled up against the cold walls, pressing Wally’s old jacket against my face just to remember what he smelled like. Some days, I swore I could still hear his laugh in the empty hallways, a phantom echo of something I could never get back.

And now, months later, I was just tired.

I didn’t know why I'd come to practice today. Maybe because Claire kept asking me, maybe because I thought if I just moved for a while, I'd feel something again.

It was the same routine, the same cheers, the same stifling weight pressing down on my chest. I went through the motions, clapping when I was supposed to, calling out counts, but my heart wasn’t in it. Nothing was.

“Alright, last pyramid before we break,” Claire called, clapping her hands. “Let’s make it solid, people.”

I barely heard her.

I moved into position, forcing myself to focus as the girls around me adjusted. The base cheerleaders braced themselves, and I watched as the flyer—a petite sophomore—climbed up, her arms steady, her balance sure.

Just like it had been a hundred times before.

Just like it always was.

Then, something went wrong.

Maybe someone lost their footing, maybe the timing was off—I would never really know. But in an instant, the flyer wobbled at the top of the stunt, her arms pinwheeling, her body tilting at the wrong angle—

And then she fell.

I didn’t have time to react, barely even had time to think.

One second, I was standing there, blinking up at the girl—

The next, everything went black.

---

When I opened my eyes, I was lying on the gym floor.

At first, everything was hazy. The fluorescent lights above flickered strangely, like they weren’t quite real, and the air felt colder than it had any right to be.

Then I noticed the people standing around me.

My breath caught in my throat.

Two people I didn't recognize, a teacher and a student.

And one person I did. Wally.

My heart stopped, and suddenly, I was awake.

I scrambled up, sitting bolt upright, my breath coming in fast, shallow gasps.

Wally knelt beside me, his face unreadable, but his eyes—God, his eyes.

“Hey, it's okay. It's okay, baby,” he said softly.

The sound of his voice—his actual voice—sent a tremor through me.

My hands shook as I looked at him, at the boy I had spent months grieving, at the boy I had lost.

My boy

“…Wally?”

His throat bobbed, but he nodded. “Yeah. I’m here.”

Tears burned at the edges of my vision. “But—” I looked around wildly, my head spinning. “But I—I was at practice. The flyer—she fell, and then—”

I stopped.

My stomach dropped.

Wally didn’t say anything.

Neither did the other two people.

The others exchanged a look, but Wally was the one who spoke. “Baby, breathe.”

My breath caught in my throat.

It took me a second to remember—cheer practice, the last pyramid, the flyer losing balance—

And then the fall.

I swallowed hard. “But I—I was just there. I should be—” I looked at Wally again, my voice almost pleading. “I should be fine.”

His throat bobbed. “I know.”

The weight of it settled in my chest.

I wasn’t.

I was here.

Just like him.

Just like them.

A sharp breath left my lungs, and I shook my head again, running my hands over my arms like that would somehow make this real. “This doesn’t make sense. This can’t be happening.”

Wally took a step forward, slow, careful. “I know it’s a lot.”

“A lot?” A broken laugh left my lips. “I—” I swallowed, pressing a hand to my forehead. “I don’t know what to do.”

Wally hesitated for half a second before reaching out, his fingers brushing mine. When I didn’t pull away, he took my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

I let out a slow, unsteady breath, staring down at where his hand covered mine. His touch was warm, familiar, grounding.

It didn’t fix anything.

But it helped.

“I was just starting to feel… normal again,” I admitted quietly. “Or at least something close to it.” I swallowed hard. “And now—” His thumb gently rubbed away a tear from my cheek.

“You don’t have to go through this alone.”

I looked up at him.

His gaze was steady, reassuring. Real.

For months, I had spent every day aching for just a second more with him, just a moment where he was still here, where he hadn’t been ripped away from me.

And now, somehow, impossibly—he was.

Not in the way I wanted.

Not in the way I would’ve chosen.

But still.

I squeezed his hand, exhaling shakily. “…Okay.”

A small, knowing smile crossed his lips. “Okay.”

For the first time since I woke up, I felt like maybe—just maybe—I wouldn’t have to figure this out alone.

Homecoming 81'

Drabble Flashback Pt.12

Wally Cark x fem!reader

Star-crossed lovers Masterlist

~ ☆ ♡ ° ~ ☆ ♡ ° ~ ☆ ♡ ° ~ ☆ ♡ ° ~

Wally Clark had faced a lot of nerve-wracking moments in his life—big football games, pop quizzes he definitely hadn’t studied for, that one time he wiped out in front of the entire cafeteria.

But this?

This was worse.

Because this was Y/N.

And he was about to ask her to Homecoming.

The thing was, they’d been circling each other for months. Hanging out, talking on the phone late into the night, getting just close enough that people started assuming they were together.

But they weren’t.

Not yet.

And Wally was done waiting around.

So here he was, pacing in the empty hallway outside her last class, trying not to psych himself out before she came through that door.

“Dude, just ask her.”

Wally spun around to see one of his teammates, Scott, leaning against the lockers, looking way too amused.

“I am,” Wally hissed.

“Are you? ‘Cause it kinda looks like you’re trying to figure out how to fake your own death instead.”

Wally scowled. “Shut up.”

Scott held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, just saying. Everyone knows she likes you.”

His stomach did a weird flip. “You don’t know that.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Whatever, man. Good luck.”

Before Wally could respond, the classroom door swung open, and students spilled out into the hallway.

And then—there she was.

Y/N, looking effortlessly cool in that way she always did, her bag slung over one shoulder, flipping through her notebook with a small furrow in her brow.

His heart slammed against his ribs.

He took a deep breath, stepped forward, and—

“Oh,” she said, looking up. “Hey, Wally.”

Say words.

Any words.

“You like dances, right?” he blurted.

She blinked. “Uh. I guess?”

“Cool,” he said. “Cool, cool, cool.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

No. Absolutely not.

But he cleared his throat and forced himself to get it together.

“So, uh… Homecoming is next week.”

She nodded slowly. “I’m aware.”

“And, uh…” He scratched the back of his neck. “I was thinking maybe you’d wanna go. With me. As, y’know, more than just two people who happen to be in the same place at the same time.”

She tilted her head. “Are you asking me as a date?”

“...Yes?”

Her lips twitched. “That sounded very confident.”

“I am confident,” he shot back, folding his arms. “Super confident.”

Y/N hummed, pretending to think it over.

Wally felt like he was dying.

Then, finally, she grinned. “Yeah, Clark. I’ll go to Homecoming with you.”

The relief hit him so hard he almost sagged against the lockers. Instead, he kept his cool.

Barely.

“Great,” he said, trying not to sound too excited. “It’s a date.”

“It is,” she agreed, still smirking. “Now, let’s see if you survive actually dancing.”

He groaned. “I knew you were gonna bring that up.”

She laughed, linking her arm through his as they started walking.

And Wally couldn’t stop grinning the whole way down the hall.

Because finally—finally—this was happening.

And Homecoming?

That was just the beginning.

Seeing Milo Manheim's BUTT was NOT on my 2025 birthday bingo card! But thank you, paramount!!!

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Also, please check out my request list. My requests are open, but dry like the desert!!! Lots of love!! 😘

Collision Course – Wally’s POV

Drabble Flashback Pt.20

Wally Cark x fem!reader

Star-crossed lovers Masterlist

~ ☆ ♡ ° ~ ☆ ♡ ° ~ ☆ ♡ ° ~ ☆ ♡ ° ~

The second I crouched into position, ready for the snap, the world around me blurred into focus.

Tunnel vision.

The defensive line shifted, muscles coiled, waiting for the play to explode.

Then—

Gasps. Shouts.

A figure stepping directly in front of me.

The ball never snapped.

My entire body locked up as my brain scrambled to process what I was seeing.

Y/N.

Standing right in front of me, on the damn field, looking up at me with wide, desperate eyes.

The weight of the moment crashed down, wiping out every single thought except—

What the hell is she doing?

“Clark!” Coach’s furious bellow barely registered.

The other players stood frozen, stunned into silence.

I barely heard them.

My breath was caught somewhere between panic and disbelief.

Because Y/N wasn’t moving.

Wasn’t speaking.

She was just standing there, staring at me, her chest rising and falling like she had run all the way here.

I yanked off my helmet, heart hammering. “Y/N, what the hell—”

“I was wrong.”

Her voice was shaky, barely above a whisper.

But it was enough.

Enough to send my stomach twisting, enough to make my entire body go rigid.

Because I had waited to hear those words.

Had prayed—begged—for her to come back, to tell me that she knew I didn’t do it.

But she never did.

And now, when I was finally starting to push through the wreckage—she was here.

On the field.

Stopping everything.

The team was staring.

The coaches were yelling.

But all I could see was her.

My jaw clenched. “You can’t be here.”

She flinched but didn’t move. “I had to.”

My grip on my helmet tightened. “Why? So you could tell me now? After you left me standing in the street, begging you to listen?”

Pain flashed in her eyes, her breath hitching. “I should’ve listened.”

I exhaled sharply, shoving a hand through my hair. My body was still wired from practice, still thrumming with too much emotion.

“You broke me, Y/N.” The words came out low, rough. “Do you get that?”

Her bottom lip trembled. “I do.”

No hesitation.

No excuse.

Just that raw, unfiltered regret.

It nearly killed me.

Because as much as I wanted to hold onto my anger—

As much as I wanted to tell her she didn’t get to do this—

I still loved her.

I didn’t know if I could stop.

My teammates shifted uncomfortably, waiting for something to happen.

Coach was still shouting, but it was just noise now.

I swallowed hard. “Why now?”

She inhaled sharply, shoulders straightening like she was trying to hold herself together. “Because I couldn’t stand being without you.”

My breath caught.

“I thought I was protecting myself,” she whispered. “But all I did was ruin the best thing that ever happened to me.”

My heart twisted violently.

She was saying everything I had wanted to hear—everything I had needed to hear.

But after all the pain, after the nights I spent trying to convince myself she wasn’t coming back—

Was it enough?

The air between us crackled.

A silent, desperate question hung there, waiting for me to answer.

Coach’s whistle shrieked.

“Clark, get off my damn field if you’re gonna keep standing there!”

My fingers twitched around my helmet.

I could turn around. Walk away.

Or—

I could let her back in.

I could take the risk.

My chest rose and fell, my heart hammering like a drum.

Then—

I dropped my helmet.

And in one step, I was in front of her.

Her eyes went wide just as I pulled her in.

It wasn’t a kiss. It wasn’t even a word.

It was just me, holding onto her, my face buried against her shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of her shampoo, the warmth of her body against mine.

Y/N broke—I felt it in the way her hands clutched my jersey, the way she shook against me, the way she whispered, “I’m so sorry,” over and over again.

The team went silent.

But I didn’t care.

Because for the first time in days—

I could breathe again.