Milo Manheim 🤍

Milo Manheim

Good Girl.

NSFW! 18+

Author's Note: Hi babes! Hope you enjoy!

Summary: You died a virgin. Let's fix that.

You can’t believe you died a virgin! That was the most devastating part of death. You were horny in life but never got with anyone unless yourself counted (it didn’t).

A few weeks post death the ghosts had decided to throw a little party. You had gotten ready with Rhonda and accidentally told her you died a virgin. Her mouth hung open comically before shaking her head and saying “We are changing that tonight Cherrypop.”

Your cheeks heated as you shook your head no. Rhonda smirked at you asking "Who do you have your eyes on? Yuri? He has that mysterious stoner artsy vibe. Dawn? She has the laid back quirky vibe. Oo I know!" She giggles excitedly. "It's Wally isn't it? The jock golden retriever." She watches as you glance away with a shrug acting uninterested.

"That's adorable. I'll be your wing woman." She smiles as she helps you finish doing your hair. You had managed to find a cute strapless dress to wear over your black band tee and paired it with your fishnets with black combat boots. You were feeling super cute by the time the party was starting.

You let Rhonda lead you to the decked out library where music was playing and lights were flashing. You were pretty sure you were crashing a reunion but it was fun none the less. Everyone else had already arrived. Wally was roaming around watching the living when you walked in.

He had heard Rhonda's giggle before anything. He glanced over and was mesmerized by you. He thought you always looked cute but tonight you looked down right delectable. His eyes caught on the smooth skin of your fishnet covered thighs before trailing up to your pursed pink lips.

You had felt his eyes on you before you spotted him. His eyes trailed from your thighs to your lips before his cheeks heated as your eyes met. You giggled and gave him a shy wave. He slowly made his way over to you a big smile gracing his face.

"You look great." He smiled at you. Your cheeks heated before you gave him a twirl. You giggled "You look pretty good yourself." He smirks at you before reaching out his hand. You take his hand and he tugs you towards the refreshments table.

He hands you a cup of punch before grabbing one for himself. "You look really really good, Y/N." he says as his eyes drink you in again. He is looking at you like he wants to eat you and it has your thighs clenching with want. You smirk at him looking up at him through your lashes "Are you checking me out, Wally?" You tease.

"Umm. Yea I definitely am. Is that okay?" he asks curiously. “It might be.” You shrug looking away from him. Rhonda comes running up to you as the song changes. She grabs your hand before saying “Sorry Wally I need to steal her for a minute.” Wally grabs your drink as you get pulled to the dance floor mouthing a sorry to him.

Rhonda gets you to the middle of the dance floor before spinning you around to face her. “Dance with me.” She says as she begins to sway her hips. “What?” You question as you begin mimicking her dance moves. “Wally is giving you fuck me eyes. All you need to do is shake your ass a little and he will be putty in your hands.” She smirks flicking her eyes to the refreshments table where Wally watches you.

You sway your hips and trail your hands down your body slowly as you watch Wally watch you. He’s got his bottom lip between his teeth as he is mesmerized by the sway of your hips. He sets the drinks down and makes his way to you. His eyes never leave your frame.

He stands a few feet from you practically drooling as your dress rises showing more skin. You don’t even notice that he’s made his way to you until you feel his warm hands grab your hips. You turn slightly looking up at him as you back your ass up against him. Hit hands tighten on your hips and his warm breath dances across the back of your neck.

You grind against him as he mumbles out “fuck”. You giggle before wrapping your arms around his neck bringing his chin to rest on your shoulder. His hands slide to rest on your lower stomach warming your skin.

You take this opportunity to spin around in his arms. His hands now on your ass. You lean up on your tiptoes and whisper in his ear “Do you wanna get out of here?” Your lips graze his neck as his breath catches. He whimpers in your ear before saying “Yes. Please. Need you.” His words come out choppy like his brain is slower than his mouth.

You giggle kissing his cheek before grabbing his hand and tugging him through the other dancing bodies. You barely make it out of the library before he was pinning you against some lockers lips attaching to your neck and his hands kneading your ass.

Your hands grip his strong shoulders trying to steady yourself which is failing as his lips trail farther down your neck. “Wally…” you whimper out trying to get his attention. He either doesn’t hear you or doesn’t care leading you to lace your fingers through his thick hair tugging his hair until he pulls back.

He grunts at you as a pout graces his face. “Why’d you make me stop?” He groans before trying to attach back. You tug sharply on his hair. “Look where we are.” You say reminding him that anyone could leave the library and see you. It takes a second for his hazy mind to realize what you want. He grabs your hand and begins tugging you deeper into the school.

He almost stops a few other times but you give him a pointed look so he trudges on until you arrive at the abandoned teachers lounge. Once he pulls you through the door he’s got your thighs in his hands and your back pressed into the door as his lips finally attach to yours.

His lips warm yours, he nibbles at your bottom lip and snakes his tongue in your mouth while his hands knead your thighs. Your hands roam anywhere you can reach, scratching and tracing every inch. The kiss finally breaks leaving you gasping for breath as his lips trail down your jaw before his tongue licks at your neck. He blows cool air onto your neck before biting it and tracing the ache with his tongue.

He tightens his grip on you before pulling away from the door and sitting on the couch. As you settle into his lap a whimper passes through his lips as his hands slide under your dress gripping your ass roughly through your fishnets. You slowly rock your hips against his hardening cock, a tiny sigh slipping past your lips when your clit rubs against him.

His hips jut up at the cute noise that leaves your swollen lips. He uses his grip on your ass to guide your hips along his aching cock. You reach down to unbutton his slacks before lifting yourself to help him slide them down. Once you settle back against him a whine leaves the both of you. Your warmth seeps into his underwear leaving a damp spot where you grind down on him.

You roll your hips needing more friction, lacing your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, head tossed back as you hear him whimper out "Fuck yes baby just like that." You clench at his raspy words before looking down at him. He pulls you closer against him before he buries his face between your breast groaning and nipping at them with his teeth through your dress.

You gasp as he stands up suddenly flipping you onto your back on the couch. He stands on his knees in between your legs looking up at you. His warm hands run up your fishnet covered legs causing more heat to rush to your center. They trail up your inner thighs pushing your dress up as they go before settling an inch away from your molten middle.

He dips his head trailing his lips up from your knee a murmured plea leaving him. "Fuck can I please taste you baby? I need it. Please." He begs and who are you to deny him. His hands quickly pull your panties off your hips before he scoots back settling between your legs throwing one over each shoulder before reaching between your thighs and ripping the fishnets apart so he can get to you.

He smirks when a gasp leaves your lips, looking up at you "Gonna keep these on. You look so hot in them." You whine out as he licks a fat stripe up your center, your hands clenching and unclenching at your sides. He then spreads you open with his thumbs before spitting on your pussy and dragging it up to your clit with his middle finger. You whine out hips lifting to get his mouth on you.

He finally gives in and latches his mouth onto your clit massaging it with his tongue before his wet finger slides into you slowly. You cry out at the sensation your hands sinking back into his hair pulling you impossibly closer to your center.

He nips gently at your clit as he slips another finger inside of you. His fingers curl up into that spot that has the air leaving your lungs. He smirks against your clit continuing his abuse of your pussy. You cry out as your legs start to quake around his head. He adds a third finger sending you over the edge screaming "WALLY". He continues brushing that spot as he coos at you "That's it. Such a good girl for me. Gonna let me fuck this sweet pussy? Make you cum around my cock?" You cry out as you push at his shoulders getting over stimulated.

He pulls away before he bites onto the plush skin of your inner thigh before he bullies the spot until it has a purple hue. "Baby, gonna need an answer before I cum in my pants please." He begs looking up at your flustered state. You lock eyes with him giving him a nod yes.

He sigh leaves his mouth as if you were gonna say no to him. He crawls up your body before stripping you naked and following in suit himself. He grabs your thighs pushing them to your chest before rubbing his throbbing cock along your folds to get himself wet. He leans back and holds both of your thighs with one hand before he sets his hand over his cock pressing himself into your clit. You cry out as he thrusts, the head of his cock brushing over your clit deliciously before he drags his tip to your drooling entrance.

He pushes the tip in groaning out "So fucking tight. Fuck." You whimper as he slowly sinks into you. Once he's fully inside you he leans forward planting kisses to your lips. As he is kissing you his hips pull out slowly before slamming back into you, he swallows the scream that leaves you before pulling away himself to pant into your neck.

His hips continue their brutal pace as he falls apart inside you. He is whimpering 'fucks' and 'good girls' into your neck as he speeds up his pace. He leans back guiding one hand to your clit rubbing it in tight circles praising you "Taking me so well baby. Fuck feels so good." His eyes are locked onto your blissed out state. Your hair a mess and your lips wet spurring him closer to the edge. His hips stutter as you pulse around him.

"Fuck. Gonna let me cum in you baby?" he grunts as sweat drips down his temple looking up at you with hazy brown eyes. "Yea Wally. Yes please." You cry out as you feel yourself tipping over the edge. Wally watches as you cum around him looking so beautifully tired and gripping him so tight. He snaps his hips a few more times before burying his face back in your neck whimpering "Good girl" as he pumps you full of cum.

I’m unwell about this photo specifically

And I’m crying again

WALLY FINALLY GOT HIS TOUCHDOWN… WHILE ON THE FIELD WITH HIS BESTIES… PROTECTING THEM THE WHOLE RUN THERE… GUYS…😭

Just wanna hear you scream

18+ MDNI

In honor of finally hitting 150 followers, enjoy

CW: smut, mask kink, riding, unprotected sex, cream pie, choking, and spanking.

It was October 200something fall had officially arrived in Split River, Wisconsin. While most people enjoy this time of year, it's kind of difficult when you aren't among the living. So while the living were getting ready for Halloween weekend, the ghost had their own plans to join in the festivities. With Friday being movie night, all movies were Halloween themed, ranging from the classics to downright scary. The person who picked the movie rotated every week, so it was finally your turn to pick the movie. It was the week before Halloween, and you decided to watch a classic horror, Scream. You were the resident horror fan while you were alive and carried that title into the afterlife.

It absolutely crushed you on missing out on the latest horror movies being released, but were thankful that the school got copies of the movies on dvds. So once Friday rolled around, it was finally time to witness what was going on in the horror world during the 90's. You have overheard some of the living talking about how good it was and you were intrigued. The gym was already set up for movie night. While Mr. Martin is typically against horror movies, he let it slide for October because tis the season. As the movie starts, you walks towards the couch where Wally is currently sitting on and he reaches out towards you and pulls you into his lap. Getting settled in his arms and wrapping a blanket around both of you and reaching down on the table to grab a bowl of popcorn. Your eyes were instantly glued to the movie playing in front of you and occasionally you and Wally would feed each other popcorn. “Gross.” You can hear Rhonda say from where she was sitting in front of you on the floor. You leaned down to hear and whispered “Don't worry Rons, I'll totally save you.” You let out a giggle as she playfully slaps you away from her. Settling back in Wally's lap continuing to be engrossed in the movie. Unbeknownst to you, someone was definitely watching you more than the movie.

Wally tried to feed you more popcorn, but you swatted away his hands and at that he stopped trying and handed the bowl off to Rhonda who was sitting in front of the couch. Wally then started to observe you, he noticed the way your eyes lit up when Sidney managed to escape from the killer, the way they widened when the killers were revealed. Another he noticed was the way your thighs clinched together when seeing Ghostface appeared on the screen and the way your breath hitched hearing the voice modulator being used by Stu and Billy. Wally made a mental note of that locking it away in his memories. Once the credits started to roll, you instantly turned to face him and asked him what he thought of the movie. A smile broke on his lips and he replied “I think it was a good movie.” “Good? Just good.” You replied. Wally chuckled “I'm not as well versed in horror movies as you are Hun.” You blushed and hid your face into his chest. Wally chuckled and held you closer.

It was the week of Halloween and you were buzzing with excitement because it is your favorite time of year. Not everyone was keen on Halloween as you were. From stealing decorations from the living world to eat your body weight in candy and the annual dance that Mr. Martin put together for everyone. Wally was a tad bit distant, but it wasn't obviously noticeable. You both had plans to go to the dance together and then spend the rest of the night alone. You really didn't pay too much mind in Wally's small absences because you chopped it up to be that maybe he was planning on something special for you because he's kept you away from the little hide out you both share.

It was finally Halloween! The night of the dance and you were thrumming with energy. You and Wally had the perfect couples costume as Sidney and Billy from Scream. As much as you would have loved for Wally to dress up as Ghostface, Mr. Martin had a no mask policy for the dance. Which you understood…kind of, but you settled for the next best idea. Since it was just your small group the dance was held in the library. You and Wally arrived together, both of you taking in your surroundings and noticed how nice it came together. You spotted Rhonda and Charley near the punch bowl and made a beeline over to them. Wally is left on his own until he spots Ajay, Jonah, and one of the twins he couldn't remember which one was which since they were scarily identical. He made his way over to them and joined in the conversation. As the night progressed you and Wally had your fair share of candy, spiked drink or two and dancing. You were growing a bit tired and kind of over the dance. While finishing your last dance, Wally leaned down and whispered in your ear “Do you want to get out of here?” You immediately nodded and he took that chance holding your hand and sneaking out of the library when no one was watching.

Wally led you to your little hiding spot that he kept you away from the entire week. When you finally arrived in your spot under the stage in the auditorium and the door closed by Wally. He was on you faster than you could blink. His lips crashed onto yours and his hands were fumbling around your body trying to remove your clothes. You pulled away from him and gasped for air. He tried to chase your lips, but you put your finger up to his lips to stop him which resulted in him pouting. Breathing hard you asked, “Wally, what has gotten into you?” While pouting he said, “You look so good hun. I just had to have you.” You rolled your eyes at him and he still was pouting at you. “Please can I kiss you?” He begged. You were a sucker for begging which Wally knew and he always used it to his advantage. “Fine.” You grumbled while caving in. He smirked and went right back into kissing you. He guided you to the couch and stopped. His hands danced at the bottom hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head. His eyes widened noticing you weren't wearing a bra, his hands danced down your body leaving goosebumps in its wake while he reached the waistband of your pants. He quickly undid the button and stepped back so you could step out of your pants. You were just left in your lacy black underwear which you knew Wally loved. His eyes scanned your body and noticed your panties and let out a quiet groan.

You giggled and he asked, “what's so funny hun?” You replied, “It looks like you are really over dressed while I'm barely even dressed.” He chuckled, “Well, if you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask.” You blushed at his boldness. With that he began to strip himself of his clothing, joining you in just underwear. He asked you one favor “Close your eyes for me? I have a surprise for you.” You immediately does what he asks and he gets what he needs for the surprise. Once he's settled on the couch without his boxers and he says “You can open your eyes now.” You open your eyes, letting them readjust to your surroundings. Once they were clear a gasp left your lips. There on the couch was Wally in a Ghostface mask. You were shocked, no one knew of your kink. You never mentioned it to anyone, not even Wally because you weren't too sure how'd he react, but this told you a lot more than you cared to ask.

“What's the matter Hun? Looks like you've seen a Ghost.” Wally spoke. Instantly your knees were weak for him. You had no words. He reached a hand out to you and pulled you to him. His fingers ghosted the waistband of your panties, his fingers would dip into the waistband teasing you. It was driving you insane and you finally had enough and whined out “Please just take them off.” He obeyed your pleading and removed your panties so quickly and led you to step out of them. He pulled you down to his lap and lifted you just for a moment to line up his cock to your cunt. He slowly set you down on top of his dick and both of you moaned at the feeling of it. You took him slowly until you were fully seated on him to the hilt.

You began to ride him and letting the ecstasy fill the room. His hands were blindly trying to find your hips, and it wasn't until you grabbed them and placed them on your hips. Once he gave them a gentle squeeze just to make sure, he began to help you ride him. Moans, groans and grunts began to fill the room as well as the smell of sweat and sex. You whined “Wally I'm so fucking close.” Each roll of your hips, he matched by thrusting up into you. He slowed down and that caused you to cry out of frustration. “Walls, what are you doing?” You cried. He didn't say anything just slowly rolling his hips and keeping this annoying pace. It was driving you insane and lead you to begging. “Please Walls, please.” You had no idea what you were pleading for but it had to be better than this. He finally snapped his hips hard up into you. Bring back his pace up hard and his hands gripping harder on your hips. You cried out “Thank you” over and over again. One of Wally's hands left your hips and gripped your throat. Lightly choking you at first, then he slowly started to add more pressure. The faster he drives his hips up into you the pressure he applied to your throat. He knew the correct way to choke you without hurting you, he knew exactly how hard to squeeze to get you to that sweet spot. You trusted him and vice versa. You were getting closer and closer to the edge. The tip of his cock kept hitting your g-spot over and over again. Before he administered the last squeeze that would tip you over, he gazed deeply into your eyes looking for any signs that you were uncomfortable with this. When your eyes fully connected, he knew that you were okay with everything and so far gone getting close into subspace. He noticed how your eyes were glossy and glazed over. With that he gave the final squeeze while he thrusted up into you and let go once he felt you clenching down on him and cumming. You cried out his name and gasped for air. You rolled your hips while coming down from your high. Wally thrust kept meeting yours until he held you down and cummed into you. You whined loudly, overstimulated and lightly hit his chest. “ I know hun, I know.” He mocked you and gave your ass a spank. Once he finally came down from his high, he removed the mask and pulled you into his chest. He rubbed your back while humming your favorite song to bring you back down from your high. Your breathing turned back to normal and you were no longer shaking in his hold. Wally lifted your chin up, “ Welcome back, Princess. Are you okay?” He asked, which you nodded, but Wally wasn't too happy with that. Another spank to your ass and a whine left your lips. “ What the hell was that for?” He replied, “I asked you how you were doing and you know to answer me with words.” “Oh.” You said shyly. “Yeah, oh.” He chuckled. “I'm doing fine, babe.” You finally spoke and Wally was pleased with that answer. “I didn't hurt you, did I?” He asked. “No sir.” You replied and felt Wally dick twitch at that. You didn't mention it. “Where did you even find a Ghostface mask?” You asked him. “ In Principal Hartman’s office. Looks like he confiscated one from a student.” He said. He carefully pulled out of you and rearranged the both of you to lay down on the couch. You wanted to ask him how he knew about your kink, but you were growing very tired. You could ask him about it tomorrow.

Enjoyed you should definitely check out

Fever Pitch

He’s so cutie

Bringing back the cuteness that was this interview 😍😭

└ Milo Manheim: The Puppy Interview

Me telling my parents how much I love Milo Manheim but they’re just looking at me like a crazy person

Story Recommendations part 2

Okay so 95% of what I read on here is Wally Clark fan fiction, I do however, read others (they just so happen to be other Milo Manheim characters, what can I say the man does something to me🤭😜) and thought I would share my favourites. I will update every so often when I can.

Zombies- Zed Necrodopolis

Bubblegum by @whoopsyeahokay

Stupid Z- band by @cades-outsider

Awkward Question by @stray-kaz

Betwixt (part 2 of awkward question) by @stray-kaz

Midnight Resolution (part 3 of awkward question) by @stray-kaz

When the sun falls by @naok-iyuu

Love is about the details by @naok-iyuu

Its beginning to look a lot like... by @naok-iyuu

A cup full of love by @naok-iyuu

Rushed beginnings by @littlelalu

Prom Pact- Ben Plunkett

Death Star by @ryrywrites

Study Routine by @simpingland

Bookstore by @littlelalu

Thanksgiving- Ryan Baker

Ride by @solarismoons

Spend time between the holidays by @rosietoesy

Milo Manheim

No Broke Boys by @yourmomsawh0r3

Smart Girl by @aionue-writes

Obviously by @aionue-writes

Shapeshifter? by @aionue-writes (chapter 1)

Shapeshifter? by @aionue-writes(chapter 2)

Stories by @littlelalu

Lego Date

Study Date

First impressions

Facetime

I love you

I love you (alternative ending)

Unplanned encounters

Unplanned encounters part 2

A new chapter

Stolen moments

Stolen moments part 2

A perfect fall day

Dangerous games

In the spirit of halloween

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.

🏈___________________________

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