#zed necrodopolis x fem!reader

[exceptional-z]

zed necrodopolis x reader

this is an au where zombies were never allowed to go to human high school. so zed is aged up (though age is never mentioned so you can imagine whatever) but has never been on the other side of the barrier. i attempted not to use gendered language but i tend to write with fem!reader in mind.

also please ignore any inconsistent verb tenses. english is not my first language and verb tenses are literally the bane of my existence. + i wrote this in like an hour

your family didn’t have much money growing up, hence why you lived so close to the gate. real estate was cheap since no one wanted to live near the zombies. but it also meant you learnt how to save money in as many ways as you could.

seabrook was all about perfection. if a mattress was two years old, it was time to throw it out and buy a new one. if a bike had a single scratch, it was thrown into the dumpster. all of the old items deemed as ‘garbage’ were brought to a warehouse that was emptied around every two weeks. and this was your favourite place to be.

you sneak into the warehouse. it’s late at night and there’s never any security around. you’re immediately greeted with piles of furniture and clothing and trinkets that are too unique to fit into the seabrook aesthetic.

you start to rummage through with the plastic gloves you always wear just in case any bugs or mice decide that this is a perfect place to burrow. lost in thought, you don’t hear the creaky door open, but you do hear the sudden shout that erupted from behind you.

your heart nearly stops beating at the sudden noise and your head swivels around. the lighting isn’t great, and you can only make out the vague shape of the person blocking your only exit. he looks fairly lanky, and if you squint you could make out some of his features. he doesn’t look much older than you and he certainly doesn’t scream “imposing”. he’s taller than you, but maybe if you caught him off guard you could knock him out with one of the many heavy objects splayed around you.

“i was told no one ever came in here,” the boy says. fuck, his voice is attractive.

“they don’t. in the three years i’ve been doing this i’ve never run into anyone else.” you answer, obviously suspicious.

“i’m uh- i’m just looking for a gift for my little sister,” he explains, “it’s her birthday soon and she said she wanted a new bike but we can’t really afford it.”

you relax a little at his explanation, sharing that you’d gotten into the habit of coming here to rummage for things since your family also doesn’t have much money. “i could help you look if you’d like? and even if we can’t find a bike, there’s a ton of cool stuff you can find if you’re willing to dig.” you offer.

you can’t be sure, but you think he smiles as he answers. “i’ll take any help i can get. my friend eliza told me to try coming here to look, but honestly, i’m a bit overwhelmed.”

you talk and laugh together for what must be at least two hours. you don’t end up finding a bike, but you find an old cheerleader outfit that looks to be in perfect condition. you can’t imagine why anyone would throw it out unless it just didn’t fit anymore. the boy -who still doesn’t have a name- literally jumped up in joy when he saw you holding the skirt from the set, doing a little celebratory dance that should have been embarrassing but was somehow endearing. (that’s how you figured out his little sister was obsessed with cheer).

eventually you have to part ways; it’s getting into the early hours of the morning and you both need to be getting home. he’s halfway down the street when you realise you never shared names and you yell out, “wait!”

he stops and turns around, and you jog to catch up to him.

“what’s your name, stranger?” you ask, “just in case we run into each other again.”

he tells you his name is zed, and you tell him your name in return. for a few seconds the both of you just stand in the street, memorising each other’s faces until you look away, shaking off the thoughts of how attractive he is under the starlight.

(bonus: when zed gets home, all he can think about is you. he wonders if eliza would recognise your name, or if he would possibly run into you if he chose to go to school for once instead of always skipping. he wonders where you live in zombietown, since he doesn’t recognise you and is sure he would remember seeing someone as gorgeous are you. he spends the next few days wondering, and then is in for the shock of his life when he sees you through the fence that blocks off zombietown from seabrook and learns that you’re human.)

[whoopsyeahokay]

Bubblegum

summary: Zed has a bad day and needs an outlet before he goes on a rampage. guess who has to save the town from a possible Zombie attack? yep. it's you or no one.

pairing: Zed Necrodopolis x fem!reader

warnings: smut. AU - canon doesn't exist here. zombies being zombies. biting. this is not your Disney's Zombie.

💌this is a little bday surprise for @therosietoesy 🩷 i'm still working on your request, my dove, fret not. i just wanted to actually gift you something 🥰

bonne fête, ma belle

___________________________🫧

Bubblegum

The thing about Zombies, you learned, is that they need to bite. The Z-Bands keep a lot of things in check, basically slow-release sedation to tamp down those violent urges, but if their heartrates rise above a certain level, the technology is about as useful as a chocolate teapot.

And Zed's heartrate? Well, in the wake of the Prawn's devastating loss—that he shoulders the blame for—and another infestation of creepy creature that wants to whisk Addison away forever, Zed is on the brink of a total meltdown. To put it mildly.

His sockets are already black as the abyss when he finds you behind the school, snarling and spitting as he tries to ask for help, for an outlet; need you, now. He grabs your wrist as soon as you get to your feet and tugs you against him. Red lips curled back, yellowing teeth bared, the monster inside him clawing its way out faster than you'd ever seen.

You give him a pretty smile, "You wanna take this somewhere private, big guy?"

And, no, he fucking doesn't. Can't. Too consumed by thoughts of beating his fat cock into you until you scream. At this point, he can barely string together a sentence, words reduced to throaty animal noise. You giggle, sweet as sugar, and raise one hand to cradle his jaw and boldly sweep your thumb across his bottom lip.

"You're in bad shape, huh?" You comment, not surprised when he snaps his teeth at your thumb.

Breathing labored, eyes boring into you as you gaze so fondly up at him, "Want," he manages to growl. You don't consider it an attack when he grabs you roughly and pushes you against the wall, brittle nails digging into your flesh as he lifts you by the backs of your thighs. A long pause wherein he just pants against your neck and then, "Please."

Such a courteous beast.

His Z-band is practically wailing, the sound reminding you to cast that neat little spell you've been using since you and Zed started this thing.

You mutter the incantation between stinging kisses before he savagely shoves his tongue in your mouth, fucking it in and out as he tries to taste every tooth and ridge and soft piece of tissue. God, you live for these moments. When he's completely at the mercy of his darker side. The side he tries so hard to smother outside of Zombietown. The side you love.

Not to say you don't love the whole package. It's just that you're more exclusive with the monster than the man. Person Zed isn't as...upfront about what he wants with you. Less demanding, more cautious. Meanwhile, Zombie Zed is a lot more decisive and has sunk his teeth into your neck to claim you more times than you can count. Hence the rubber-skin spell. Keeps your skin intact and the Zombie cooties from spreading.

He finally releases your mouth, biting and kissing a trail from your jaw to your pulse point. He pins you to the wall with his hips as his hands claw under your shirt, fisting into the fabric before, without warning, he tears it open. Needy. Desperate. Fucking hungry for you in his ragelust.

You can feel him through his jeans, huge and growing as the Zombie takes over completely, and your mouth waters. This is going to hurt in the best way. He grinds himself against your pussy; sharp, vicious strokes a threat of what's to come, all the while panting and snarling into your skin as he chews chunks of flesh that don't tear away from your throat.

Witches and Zombies really do make the best match, you think greedily, equally as frenzied as you yank his shirt over his head. Then it's skin on skin, your bra in pieces at his feet; his big, calloused hand groping your tit just this side of painful. He grunts, hips moving harder, faster, blunt teeth grazing the soft underside of your chin.

"Want," He rasps again, long fingers teasing under your skirt and pressing insistently between your pussy lips through your panties. In a brief moment of clarity, Zed leans back, expression pleading, "Baby, let me—fuck, I can't—" And then it's gone, the green mist rushing back in, making his eyes wild and his movements stiff as rigor mortis.

You don't even have the chance to give him permission before his fingers dig under the edge of your panties and plunge into you, corkscrewing deep as he growls in delight at how wet you already are for him.

"Mine," Zed bites into your throat, and you don't disagree, moaning as his fingers snap in and out, drilling your sweet spot. "Only mine."

There's no point echoing his sentiment, Zed so far under that he doesn't actually care to hear your thoughts, just wants to make sure you're aware that you're owned. He removes his fingers long enough to rip a hole in your panties, then to get his fly undone—the button flying, zipper torn—and his jeans pulled down enough to free his dribbling cock.

His free hand clenches a chunk of your hair and he angles your head, presses his brow against yours, demanding, "Tell me." He teases the fat head between your lips, pushes in the barest fraction, and smirks when you keen.

For a second, you have no fucking idea what he's asking until you remember, "I want it, Zee."

"Again."

Louder, "I want it, please, Zee."

Zed leans in, nips your earlobe and breathes, "Good girl...perfect little prey for me..." and then, fuck, he spears inside you, the feeling like being split in two. He has one hand on your ass, the other tangled in your hair, his teeth deep in the join of your shoulder and neck.

Every thrust is brutal, punching sighs and whimpers from your chest. He doesn't care if it hurts. He needs this. Needs you like this. And you lose yourself in it as much as he does, your nails mauling welts across his back. The sensation coaxes him to move faster, harder, both hands on your hips now to guide you on his cock exactly how he wants. Your tits bounce as he fucks you with everything he has, your brain scrambled from the sheer fucking strength he has at his disposal.

"Close," He grunts. He sinks to his knees, keeps your back against the wall, and fucks up into you with abandon. His head thrown back, lips parted, eyes clamped shut in ecstasy. "Fuck, baby, gonna come."

He slams into you a few more times and then roars his release, biting into your neck with the intention of ripping flesh from bone. Zed stays like that, his cock pulsing inside you as he spills an ungodly amount of Zombie seed, so much that some oozes around his cock. He hitches his hips three, four, five more times before going still.

The wailing soundtrack of his Z-band finally stops. You don't actually need that to tell you he's slowly returning to normal. His muscles loosen marginally, his skin warms; popped veins shrink and his skin adopts a less sickly hue. Still grey, just less dead. It takes a minute for him to calm all the way down, and when he does, he removes his teeth from your neck and lifts his head.

You smile at him, gentle, fond, "Hey, big guy. You with me again?"

Zed swallows. Nods. His gaze falls between your joined bodies, and he licks his lips at the sight before glancing back up at you.

"Did I hurt you?" He has to know, his concern palpable.

"No." You promise, "You never actually do."

He doesn't look like he believes you, but he doesn't argue. Not today, anyway. You watch him take in your torn shirt and basically disintegrated panties and bra. With a cringe, he hands you his shirt.

"You know, one day I'm going to bill you for everything you've shredded," You say playfully in an effort to prove you're okay.

It works, "You'd think by now you'd start bringing an extra set of clothes with you." He teases back, smirking. It's the first time that he's acknowledged how he gets when the Zombie takes the wheel, and you almost miss it because you can't get your brain to get your mouth to work fast enough.

"You keep saying 'this is the last time, cutie, I swear'," You parody his voice as you roll your eyes. "So, why would I prep for something that isn't suppose to happen?"

And Zed looks utterly confused—still cockdeep inside you, mind you, hardly softened at all.

"I mean the last time I'll be rough. You know that I've claimed you, like, eight times," He says, again acknowledging for the first time what happens when his inner Zombie comes out.

You're almost stunned at how casual he's suddenly being about everything after months of ashamed side-eye and stilted aftercare.

"I think that's a pretty convincing argument to be prepared, babe." He tacks on, his expression telling you that you should've known.

Gaping at him, "Wait, I thought all of that was heat of the moment stuff?" You blink wide eyes at him, almost falling back on your ass when he dislodges you and helps you to your feet.

"Heat of the mo—You know I'm still me when I'm Zombied Out, right?"

Actually. No. You didn't know that. You assumed up to this point that Person Zed and Zombie Zed were completely separate entities with conflicting views on what they want from you.

Oops.

"So, when you say I'm yours...?" You ask slowly, not quite able to believe that this whole time you've possibly been Zombie married.

Zed scoffs, hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you into his body, his gaze turning dark and heated. "It means your mine, baby girl." And then, "Why the fuck do you think I come to you when I'm having a meltdown?"

"...because I don't scream in terror and run away?"

"You're an idiot." Zed snorts as he presses a soft kiss to your lips.

You shrug, "Apparently, I'm your idiot."

In playful retaliation, Zed nibbles your neck, bites and pulls the skin, chuckles, "Definitely mine." Then, dangerously, "but it looks like I gotta make sure you really understand what that means," he murmurs right as his Z-band beeps its first alert.

🫧___________fin.____________

also on AO3!

[cades-outsider]

Stupid Z-band

Zed Necrodopolis X fem reader

Warnings: Smut, feral zed, breeding kink (basically), creampie, unprotected sex, this is just filth and me living out my feral zed moment.

Summary: Zed keeps tampering with his z-band in order to win the football games so him and the rest of the zombies can be accepted into Seabrook. His z-band malfunctions unexpectedly after he wins yet another game, but this time, it isn't a frenzy for human brains, it's a frenzy for you.

Seabrook High School erupted in cheers as Zed, once again, won another football game. He had tampered with his z-band to do so, but he didn't think it was a big deal— even though his arm felt like it was going to burn off any moment. You were cheering proudly along the rest of the cheerleaders— for Zed.

  Bucky shot you dirty looks, as a way to tell you not to cheer for zed— but as always, you dismissed them. Zed was your boyfriend after all... although, no one else in Seabrook High knew that. It was still too dangerous to out your relationship, since most humans still hadn't really came to terms with accepting Zombies.

  You wanted to run up and kiss Zed, but ultimately knew that wasn't the best thing to do in front of all of Seabrook. As the minutes passed by and it became later, more people left the football field. The cheerleaders were the only people left on the field, putting your stuff in your duffle bag you watched as the rest of the cheer team eventually scattered off, leaving you alone.

  Meanwhile, Zed was in the locker rooms. He threw his helmet on the bench as he panted, his face and jersey were covered in dirt and sweat, as well as his green hair, which was messily stuck to his forehead, his pale skin sticky and hot.

  Zed wanted nothing more than to take off the clad football jersey, until his wrist started burning and his Z-band started beeping red, the bold words 'OFFLINE' flashed across the small screen of the band.

  Zeds veins immediately darkened and trailed up his arms, all the way to his face. He grew paler, and the veins in his face grew darker. His fists clenched in an effort to control himself as he started to pant, though a light growl erupted from his zombie and he quickly realized this was more than a frenzy.

  He felt hot and.... aroused...

  Zeds 'game' pants felt unbelievably tight and restricted, he needed you. So, he rushed out of the locker rooms and went to the last place he saw you, the football field. Which, was completely empty now... not like his zombie cared in the moment, he would take you in front all of Seabrook in this state.

  You were bent over slightly, zipping up your cheer bag when you heard feet to grass movement and a noise between a growl and a pant. You turned around and were immediately met with Zed, you smiled before you noticed the state he was in "Zed! I'm so proud- hey, are you okay?" You asked, your face twisting with worry and concern. Zed would've melted from how sweet you sounded, but right now he couldn't control this frenzy.

  When you were in his reach, he grabbed you, yanking you with him to the middle of the football field. You let out a yelp in surprise "Zed, what are you doing?" You gasped, your voice was small and meek, and for some reason that turned on his zombie more. He said nothing, he couldn't say anything but let out a series of strained growls as his chest heaved up and down from panting; it was as if he was in heat and your eyes widened when you notice the strain in his pants.

  One of his hands went to the back of your neck, wrapping his hands around your hair, in an attempt to expose your neck to him. When he realized that wasn't enough, he yanked your head back with the hand wrapped in your hair, not hard enough to hurt you but enough to make you squeak out a moan.

  Zed hurried his face into your neck, sucking and kissing at every spot he could, smelling your sweat vanilla perfume which caused the veins in his hands and face to grow darker. He nipped at your neck, not enough to actually bite you, but enough to mark you. Your hands gripped onto his chest as a way to steady yourself, and your touch set him off, he growled as he threw you on the grass of the football field, not wasting a second before he climbed on top of you.

  You weren't scared, you and Zed had done this many times but not when he was like this. He was feral and didn't give you a moment to breathe, but when he ripped your cheer top in half— exposing your bare chest, you finally remembered where you both were "wait, Zed what if we get-" You gasped, but were quickly cut off when he kissed and nipped at your boobs, forcing your thighs open with one hand and sitting him self in between them.

  You were panting now, looking at your zombie boyfriend as your hands went to touch him, but again, his zombie growled as you touched him, bringing him back to the main thing he needed you for. Zed loved you, and he was always so sweet during sex, he was almost never rough, but you couldn't help how soaked you were from this whole situation.

  Zed didn't even bother to take off your cheer skirt, he only ripped the center of it and your underwear in one clean tear, you gasped when you felt him lifting your skirt up so it bunched up on your hips, you were exposed to him and his face now rested in between your thighs. Everything happened so fast you barely had time to adjust to his mouth attaching to your clit. Your eyes rolled back and your hips jolted in surprise, you managed to rest on your elbows to look at him, his arms were tightly wrapped around your waist so that his hands rested on your stomach, you looked at his arms and moaned at the sight of his dark purple veins throbbing. Your eyes moved up to his face and before you could get a good look at his face he forced you back down with one of his hands that rested on your stomach.

  Zed ate you as if you were his last meal, his tongue circling your clit so effortlessly and his mouth slurping up your juices. The sounds were lewd and filthy, but it only seemed to turn his zombie on more. He ate you out as if it was for his pleasure, not staying long enough for you to cum. His zombie didn't know whether or not he wanted you like this or on all fours, and he growled impatiently as he finally decided to flip you. His zombie strength allowed him to flip you over with ease so that you were on all fours.

  You whined softly at the quick movement and turned back to look at him, your eyes widened once you realized his pale cock was now exposed, it seemed as if he was even bigger now that he 'zombied out'. He wasn't just bigger or paler, but the veins in his cock had grew darker as well and you moaned softly at the sight, but were quickly cut off when his hands grasped your hips and he forced your ass closer to him.

  Zed ran his cock back and forth between your folds, collecting your wetness just enough for him to slide into your pussy, but he didn't just go halfway in, he completely bottomed out and you let out a noise between a moan and a yelp as the tip of his cock reached the spot inside of you that made your toes curl.

  "Oh my god- Zed" You babbled out, head falling against the grass. He didn't allow you any time to adjust, but you were so soaked that the stretch didn't hurt. His zombie growled at your already fucked out tone, gripping your hips harshly as he set an unforgiving pace. The tip of his cock reached your sweet spot with every harsh thrust he gave you, you were so drunk on his cock that you didn't even care that you were in the middle of the football field.

  Zed was unable to say anything, only grunts and growls came from his lips while he panted and fucked you harshly. He couldn't stop, with each thrust he grew more animalistic and feral. His zombie wouldn't stop until he had you cumming on his cock and until he was spilling into you. The thought of him finally filling you up made his nails dig harder into your hips and his pace speed up.

  The side of your face was forced into the grass when he leaned over and pressed your head into it. Your mouth fell open as a series of moans fell past your lips. You cried out his name as he snapped his hips against yours, and you felt the coil in your lower stomach when the tip of his cock hit that place inside of you with each thrust. The hand that was on your head, which happened to be the one he had his z-band on, went to the side of you as he used his other hand to keep your hips in place.

  One of your hands gripped onto the arm he placed beside you, clawing at his arm for dear life as he fucked your brains out. Zed growled but didn't remove his arm from you, instead he fucked you even harder as he felt his release near. The need to cum inside of your pussy overwhelmed him and his zombie wasn't going to give out until he filled you up. He was so deep inside of you that you could've sworn you felt him in your stomach, and that thought alone made you cum. You cried out as your cum splashed against his cock, making him thrust even easier than before.

  Zed panted harder as his zombie kept him going, he wasn't tired by any means, but he needed to cum. So when you clenched around his cock from being so overstimulated he growled and finally spilled his cum deep inside you. You let out a gasp and your hand kept its hold on his hand that was on the ground next to your head, you whined as he didn't stop cumming. His hips had slowed and his cum dripped out of you while he was still inside of you. Your hand clawed at his z-band by accident, causing it to beep and turn green, the words 'ONLINE' finally popped up on the small screen.

  Zeds veins slowly returned to normal, but he was extremely tired and his whole body ached. He was still panting, but once his vision cleared and he noticed how fucked out you looked, he slowly pulled out of you, his cum leaking out of your pussy almost immediately and you whined. "Oh fuck, I'm so sorry baby" he repeated constantly, despite the hurt his body felt from his zombie taking over for so long.

  You let out a whine in response, not able to move and he quickly realized and lifted you up and into his lap after he put his pants back on. He covered your bare chest with the ripped cheer top and pulled your cheer skirt back down as his hand cleaned off your cheek and hair which was covered in grass. Despite how sore you already started to feel, you noticed the harsh color of red on his wrist, around his z-band. "Zed... that was amazing, but you've got to stop tampering with your z-band" You managed to say, your voice weak from all the moaning and crying out you did.

  Zed cracked a small smile when you confirmed that you were okay and you enjoyed it and he sighed when you mentioned him tampering with the z-band "I know.... Just... I have to win one last game and then I'll stop" He reassured you, and you hated the fact that he had to hurt himself just to be accepted into Seabrook. You nodded softly, "promise?" You said softly, looking into his brown eyes and he gently kissed your lips "I promise..."

[patrickispinky]

Sex, Drugs, Etc.

Warnings: Talk of drugs/Drug use. Possible smut in the future. SH. A lot of plot. EXTREME Canon divergence. Before Maddies time. Set in 2022

I got a lot of inspiration and motivation from @whoopsyeahokay series called October Sun if you haven't read it yet I recommend you do its amazing, you can find it on tumblr and Ao3. October Sun

(This is very self indulgent and based on things ive been through and how I could have very easily ended up as a ghost. This is NOT meant to romanticize addiction or mental illness. This is a judgment free zone so I want no bullying or hate on anyone. I'm not the best writer so be nice)

1.9k Words

Enjoy :)

-

Two days, two fucking days you’ve been rotting and no ones come to find you. Well no one alive at least. 

It started off normal, nothing out of the ordinary. Just another boring school day with the same washed out boring people. Tired eyes and even more tired souls. So what changed? A little slip up on the same thing that had almost claimed your life many times over the years except this time no one was there to save you. 

You were 14 when you first learned the only way for your brain to stop spinning, trying to find a new way to obtain peace was with a very simple little thing. Weed, this wasn't what was deadly, no it was what started the cycle. First it was weed, then it was alcohol, then it was late night parties, until one day it fell into the palm of your hand. A simple little pill, how could it cause so much damage? Things were fine until one pill turned into two then two turned into three and then you ended up on the patio of a stranger's porch foaming out the mouth. 4 days in the hospital and 2 weeks in rehab was enough to scare you for a while, but not enough to make you forget about the relief that came with it. 

That's how you ended up here, sitting in a circle sharing stories about life and death, a group of highschool boys who had no idea you were even there, playing basketball behind you. Should have just gone to group like you were told to, at least then you would have been with people who understood addiction. Now judgmental eyes fall upon you because you caused your own death. As much as you wanted to find someone, something to blame you knew you couldn't, this was your fault. The spinning hasn't stopped. At least ghosts couldn't go through withdrawal, doesn’t change the fact that the empty feeling you tried so desperately to fill is more presint than ever.  

The sweet voice of Mr.Martin fills the room. Like white nose until you heard him call your name. Head shooting up to look up at him. “Have you started working on your obituary?” Ah yes, ghost homework. you would have never thought that you would have been asked to write your own obituary yet here we are. Not as easy as it sounds.

“I’ve got some ideas” Like when you got so drunk you threw up on your friends cat, or when you were so high that your brother convinced you the plane flying over your house was a UFO, fun memories. Apparently you were supposed to write about the good parts of your life but that's kinda hard when the only good memories you had were caused by what put you in this situation to begin with. 

“Take your time, if you need to im sure some of the others wouldn't mind telling you about what they wrote, for motivation.” You give a simple nod, wanting all the prying eyes around you to look away. And they do, except a certain pair that had been watching you since you got here. 

Wally Clark, a sweet boy, bright future, died to soon like everyone else in this fucked up version of your own personal hell. He asked too many questions, it wasn't a secret how you died, just something you didn't want to talk about.  He respected that, like most of the others, most. Doesn't stop him from prying, staring with curious eyes. 

“I think that's all for today,  don't forget tomorrow's movie night as always our newest member will be picking the movie.” You give an awkward smile before standing up and turning to leave along with the rest of the group. Heavy footsteps creeping up behind you and the sound of your name being called stops you as the tall boy catches up.

“So um do you need help with your obituary? not to brag but I think I did a pretty good job on mine.” Wally was quite attractive, tall, with big brown eyes, and slick back brown fluffy hair. No doubt having made girls fawn over him during his lifetime. You and him weren't exactly friends but the idea of having a little help writing… well, a self obituary wasn't bad. 

“Sure, we could go to the library.” An excited grin grew on Wallys face, not expecting you to say yes. 

“Yeah, yeah the library sounds great” It was kinda cute how he acted sometimes. Not like a typical jock, a pure golden retriever. 

“Cool” You stand there kinda awkwardly, hands in the pockets of your red zip up hoodie as you gave him an expecting look. 

“Oh like now?” He was somehow the most confident yet most awkward person in the world. “Um okay yeah that works” 

You tilt your head sideways towards the door leading out the gym, indicating for him to follow you out. Taking the lead and making your way out, opening the door for him. “Ladies first” He let out a small chuckle at your attempt at a joke, considering it was the first time you really talked to anyone since everything happened. It wasn't that you didn't like people, you just didn’t understand the point of friends. It might sound depressing but having a small group of people that you know will stick around is better than hanging around people that barely know you. Yet here you are, stuck with strangers for eternity or until you finally move on, however long that’ll take. 

The hallway was filled with loud teens, some rushing to their next class others going out the back door, more than likely skipping. “So how does this work?” You look over at him.

“What? The afterlife?” He looks at you, a little nervous. “I don’t think im the best person to explain it to you, that's more of Charley's thing.” Charley was sweet, the first person you met when you woke up. Some sort of after life guide. 

“No, a self obituary.” The words felt weird coming out your mouth. “I know I'm supposed to write about all the great things in life but I don't think huffing nitrous in my uncles bathroom on thanksgiving really counts as a good memory.” 

“Nitrous? like the shit in whipped cream?” He gave you a sideways look, a concerned but humored smile on his face. 

“Yes, the shit in whipped cream, I don't recommend. I passed out and almost had a seizure.” As we reach the library he opens the door, allowing you to go in first. 

“Okay, maybe don’t include that in your obituary, how about” He thought for a second. “Write about your friends and family, I'm sure you have some good memories with them.” 

You let out a frustrated sigh as you sat down at a table, Wally sitting down across from you as you take off your backpack, pulling a pencil and the folder Mr.Martin had given you. “That's too much work, do you think Mr.Martin would notice if I just copied yours?” Wally laughs a little, his straight white teeth showing.

“No, he’ll totally believe that you played football and lost your virginity in your moms car.” Now you’re the one laughing, his sentence coming out way too casually. 

“You lost your virginity in your moms car?” You take a few seconds to process before you look at him judgmentally. “You included how you lost your virginity?” Though the smiles’ still apparent on your face. 

“Happy memories, remember?” And there's the jock attitude you were waiting for, somehow a bit surprising but not unexpected. “You could just write your feelings.” You have a whole journal for that from when you got sober… soberish. 

“This may come as a shock to you but I'm not exactly a feelings person.” Not totally true, it was just easier to not feel anything at all, especially with the situation you're in right now. 

“Really? I couldn't tell” The sarcastic tone in his voice very apparent. “Alright fine, if you were happiest when you were high then it's worth writing.” 

“Great, so high stories, got it” Though it wasn't the best idea, you had to write something so Mr.Martin would get off your ass about it. Reminiscing was a slippery slope, you were holding up decently so far but contrary to what all the others think it hurt deep down. “How about the first time I tried molly?” Probably one of the best ‘happy pills’ you tried in your lifetime. 

“What was it like?” He clearly had no intentions of finding out first hand, just curious of the experience. 

“It made me really aware but like in a good way.” There was no real way to describe it without going into depth. “And kinda trippy I guess, does that make sense?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” He knew he could never truly understand, no one could unless they experienced it themselves. As you begin to jot down the memory Wally peaks over, looking at the page though it's not very useful due to the fact that he doesn't possess the skill to read upside down. 

“Nosey” You laugh a little at his attempt to get to know you better. “You know if you want to get to know me, maybe there are better ways to do it then helping me write my own obituary” Yep, still didn't sound right.  

“Oh um yeah, this is probably a really weird first hang out.” He laughs awkwardly at the realization that this is still new to you. It wasn't like he had never been around a new ghost before, he knew he was supposed to be slow, supportive, ease them into it but with the way you acted sometimes made him think you were more used to this than he was. In a way you were, death was something that you had imagined so many times so when it actually came the idea of being trapped wasn't one you hadn't thought of before. “How about after we're done with this I could take you down to the pool?” 

You smile, the sentiment was sweet. “Thanks, but I don't know how to swim.” You were never taught and it didn't seem important in life so you just never learned. The surprised look on Wallys face was priceless.

“How the hell are you 18 and don’t know how to swim?” It wasn't judgmental, just a little surprised, but the grin on his face indicated that he had an idea. 

“Oh god, what are you thinking about?” You knew what was coming, he wouldn't be him if he didn’t jump at the opportunity to help a new friend. Wally was very readable and you didn’t know if that was a good thing yet. 

“I could teach you.” And there it was, of course he wanted to teach you. “It could be fun, plus you don't have much else to do.” 

“You know what fuck it, you’re right there isnt shit else to do.” Especially with your body still laying cold in the old abandoned locker rooms aka ‘the brain cave’. 

“Great, you should keep writing, the faster you get it over with the less weird it feels.” And that's how it started, you were never the friend type but as much as you hated to say it you needed someone. Sure that someone is very attractive and the idea of seeing him in nothing but swim trunks was a nice image but who could blame you? The afterlife is lonely.

Pt.2

[naok-iyuu]

A cup full of love - Zed Necrodoplis x reader

Summary : Barista in a coffee shop near Mountain college, you work part time to get extra money while studying. You swore to yourself to not let silly crushes distract you from your path, until a zombie walked through the doors.

Word count : 4.8k

no warnings, just pure fluff and silly romance

My Masterlist

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. A few months before starting college, you had found a job to, firstly, work on weekend and gather more money for you to use. Knowing that college had pretty flexible hours, you were surprised to see you could work almost when you wanted, thanks to your pretty flexible boss too.

At first, you weren't so worked up about being a barista. But once you knew how to make the best capuccino in town, you were quite delighted. You liked to learn how to make new baverages aswell as being on top of the stop list of most people through the day.

You got along with your two coworkers quite well, one of them being your age and the other slightly older.

A job between girls was scary at first, what if you couldn't stop bickering ? That thought was long washed away when you experienced how sweet they both were, even though they made it their life mission to tease the hell out of you all the time.

Most of the coffee costumers were Mountain college students, except from old Ms.Carter and her beloved cup of tea along with Mr.Ramos who liked his coffee 'as dark as his soul'. Not your words, his. You entered the coffee one afternoon, greeting your two coworkers behind the counter. It took you a few minutes to put your stuff in your locker, tie the coffee shop appron around your waist as long as pinning the badge on your chest.

Making your way behind the counter, you tied your hair back in a ponytail.

The shop was calm for now, a rare and relaxing sigh to have, which wasn't going to last.

"Things move so fast around here, monsters are allowed on campus now." Sara, the oldest among you three was the first to speak up announcing an afternoon strong on counter gossip.

"Yeah, but that just means more people and more money for us." Claire rubbed her hands with a satisfied smile already feeling your income breaking some sort of record she had in mind.

"That's true. I heard that a zombie is going to be the next captain of the football team. Apparently he was already a star in Seabrook and is aiming for the spot, I am sure the ladies are twirling around him like little flies." Your eyes rolled at Sara's speech, holding back a chuckle. She truly couldn't take a stroll without hearing tons of rumors and assemble all of them to create an even bigger one.

You finished pouring another cup of coffee for Mr.Ramos who stole your attention from the two girls chit-chat. Handing it to him, he smiled with a wave of his hand as he made his way back to his table. He could have waited at his favorite spot, but you suspected he liked best the talks Sara and Claire were sharing than the calm of his seat.

"Already so much for your first year, right Y/n ?" Arms crossed, Claire brought their attention on you, wanting to hear your opinion on all those new changes.

"Like you said, more money girls." You smiled gleefully, not thinking much about it. You had crossed paths with a bunch of monsters on campus, even made friend with a cute zomb-girl who liked the same show as you. It was certainly a drastic change between highschool and college, but it didn't faze you. It was new yet positive.

"Now that I think about it, you always had interesting choices in boys Y/n." Sara eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. So that was how she had decided to tease you today. "What is it going to be this year ? A zombie ? Or a werewolf ?"

"I could totally see her as a vampire girl, that would be so hot."

"C'mon guys ! First of all, my past crushes aren't 'interesting' or anything. And second of all, this year is study year okay ?" You rolled your eyes at their pocking, trying to distract yourself by wiping the already shiny worktop with a cloth your hand had found.

Your next romance chapter was always a hot topic between them. You couldn't blame any of the two, having a whole history of never loving the same dude twice created quite intertaining stories after all. You could find some similarities between all the boys you liked, but none of them really looked like the last one. It then became Sara and Claire second life mission to understand exactly what makes you fall from heaven for a man.

Feeling your distress, the universe seems to answer your pleading by making the door of the coffee shop open. The three of you greeted the new costumers at the same time, superimposing your voices.

You eyed the group of guys who looked at the menu while talking loudly. You could easily recognize them, all football players from your college. Names and numbers were plastered all over their jackets like name tags. Look like Sara's and Claire's talk just summoned them.

Counting in your head how many costumers you would have to take an order from, your eyes landed on a boy that wasn't quite like the others. His pale skin and green hair stole your attention as his bright smile seemed to light up the whole room, his tall frame slightly taller than most of his teammates.

This was not unfamiliar to you, he was a zombie. You spotted a hundred, maybe a bit less, of them in the school corridors and in your classes. Nonetheless, your eyes couldn't leave his face for a few seconds. It maybe was something in his eyes, you thought, or maybe how his hair was styled. No, it was definitely his smile, or his features ? Maybe his height, or just the reality that skinny men always won your heart. 'Oh god he is gorgeous' you thought.

It was only when Sara quiet voice reached your ears that you quickly turned around with wide eyes, scared the bunch of jocks may have heard her. "I think it's zombie year more than study year honey."

Your cheeks grew a deep shade of pink, earning giggles from both your coworkers. "Hey! Why none of you go and take their order ?" Your voice hissed at them in a whisper to not startle the boys. You were frustrated to have wandered far from your resolution even for a few seconds.

"Customers favorite's is you hon', go on."

You rolled your eyes, bitting the inside of your cheek before turning around to stand behind the register, a welcoming and professional smile already plastered on your face.

"Welcome, may I take your order ?"

"Uh yeah yeah of course." The team captain started delivering his teammates orders turning on himself on multiple occasion to ask again what they wanted. You knew him, bright haired bitch Josh. It was your nickname for him, only in your head though.

You caught his eyes looking at your name tag before a confident smile came to his lips. "Oh you're Y/n ? We are in the same classes !" That fake boyish attitude could be enought to throw your temper out of control. But you had to stay professional, work duty.

"Surprised you remember." You smiled politely, brushing off his demeanor from the braincells that wanted his head on a wall, deer mount style. Your fingers danced on the register screen, selecting the last two order you heard.

You can tell he doesn't care, only eager to make himself interesting towards the guys accompanying him. The fact he had to check your badge a second time before talking to you said it all.

"If I knew you were here, I would have come sooner." With a smirk, he turned to nod his head at his friends. All mighty satisfied with himself while some of them laughed.

"That will be 29,10$ please." You smiled again and a few guys laughed again, but this time mocking their captain who didn't get any reaction out of you.

His smile faded and his eyebrows fell while he took out his wallet, he surely din't want to pay but told his team the drinks were on him.

After a sigh, he handed you 30 dollars, not looking at you anymore. "Keep the change." Were the only words leaving his mouth before his back faced you, rushing his way to a table as far away from you as possible.

A sigh escaped through your nose, that surely was quite the show he just put himself through. Unlocking the register to secure the money you just got handed over, a voice cleared itself, getting your attention as you looked up.

"I am really sorry about him, he always thinks he can get his way with everybody."

Your eyes met the sheepish smile of the gorgeous boy with green hair. You kicked at the back of your mind all of the thoughts that were preventing you from reacting to his sentence, you couldn't get distracted and stare at him when he was right in front of you.

"It's okay, you don't need to appologize for him. I've already seen a lot of that comedy around school, much to my dismay I am used to it now." You felt your nose wrinkling as a chuckle that tried to ease his mind left your throat. What the hell were you feeling so nervous about ?

Your hands felt sweaty when you brushed your palms against one another, you were quick to discreetly wipe them on your appron. It was certainly your coworkers's eyes piercing holes in your back that had you worked up. You could hear the clinks of the glasses behind you, and yet, you still felt their gaze trying to grasp any sort of reaction coming out your body. They really didn't help.

"I still wanted to." His smile seemed to regain back its natural confidence. "So, you are at Mountain College ?" Your quick approval made him rase his hand over the counter. "I am Zed, Necrodopolis. Nice to meet you."

You shove your surprise and shyness to the side, raising your hand to take his in a quick and gentle shake. "(Y/n) (L/n)." He nodded at your words.

"We'll see each other often then." His smile grew as he took a step back to inform you he was going back to his friends. Your hand waved at him before turning back to help the girls with the drinks.

Two pair of eyes looked at you with raised eyebrows, showing surprise and anticipation of what's to come. You felt seen and your frustration, slight embarrassment, crept back in. Your cheeks quickly colored themself with a sweet pink as you knew what you were going to be annoyed with for the rest of the year.

"Third of all," You whispered shouted at them, trying to add another point to your defense. "I like them blond !"

Sara laughed at your misplaced attempt. "Yeah obviously. That's exactly what your latest dark haired love interest looked like." Her sarcasm didn't leave much room for you to think about a come back as you sighed, again.

Claire seemed more deep in thought, looking at you with frowned eyebrows. "Aren't you into jocks anyway ? You always pick the golden retriever ball guy when you watch a serie."

"I am going to 'accidentally' put salt instead of suggar in both of your coffees."

Having finished all of the jocks drinks, you were quick to welcome a new costumer, leaving the traitors that worked with you do the 30 dollar worth of service. Claire was the one placing the drinks on the tables occupied by the eleven young men who couldn't stop talking about sports, muscles and girls. Her dark eyes curiously looked at the boy who caught your attention for a brief second, finding his gaze directed to your spot behind the counter as you prepared, yet, probably the hundredth coffee of the afternoon. A slight smile was discreetly written on her face when she wished a good time to the clients.

When she came back to you with glasses and cups she picked up from empty tables, she whispered to you. "Be discret, he's looking at you." Placings the dishes in the sink for you to clean, you were already cleaning some forks and plates a few more glasses wouldn't hurt, you looked up. Not as discret as you thought, you saw the profile of the only boy you could put a name on. You were about to drop your seconds of staring when his eyes met yours. Panicked, you didn't pond over your actions and quickly adverted your staring back on your current task.

A wide smile stretched Zed's features as he tried to hide it by running his hand over his face. One of the boy caught his act and teased him, only for Zed to divert his attention by highlighting how good the baverage tasted. He made a mental note to come more often, why not bring Zoey too sometimes.

However, the drinks would possibly not be the only reason why he'll come back.

☕. . .

Crossing path with Zed in college was harder than you thought. Well it was fair enough to say that every day had its own roller-coaster of stress and you weren't going to add more of it on top by searching a green haired boy that had the irritating power to make your heart flutter.

You weren't the kind of girl who would hit on a guy you found pretty, rather preferring to admire them from afar and earning a bunch of 'confident girl' advice from your friends and colleagues.

But right now, it wasn't important. If the all powerful universe wanted for you to see more of this specific jock, he would put his plan to work.

Your finger pressed the 'hot chocolate' button of one of the school vending coffe machine, a pleased expiration leaving your lungs. Chocolate was the solution to everything. The sugar in this specific drink from this specific machine, couldn't guess why but this machine made devine hot chocolate, always satisfied your taste buds and melted each one of your brain cells. Paradise in a cup.

In spite of that, your thoughts were cut short by a voice your brain still didn't quite memorized. So much for challenging the universe.

"A hot chocolate and not a coffee ?"

You almost felt your soul leave your body as Zed frame was standing right next to you. It took a second to recollect yourself and scold the angel who listened to your inner thoughts.

"I really hate the taste of coffee, plus, it makes me sleepy." Your hand grabbed the finished hot cup waiting in the machine.

"Is that even a thing ?"

"Apparently." Your met his eyes, a small, slightly nervous smile on your lips.

He stretched his back at you, his warm eyes soothing the nerves that tried to make you forget the ability to spoke and interact normally. He himself ordered a drink from the machine with a push of his finger. Your eyes couldn't help but acknowledge, he had very long hands.

He noticed your curiosity, answering a question that went in an unreachable part of your brain while you had shamelessly stared at his fingers.

"It's fake brain juice, don't ask me what's inside. You don't want to know."

Your eyes drifted to the cup, slowly being filled, then to Zed. "Let me guess, fake brain juice."

His voice found the perfect line between disbelief and comic sarcasm. "How do you know ?"

You blowed on your cup, still too hot for your sensitive lips. Zed took his own finished drink in his hand, gesturing then the cup in your direction.

"Do you want to taste ?"

You looked surprised. "Oh hm... Why not, but it might be too hot for me." You smiled sheepishly.

Cracking a joke about him being, also, too hot might be way too soon, Zed thought. Instead, he turned to pick up a disposable wooden spoon from a small box left on a poseur table next to the vending coffee machine. Filling the spoon with his drink of choice, he blowed a few times on it, before, after a second of deep thoughts, turning the handle in your direction. His fingers holding the spoon neck.

He couldn't possibly feed you with the spoon, even if it was his first thought. What would you think of him if he did ?

You thanked him with an almost silent and soft voice, your fingers taking the handle he had politely turned in your direction for you to take. You could feel your cheeks warming up at the thought of him being a gentleman on top of being charming, which made your 'no crush' resolution slowly dissolve has you tried to mentally patch the cracks.

You blowed a few times more on the hot spoon trying to make your delusion and impulsive thoughts go away with your exhales.

Once you tasted the now drinkable baverage, you frowned not understanding what flavor you just experienced.

"Surprised ?" Zed teased you, sipping his fuming hot fake brain juice.

"What on earth did I just drink ?"

"Was it bad ?" He started to wonder.

"No ! It was actually good. But I can't undertand what's in it."

His smile grew fonder and amused at your reaction. Was this your experience as a barista talking ? You surely had tasted a lot of drinks your work place offered to be this engrossed on the taste of this simple industrial juice.

"Glad to hear it, I'll let you try the bone flavor next time."

You bit your lips, did he just feed your delusion and brain for the next two months ?

"Our boss was thinking about starting to add drinks for zombies," Switching the subject to work helped you forget about a possible next time. "he made us try a bone flavored hot drink. And honestly, if bones really taste like this, I might just start eating some."

Zed blinked a few times, surprised by your words before exhaling a laughter he tried to quiet down.

"I am not sure you should actually try to do that."

His amused, warm smile made your stomach feel like a hundred buttterflies were teasing your inside with the tip of they wings. You started wondering how you would get out of this situation and brush off those unwanted feelings.

Zed noticed the corridor getting crowded, his eyes came back to yours.

"I'll see you later. Oh and I'll make sure to stop by and try the new recipes on the menu."

Your body came back to fonction when his feet made his frame move away from you. You followed his body with your eyes, waving back to him when he did, raising your voice in an unsure 'see you later'.

'I'll see you later.'

You felt your heart swell with a wave of cold and hot anticipation.

☕. . .

"You told him you'll just start to eat them ?" Sara's incredulous face stares back at you, frowning like she just heard the weirdest thing.

"It's not that bad... Is it ?" Your face tried to gain some reassurance from your coworkers.

"Depends on which 'bone' you were talking about." Claire shrugged with raised eyebrows, earning a desperate groan from you.

"Okay now you make me sound awful."

"But he laughed right ?" She explained. "It is, in fact, not that bad."

"I am sure that young man must have loved your sense of humor." A shaky and wise voice you knew like the back of your pocket made itself heard from the other side of the counter.

"Mister Ramos you should have stayed at your table." Claire gently scolded him.

"Oh but you girls talk are so much fun."

She took care of him, bringing him another drink and a pastry his greedy eyes caught in the dessert display case. Your throat rumbles again, frustrated you had to be such a dorky and embarrassing person. Behind you, Sara decided to drop the teasing while sipping on her coffee. Enjoying her break with you both. You were clearly letting this story fog your brain more than you would normally. Meaning, you were really interested in Zed.

Your attention was brought back by the carasteric sound of the tiny bell swinging from right to left after being pushed by the Cafe door. Your back straightened to welcome the costumer before your whole body came to a stop at the sight of green boyish hair and a warm contagious smile.

Zed blissfully exclaimed a big 'Hi' to the entire café before heading to the counter, in front of you.

"Hi." He now greeted you, only you.

You offered him an hesitant smile, happiness filling your core as well as stress tried to wreck your reasoning. "Hi."

He smiled to you before looking at the older girl behind you, nodding slightly his head to her. "Good afternoon Sara."

She nodded her own head to him, your eyes going back and forth between behind and in front of you. "You both know each other ?"

"I just came a few times, when you weren't on duty of course." He rolled his eyes to himself, of course he tried to stop by days ago the only hours you weren't working. How lucky of him. "And her name in on her name tag."

Of course it was, but you had to be oblivious to the same tag you almost saw every day. Reminding you that 'hey, my name isn't spelled with an H at the end.'

You shook your head to yourself, forcing your confidence to come back. "Yes, of course. I always forget we have these."

The slight sound made by Sara sipping on her drink told you enought of what she thought about your excuse.

You ignored her by wearing your friendliest smile. "So, what can I get you ?"

Zed seems to remember why he came here in the second place. No need to explain who the first place belongs to.

"I am down to try that hot bones'n'cream drink." His eyes scan the menu displayed way above your head, eyes filled with sparks of joy. "Is it really vanilla whipped cream on top ?"

His smile almost made you bit your lips, your heart shamefully feeling grateful of the cream flavor.

"It is."

"I feel like I am gonna love this."

"A vanilla lover huh ?" You teased as your eyes and finger flew over the register screen and selected Zed's desired drink.

"Are you not ?" He asked with a raise of his eyebrow.

"I mean, yes. But I am more of a raspberry kind of flavor girl."

You spoke up the price of his order, handing him the change when his hand offered you a banknote.

"It's not a bad flavor. Original at least from vanilla or chocolate." He breathed a chuckle you smiled at.

"I'll bring the order to you when it's finished."

"I'll wait for you then."

With a nod of his chinthat made his fluffly green hair move in the air, his feet took him to a single table where he was quick to wave at you when he arrived. You waved back, turning your back to search for everything you needed to start working. Except, you would have to, if Sara's eyes weren't on you with the pursiest lips.

You gave her a threatening look, which, didn't seem to scare her at all.

After a bunch of perfectly memorized movements and ingredients, you walked up to Zed's table drowning under notebooks and various notes, his order safely and royally standing tall on the plate in your hand.

"Here's for you." You succesfully found a spot to place the hot cup.

He immediately expanded the small area, pushing his books out of the way.

"Sorry for that. I have some biology to study and it's really a pain."

You were good in Biology, at least you liked to think so. Grades were definitely on your favor. Your thumbs nervously scratched the dark brown wood of the plate, wondering if your next word would be wise to say.

"If... You need, I would be glad to help."

Zed's eyes blinked, astonished, taking your words in before a bright, toothed smile took shape on his face.

"I mean yeah, I would really appreciate the help !"

"Okay, I'll be right back."

"You have a break ?"

"I, in fact, do." Your smile seemed to bring a twinkle of hope in his eyes.

You turned on your heels, and restrained yourself when wanting to throw the plate away when your frame made it to behind the counter, would make it faster but not easier to clean. So you simply placed it somewhere for Sara and Claire to use.

You worked yourself through the ingredients to make your favorite drink, at least to give you something to make yourself comfortable.

"We're switching breaks and you can't say no."

Your eyes meet Sara's who's coffee was long gone in her body system when you slided the tip a costumer gave you hours ago in the register. That would pay for your drink. She was about to ask you why the sudden change when her eyes instinctly glimpsed at Zed's spot, finding the zombie sneakily, or so he thought, peering at you.

A jovial smile tucked at her lips and she shook her head slightly, already pinning back her name tag on her shirt.

"Go get him girl." Was her green light to you.

Your barista name tag burried deep in your jean pocket and your drink tightly gripped in your hand, you went back to the jock's table.

Sitting beside him, he quickly showed you his latest lessons, went over the things that bothered his understanding and asked about the drink you brought with you.

"It's a bubble tea, black tea with milk."

"It's good ?"

"It's special. You have to be familiar with tea." You could see him peeping curiously at your cup. After tasting the flavor you love with the straw you added, you tilted your busy hand in his direction. "You want to taste ?"

His surprised eyes looked back at yours, searching for you approval. "Can I ?"

"If you don't drink the whole thing," You teased. "of course."

"Like I would ever do that."

He shook his head, thanking you for handing him your room temperature drink. Hips lips pressed around the straw and you could see the light brown liquid making its way into his mouth. A pleased sound escaped Zed as he looked at the plastic cup.

"That's acutally very good."

"I know right ?"

You playfully and happily took back your beloved beverage when he handed it back, immediately drinking from the straw without much thought.

You couldn't see, didn't notice Zed's eyes looking at the contact your lips made with the cardboard straw he just himself touched. He felt the obligation to look away while an ocean of saliva went down his throat. It was childish of him, high school level like romance to get embarrassed for this simple thing. But for some reason, it worked it's magic.

"How's yours ? You almost drank the half of it." Your chin pointed to the hot beverage almost done.

Sense came back to him like a wave. "It's exceptional. I need you to teach me how to do it."

Maybe you should be grateful for the extra whipped cream you added when you saw the gleefulness it created on his features.

"Professional secrecy. Can't give you our recipe just like that." You shrugged, your lips curled with trickiness

"Okay, then you'll have to do it for me."

"I think I can live with that."

Your words created a slight breathed chuckle he brushed away with a movement of his head.

You didn't mind, the idea of preparing again and again the beverages he would want to taste.

"Then," Zed's words interrupted your train of thoughts and you blinked at him. "Let me repay you by asking you out on a date."

A brain sucking surprise left you speechless, wondering if you just heard correctly what he just proposed to you. His brown eyes were quick to notice the effect he created, breaking his own spell with a warm voice.

"Only if you want to."

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, you couldn't let him hanging and miss your chance.

"I mean yes, yes totally."

The smile that grew on his lips showed the nervousness that was lift off his shoulders, and the victorious facial expression he tried to contain made a swirl of butterflies tickles the inside and out of your stomach. You could bet a smile like this one was only plastered on his face when winning the game of the year.

So, you took a mental note. To always fill to the brim Zed's order, and add an handful lot of whipped cream.

Well, at least a handful your coworkers won't notice.

. . .

HI LOVELY PEOPLE ! I hope the end doesn't feel rushed but U rrally strugled to finish this work TwT I hope you enjoyed !

[k-sunstar]

☼ ⋆ Milo Manheim Masterlist ⋆ ☼

My inbox is open for requests!🌙

Check out my navigation for my main masterlist and more info🫶🏻

Join my taglist!🤍

☼ Wally Clark ☼

🤍COMING SOON🤍

☼ Seymour Krelborn ☼

🤍COMING SOON🤍

☼ Zed Necrodopolis ☼

🤍COMING SOON🤍

☼ Ben Plunkett ☼

🤍COMING SOON🤍

☼ Ryan Baker ☼

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[schoolspiritsfan14]

Info about what I will write

Wanna make a request? Go for it I would love to write requests anyone has I do have some limitations though.

I'll write for any Milo characters, Wally, Zed, Ben, Ryan, Nico etc even Milo himself

All my stories will be a female character, its just something I'm comfortable with. As a female I wouldn't know how to write from a male perspective and I don't want to offend anyone.

Fluff? Heck yeah I love that its so cute.

Smut? Absolutely heck yeah! I mean it takes me a bit to get in the headspace for it but I think I do okay with it

Unfortunately I won't write any of my main reader characters or love intrests LGBTQIA+. Not that I have anything against it at ALL, its just something Im not really comfortable with and I don't want to put something out there and be offensive to anyone because I don't want that. However, side characters I can especially if they are already developed that way in a show such as Charley in School Spirits.

But yeah Im pretty much down for any requests so send them my way and ill tag you and soon as I posted :)

[kammieeeee]

zombies

ZOMBIES

ZED

✦ - nothing yet

ELIZA

✦ - nothing yet

BONZO

✦ - nothing yet

WEREWOLVES

WILLA

✦ - nothing yet

WYATT

✦ - nothing yet

WYNTER

✦ - nothing yet

AILENS

ADDISON

✦ - nothing yet

ALAN

✦ - nothing yet

ASPEN

✦ - nothing yet

ALI

✦ - nothing yet

VAMPIRES

VICTOR

✦ - nothing yet

VARGAS

✦ - nothing yet

VERA

✦ - nothing yet

DAYWALKERS

NOVA

✦ - nothing yet

RAY

✦ - nothing yet

[zombieluvr101]

ACCIDENTALLY ON

PURPOSE

Fandom / Zombies

Paring / Zed Necrodopolis x Fem!Reader

Prompt / accidentally confessing feelings ; longing stares

Summary / a hot guy likes you fr‼️ DOESNT THAT SOUND GRAND?!

Word Count / 971

Gif by / @megedonnelly

Prompt / @luvfae

Seconds left on the clock. Which is counting down the last few seconds of the most important game of my life. This game determines if I have what it takes to play football at Mountain College.

“Alright team, we only have 25 seconds on the clock. Zed, if you make this, we win,” Coach says wearily as we are timed out.

Just hearing Coaches voice, I can tell he’s nervous. I mean, yeah I am too. This is my big game. If I don’t get into Mountain College I won’t be with Y/n.

Yeah, yeah, I know! Y/n isn’t even my girlfriend yet. But she’s so smart, and witty, and the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

Okay Zed! Focus.

“Alright Wynter, I need you too be open in the center field so Maximus can throw you the ball so you can try to make the touchdown,

but if that doesn’t work try and pass it to me,” I instruct.

We get into position, the whistle blows.

Our quarterback starts us off, “White 80, hut hut!”

Wynter catches the ball and makes her way over but get tackled in the process. But she was able to pass it to me. I turn to switch my Z-band.

Seven seconds left..

The ball brushes against my fingers. But I catch it.

Six seconds left…

I use all my speed to run to the end zone.

Five.

I duck and jump over the opposing teams players.

Four.. Three… Two….

One!

I land in the end zone on the very last second.

“And the Seabrooks Mighty Shrimp have done it again! They have won the last game of the season!”

The cheerleaders are doing their thang, while the crowd goes wild.

“Seabrook! Seabrook! Seabrook!!!”

My friends and family go out for celebratory frozen yogurt. Bonzo, Bree and I are sitting at a table together. And the Acy’s and the rest of the cheer squad are talking about whatever is amusing to them.

“Actually Bonzo.. I don’t have the answer to that,” Bree stated.

Just as I start my sentence, the door to the fro-yo spot jingles. And a pair of blue converse enter the establishment.

“Hey guys!” Y/n say with a cheerful tone.

“OrR!!” Bonzo greets. Meanwhile I can’t get a single word out of my mouth. She makes my brain mush.

“Congrats on your win Zed,” She says with a smile as she takes a seat next to me. All I can do is blink and stare.

“T- hank you,” I mumble in awe of her presence. Gosh I’m such an idiot. But overall she seem amused.

“Welp I’m gonna get my frozen yogurt..” Y/n says getting up from her seat.

“Oh here! Let me pay for it,” I suggest. I jumped out of my seat and grab her hand. Walking over to the register.

“You really don’t need to pay,” She reassures.

“No, no, no I got it Y/n,” I confirm.

Once we since sit back down, Bonzo and Bree have gone outside, leaving just us two to talk. And Y/n continues to eat her fro-yo. I find it funny that the most outgoing, and spirted person I know loves the most basic flavor there is. Vanilla.

I’ve had feelings for Y/n the moment I locked eyes with her on my very first day at Seabrook. I figured that she would be like everyone else and harass me for being me. But she was the opposite.

She treated me with such kindness. She would volunteer to help me with my work if it was something I haven’t learned at Zombie school.

Or if Eliza and Bonzo would pair up for a project and I didn’t have one, she would immediately sit next to me. Making her my partner for most of the projects we’ve done.

Snapping out of my daydream I look up at her again. But this time she has some vanilla yogurt on the right side of her mouth.

Out of instinct (and a very messy little sister) I go to wipe it off of her.

“Oh you have some—” I start.

The only thing is, she turned her head towards me a little more than expected. Making my thumb press against her lips.

Our eyes meet. I’m blown away. No air left. We don’t break apart. I keep my thumb on her lips, gently stroking it.

I can’t tell if I’m imagining it or not, but I see the same passion in her eyes. Just like when I’m looking in the mirror practicing what I’m going to say to her.

Moving my hand, I place my hand on her cheek.

“Thank you,” She says in a whisper. Not once looking away from my eyes.

“No prob,” I reply with a smile.

Gravity pulls us closer and closer.

“God she’s so beautiful—”

She laughs softly, “You think so?”

huh? OH.

“Did I say that out loud?”

She nods sweetly.

“Oh yeah, mhm yea— I 100% meant too. Like I kne- like I know that I did. I was just making sure that YOU— know that I did—” I stutter out, trying to keep my cool.

She interrupted, “Zed, I know what you mean, really.”

“It’s just that I really really like you. I have since freshman year. I don’t know why I haven’t told you. Well actually yes I do. You make me so nervous. Like everything you do makes me flustered,” I confess with speed.

I can tell my words are making her flustered. She looks down but I use two fingers to push her head back up.

“I — I like you too Zed,” She says in a shy tone.

My smile begins to get bigger, “Well you should let me take you out sometime.”

“I’d like that,”

Mind you, we were still holding hands.

end 🫶🏾

[p0guelife]

SOMEDAY

FANDOM. disney zombies

CHARACTER. addison wells x fem! zombie reader

PRONOUNS USED. she/her

SUMMARY. zombies have been allowed to attend seabrook high but are forced down into the dirty basement, away from everyone. zed necrodopolis wants to try out for the football team and talks his friend into going outside with him. turns out, it is the best decision y/n has ever made.

WORD COUNT. 1,633

GIF MADE BY. @megedonnelly

The town of Seabrook had always seemed like a tight knit community. The citizens did tend to know everyone around them as well as everything that went on. Each person in the community was different but they all shared a hatred for zombies and anyone who was not human. That’s how Y/N L/N grew up, the fear of someone harming her present in her everyday life. She dreamed for a bright and better future filled with love—but never had believed it would come true.

Sure, there were the occasional humans who were more understanding but that was pretty rare. She never thought that anyone would love her romantically due to her being a zombie but she hoped that would change once her first day at Seabrook High came around. The fact that her kind was able to attend was a huge step for them and she was proud to be one of the firsts. However, she still had that sense of fear and worry coursing through her.

The green haired girl snuck around with her best friend, Zed Necrodopolis. She was not sure how she’d let him talk her into leaving the basement with him. How had the two of them not gotten caught yet? She honestly didn’t know but didn’t want for them to. She couldn’t help but to look around at the stairs that were nearing. Y/N frowned when Zed’s taller frame stopped walking. “Is everything okay,” she asked simply.

He turned around with a smile on his lips. “I am going to try out for the football team. Do you want to come with me? I know you were interested too.”

Zed’s words were true—Y/N had wanted to be part of the football team rather than the cheer team. The zombie was just too scared to go through with it since they weren’t the most popular in the school. There were lots of people who were either afraid of them or wanted to potentially hurt them in some way. The girl thought about it before having a final answer. She shook her head, signaling that she didn’t want to follow.

Her best friend understood her worries but he tried to be more on the optimistic side of things. It’s the only attitude that would get zombies more accepted in society. “Alright, you don’t have to. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

With that, Zed made his way to the football field, which left Y/N in the hallway alone. He was excited for this so she didn’t try to stop him or anything. She soon heard the sounds of footsteps nearing so the girl turned to run in the opposite direction, not wanting to be seen. She needed somewhere to clear her mind—her internal wish finally coming true as she came across the “Zombie Safe Room.”

Y/N couldn’t help the eye roll that came but made her way into the room regardless of any negative thoughts she had about it. Did this count as a bad idea? Probably.

The green haired zombie walked around to take in her surroundings. Once she got to the other end of the room, she sat down on the ground. It wasn’t very comfortable but she thought it was better than being in that basement. “Why is it always us,” She quietly questioned herself aloud.

She allowed her thoughts to run wild inside of her brain which helped pass the time. She wasn’t sure how long she planned to be in there but she’d have to come out eventually. It wasn’t like she could hide away forever, at least not in the room she was in. Each of her thoughts were about her kind and their future. She was so deep and lost in her mind that she almost didn’t hear the sound of an alarm going off—it was the rogue zombie alarm.

Y/N sighed before standing up. “Zed, what did you do?”

She hesitantly started to move her body but stopped once she heard the door open and close again. Who was in there with her? She was curious…she just didn’t want to draw any attention to herself. The girl wasn’t really paying attention to her surroundings and it wasn’t long before she tripped over a book that was on the floor.

Her eyes widened and she heard the person gasp, it sounding like a girl.

“Who’s there,” The voice called out.

Y/N slowly stood up straight and took a deep breath. “H-Hello? I’m sorry if I scared you.” Her words held sincerity and she felt bad about tripping. Honestly, she felt like she should have looked around before doing anything.

“It’s alright, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to be in here. Hey, are you new here? I don’t recognize your voice.”

The zombie smiled to herself before giving a simple response. “Yes, it’s my first day.” The fifteen year old didn’t know what else to say if she was being honest. The girl could be a little awkward depending on the situation. It was something that her loved ones knew very well and they were used to it. Zed and Eliza were always teasing her about it, but she didn’t mind.

She hadn’t realized but her fingers had begun absentmindedly twisting through her hair. It was something that the zombie did a lot.

“I’m Addison.”

Hearing the words was comforting to Y/N as she could now place a name to the person in the room. She then moved a little closer to Addison in order to get a better look. As soon as she set her eyes on the human, her brain seemed to stop working. She thought that the blonde haired teen was beautiful, it being one of the first things that went through her head.

The green haired teen was able to gather her words. “My name is Y/N—it’s nice to meet you.”

She didn’t know where it came from but she felt a wave of confidence crash in her. Y/N’s body slowly moved closer to Addison and it wasn’t long before she was in front of her, a little ways back though. The zombie hoped it would be too dark for the human to see that she was a zombie but that was ruined once the alarm stopped and the lights soon turned on.

The sight of a zombie caused Addison’s eyes to widen and her body reacted almost immediately. She let out a shriek before she slapped Y/N’s cheek, not realizing what she was doing. It wasn’t until the zombie had grabbed her cheek in pain that the blonde’s brain understood what had happened. That was when she felt the immense guilt spark inside.

Addison frowned before apologizing, “I am so sorry—I have just always been taught that zombies are these monsters. You don’t seem like that though.”

Those words seemed to throw the zombie off at first but she couldn’t help the smile that slipped past her lips. She was interested in the human, that’s what she was sure of in that moment.

“I understand, there’s been a lot of negative things told about us but we just want to live in peace.” The fifteen year old had always wanted for that to happen; peace among the human and supernatural worlds was not a likely occurrence so her parents had kept expectations realistic.

Sometimes it felt like she was a mix of each of her friends; optimistic at times but also a believer in the realism. It was something she didn’t mind but the zombie did often enjoy Zed and his wanting to change things for all zombies. It was surely a goal to strive for!

The Wells girl nodded, confirming what Y/N had just told her. It was terrible that people were so quick to judge without knowing the person or group of people being judged. She knew what it felt like to not fit it—at least to feel like you didn’t fit in. The fact that she’d been taught to hide her hair and wear a wig, it was something she had tried getting used to but just couldn’t.

Addison went to speak but was interrupted by the safe room door opening; it was the Acey’s and her cousin Bucky. She glanced towards Y/N but didn’t have time to give her a saddened expression. The blonde did not want to stop talking to the other teen. Addi had honestly forgotten that they were at the High School for a couple of seconds. That’s how much she had enjoyed the girl’s being there with her.

The group of four walked closer to the two girls with looks of disgust present on each of their faces. It made Y/N feel like she had done something wrong even though she’d not. The feeling of hands pushing her back caused her to stumble and she noticed that it had been Bucky’s doing. The smell of hand sanitizer filled the room afterwards. It was as if the older male was afraid of getting a disease from her.

“What are you doing associating with a zombie?” Bucky’s obnoxious voice filled the silence but he didn’t give Addison any time to respond.

He snapped his fingers and the next thing the blonde knew, she was being carried away from the zombie teen by the Tracey and Stacey. The cheer captain gave Y/N one last dirty look before he and Lacey followed the others outside of the room.

A sigh was given but all the teen could think about was Addison; her smile, her eyes, her kindness. It was refreshing to the zombie girl and she could feel a familiar emotion swell inside of her—happiness. She wanted to get to know the blonde better…she had to. She had never met anyone like her before so it made sense.

Maybe they could be something, someday.

[heliads]

Disney Masterlist

Descendants

Ben Florian

Happily Ever Afters - Based on this request: “Ben x VK!Reader. Soulmate AU where the bad things you think about yourself are marked on your soulmate's skin. Reader only has 1-2 things because Ben has a good life. Ben has around half a dozen. During the lake scene they notice Ben is their soulmate and try but fail to hide it thinking he deserves better” Soulmates AU

Carlos de Vil Masterlist

Harry Hook

One Story Leads to Another - Based on this request: “AU where everyone is "chosen" to be parts of fairytales. Heroes get love ballads and villains get traditional villain songs. Reader and Harry are friends on the isle and get chosen for a story, and are both super excited because they think they'll both be villains together. So imagine their surprise when they get their first song together and it sounds an awful lot like a love song.” Imagine

So In Love That You Acted Insane - Based on this request: “Harry Hook x reader based on 'the way I loved you' by taylor swift. Childhood friends to lovers, to strangers to lovers again” Imagine

Jay

Reaching - Based on this request: “Jay x Fem! Reader. Jay coming behind reader holding her waist while reaching to get her something she was struggling to get off the top shelf” Imagine

How to Train Your Dragon

Hiccup Haddock III Masterlist

Teen Beach Movie

Butchy Masterlist

Seacat Masterlist

Z-O-M-B-I-E-S

Willa Lykensen

Family Woes - Based on this request: “Willa has a younger sister y/n. her and the wolf pack are overprotective and y/n can’t leave their sight. So y/n runs away and the pack finds her and they make up and live happily ever after” Oneshot

Wyatt Lykensen Masterlist

Zed Necrodopolis Masterlist

[blondsauduun-reads]

The Almighty Masterlist

Okay so like 99% of the fics are not mine, so I’ll credit the writer too (and you can go check their work out, because some of these are GOLDEN). And I will be linking my fav fics here because I’ve got 200 fics on here as of now (but all other fics are tagged with the character that they’re about so you can find them and read them).And they will be in chronological order of reblog, because I’m lazy, mostly. All these are character x reader/oc self-inserts.

If you read any of the fics below, make sure to like and reblog them and show the writer your support with a comment, doesn’t matter if it’s a simple I love this! Or something more elaborate and personal, it does make a difference.

Edit: since Reggie from JATP had officially a last name, the fics which I reblogged until the 9th of December will be tagged as jatp reggie, but all the ones I reblog from now on will be tagged as reggie peters.

TAGLIST HERE

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My requests are always open, but I only write with OCs (of the person who’s requested it) and X Reader. Fem!Reader, Male!Reader and Gender-Neutral/NB!Reader are all welcome. I don’t write non-con, p*dophilia or z*ophilia.

My Fics:

JATP - Reggie - We’re The Revolution That’s Been Singing In The Rain

JATP - Juke - Really Something

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EDIT: tumblr doesn’t allow more than 50 tags so the continuation of my recommendations will be linked

HERE. Or SCROLL DOWN to see the reblog directly <3

Personal Faves:

Special Mention to my bestie’s @heliads masterlist because all her work is amazing * edit. Somehow most of her links don’t work so if you want to read them just visit her masterlist linked above! She has it all perfectly organized and is great, definitely worth checking out!

MLWTWB - Alex Walter - Drunken Make Outs - @mattybstqrn

MLWTWB - Alex Walter - I’m Yours - @julieloves074

Stranger Things - Eddie Munson - she’s the devil in disguise - @letterstotheflre

Zombies - Zed Necrodopolis - Team Player - @heliads *see pink above for link

TW - Brett Talbot - The Bite - @heliads *see pink above for link

Marvel/TASM - Peter Parker - The Two Of Us - @/heliads *see pink above for link

MCU - Avengers - Kiddo - @redstarwriting

DC - Harley Quinn - Cherry Soda - @sapphicwhxre

HP - James Potter - Truth and Declare - by fave @heliads *see pink above for link

SaB - The Darkling - Time Can Heal (But This Won’t) - by bestie @heliads *see pink above for link

SaB - Jesper - Guns Blazing, Tides Rising (+part 2 +3 +4 +5) - @heliads *see pink above for link

TW - Brett Talbot - The Spring Break Lie - @heliads *see pink above for link

MCU - Bucky - First Glance - @royalwildswriting

SPN - Dean - The Hunter With The Dragon Tattoo - @watermelonlipstick

AiB - Arisu - Gaming - Part Two - @koreaweeb​ 

JATP - Juke - in his arms - @unsaidnessa

AiB - Chishiya - Marionette - @koreaweeb​ (there’s parts, this is the masterlist and this is my fav chapter and these are the reasons why)

AiB - Chishiya - Red Strings - @koreaweeb (second story to Marionette)

Hannibal - Will Graham - Lonely - @gunpowder-and-smoke​

Hannibal - Will Graham - Gradually - @darling-i-read-it​

Hannibal - Will Graham - Sparring - @darling-i-read-it​

Hannibal - Will Graham - Lost Time   - @darling-i-read-it

JATP - Luke - Shirtless - @littlemissaddict​

JATP - Reggie - About Love - @darlingsteveharrington

JATP - Reggie - Eyeliner - @julies-molina

JATP - Reggie - Little Miss Perfect - @unholyobsessions

JATP - Reggie - The Perfect Christmas - @calamitykaty

JATP - Reggie - Perfectly Entwined - @thefandomimaginesandwritingblog

JATP - Reggie - A Moment In Time - @calamitykaty

JATP – Reggie – Who Are You?  - @himoonlight (this is the first part and the other parts are here: 2 - 3 - 4

JATP – Julie Molina – My Captain - @n0wornever (there’s also a second part to this and its this )

JATP – Reggie – Second Chances  - @pythagothug (also multiple parts but are linked in the og post)

JATP – Reggie – Swedish Hologram Crush - @jaskiers-sweetkiss

JATP - Reggie – Dinner Gal  - @nooneactuallyasked (that’s part 1 there’s at least 4)

JATP – Reggie – Marker Messages - @carnationcreation

JATP - Reggie – The Four Times They Almost Got Caught (And The One Time They Were) - @carnationcreation

JATP - Reggie - Akai Ito  - @intoanothermind

JATP - Reggie – Embarrassing Encounters - @billboardofbrokendreams

JATP – Reggie – Unsteady Hands  - @sunsetgillespie (this is like, one of my most treasured fics of all time.)

Teen Wolf – Theo Raeken – Back From Hell  - @xplrreylo

JATP – Reggie – Leather Jacket  - @xplrreylo

Obey Me! – Mammon – Bangin’ Birthday  - @mammor0n

FBAWTFT – Newt Scamander – Not That Dress - @12tardis (there’s i think two more fics by this person, one with a jumper(? And one with a shirt(? Make sure to check ‘em out too!)

TO x SPN – Elijah Mikaelson – Funny-Man  - @zodiyack

TO - Klaus Mikaelson – Every King Needs An Heir  - @zodiyack (i think two parts?)

TVD – Kai Parker -  Lunchtime Sabotage - @zodiyack

TO - Kol Mikaelson – Trusting You To Trust Yourself  - @zodiyack

OBX - JJ Maybank – Study Sessions  - @ptersparkers (7 chapters of pure smut)

[whoopsyeahokay]

Alphabet Soup

NSFW alphabet challenge (request) pairing: grey!Wally Clark x fem!reader premise: the journey of a clandestine love affair at several stages because Wally Clark craves what he can't have and refuses to keep his hands to himself. and you live for it. (Janet and Wally are dating to increase their social value. meanwhile, Wally wants to get closer to her step-sister. you.) warnings: smut. AU - modern setting. non-linear narrative. romanticized toxic behavior. cheating (not on you). egregious use of the word 'baby'.

___________________________🧿

A is for the addiction Wally develops once he sets his sights on you. He's feral with it. Can't get enough of your skin under his fingertips; your shapes fitted against his; the sounds you make when he takes you apart with his teeth and his tongue and his dirty fucken mouth. So different from the public persona he sheds the second you're behind closed doors.

B is for bad ideas. Like the one that crept in behind his eyelids the instant he noticed you, cute and soft and sweet as a kitten. God, he wanted to do something about it right there. In front of the roomful of people between you, no fucks given. Wally's impulsive on a good day and reckless on a bad day, and you inspire too many fantasies that he can't not want to live out.

C is for competency, control; the single-minded intensity Wally has for every task. How he moves with a perfect combination of aggression and grace on the field, catching the ball from the QB. Touchdown. How he folds over the hood of your car and fiddles with cables and tightens bolts and fixes the rattle in the engine. How he holds his own desire at bay to bring you to the edge, over and over and over again until you sob. How he makes you come as soon as he slides home, grinds in, measured and slow, making it last as long as he wants before taking pity on you and fucking you into the mattress.

D is for Wally's dirty mouth. The things he rasps at you as he takes you apart with his fingers, his mouth, his cock. "You feel so good, baby,"—"fuck, I love the way you taste,"—"I want you to come on my tongue,"—"that's it, fuck, yeah, don't stop, baby, just like that, so good for me, such a good girl..." His fingers dig into your hips as he guides you in his lap, up-down-grind-repeat; his lips on your throat, teeth in your skin, marking you up so everyone knows you belong to someone. Belong to him.

E is for the effort Wally finds himself making to see you smile. It's stupid, he thinks, because it's not like he loves you. He's horny and putting out isn't part of the deal he and Janet made at the end of Junior year. But then he sees some jackass try to touch you, making jokes Wally doesn't find funny, drawling that he'll treat you special and make you see God as you shove and kick at him. Then you start crying and Wally sees red. Steps in. Pummels the guy's nose into his skull so hard, Wally's knuckles are scraped and bloody when he caresses your face and kisses your forehead. Promises to drive you home from the party. "Fuck that guy, baby girl, he won't touch you again."

F is for the way Wally shamelessly flirts with you. The back-and-forth you and he have when surrounded by people. Dark and husky, leaning in close with his back to Janet who's too busy with her drones to care what Wally's up to. You're fierce and funny and you flirt right back once you're comfortable enough, but Wally's had a lot of practice and knows how to get you hot with the right inflections. Eyes dark and heavy, lips brushing your ear, breath ghosting your skin while his fingers trail over your hip, "I bet you'd look better on your knees for me, baby."

G is for the God-given talent Wally has. You know the one. That one he weaponizes when he wants you to stop being stubborn, be a good girl, behave. He spreads your legs, kisses down your body, then delivers his bribe; tongue-deep inside you, making out with your pussy like a gourmet dessert de la crème. He could spend hours there if you let him, moaning when you grind your pretty pink kitty against his mouth, so close, Wally, oh God—it's all he needs to sustain himself.

H is for how Wally holds you down against the mattress; up against the wall; in his lap as he sits back on his haunches, one arm banded around your waist, the other braced behind him as he rolls his hips up, sharp thrusts and deep grinds into you, "That's it, baby, keep bouncing on daddy's cock...just like that...fuck." His big hand clasps your thigh when he flips you onto your back, pushing it up as far as your flexibility will allow, spreading you open for him, wanting to get as deep as he can, wanting to make you scream his name and forget your own.

I is for the intensity of Wally's stare as he watches you from across the room, his eyes tracking you as you laugh with your friends. He strips you in his mind, licks his lips as your skirt rides higher on your thigh when you cross your legs. A flash of pink lace, the panties Wally asked you to wear that make his jeans tight and mouth water. He cups himself through the denim, casual, sprawled on the opposite couch, gaze smoothing up your legs to your hips to your collar, fucking you with his eyes until you notice and give your friends an excuse to follow Wally to the bathroom.

J is for the jealousy Wally has to keep tightly contained in his bones whenever he sees another guy approach you. Like Jacob from Pre Cal, who flirts with you as if he doesn't know you belong to someone else. Wally is too obvious, he's aware, glaring daggers at the retinue of possible others who dare step into your space. Careful, collected, Wally has to smile like he doesn't notice them as he struts over and positions himself at your back, hands on your hips to drag you against him, ass fitted into the cradle of his pelvis. He watches in satisfaction as the dipshits take their leave with their tails between their legs.

K is for how Wally kisses you. The variety of ways. Pushy and ruthless when he's agitated; too much energy and no outlet. Or soft and slow when he just wakes up, liquid smile and heavy eyes, hand cupping your jaw like you're something precious. He nips and tugs your lips with his teeth when a teammate makes a comment just this side of not fucking funny, Gary and Wally isn't allowed to do anything about it. Sometimes, his kisses are sharp, honed, exactly what you want to feel so he can get what he wants. Always, his kisses are stolen. Behind locked doors, in dark corners, wherever he can snatch them from you without getting caught.

L is for the feeling Wally is terrified to label. The one that blooms in his chest whenever you touch him, smile at him, say his name, move, breathe, exist. Shit. It's warm and tingly and drives him to distraction because this is just a fun way to pass the time, to make things more interesting; he can't want you like that... But he does.

M is for the mess Wally makes of you when he fucks you in an alley or an empty classroom or behind the stadium. Thick cock slamming into you until you come at least twice, your panties around your ankles, his jeans at his thighs, pounding into you as he grips your hips so hard you bruise. He pulls out just enough to paint your pussy with his come, smearing it through your wetness with the tip of his cock, letting his spend and your juices trickle down your leg. And when you're forced to wipe yourself off with your ruined panties, he pockets them before you can throw them away, smug and satisfied.

N is for the fact that there's nothing Wally won't try with you, do for you, take from you. He wants everything you have to give. Is determined to taste every inch of you, from top to bottom, back to front, he doesn't care, he wants it all. He's never been this consumed by someone, thinks it'll fade the more he fucks it out of his system. It doesn't work. There's always a next time, and a next, and a next. And every time he leaves wanting more.

O is for Wally's inability to be subtle when you're around. Overt, obvious, open stares of lust when you walk into a room regardless of who else is in it. His heartbeat quickens, his breathing shallows, and he feels like a mutt in rut. All dark eyes and desirous smirks, hands grazing your body when you get close enough. He thinks he's slick, secretive, getting away with murder. But the truth is, he couldn't hide how he feels about you if someone put a gun to his head.

P is for the pleasure Wally takes in pampering you. He's a gentleman like that. What makes you happy makes him happy and, fuck, he loves to dote on you. From opening car doors to surprising you with your favorite Starbucks order. Showering you in presents he thinks you'll fill out perfectly for him. His pretty little passenger princess; a precious paper doll that he dresses up like a gift just to unwrap immediately with greedy fingers.

Q is for the question Wally wants to ask but can't. The one that makes things official. That ties him to commitment and expectation. Ignoring that you're the only place he's getting his dick wet, he's not ready for that. Until he catches himself smiling—soft and fond and affectionate—when you send a text that has nothing to do with where you want him to fuck you next. And, ah hell, maybe he does want to ask. Too bad he doesn't have the nerve.

R is for how riveted, rapturous, fucking obsessed Wally is when you ride him. No matter what he claims—"your turn to do all the work, baby"—he can't hold back, always fucks up into you, flushed, panting, hands clenching your hips and stroking your thighs and squeezing your ass. He watches your body, sweet liquid movements as you ride his cock like a goddess, and comes faster than he otherwise would. But that's fine because Wally has the refractory period of a fucking nympho.

S is for those soft, sweet, silly moments that you share. The ones he coaxes out of you during the domestic lulls between fucks. He invited you over for the weekend, Janet at some friend's lake house and Wally's parents visiting his aunt one state over. Perfect timing. And it is all hard thrusts and pinned wrists and love bites on your thighs, but then it's jokes over pancakes. Forehead kisses as he holds you in the shower. Hand-holding while you walk to the gas station for snacks, his thumb sweeping the back of your hand like he loves you. Sentimental.

T is for the toys Wally loves to tease you with. He's not afraid to introduce other means of stimulation into the mix. He'll do anything if it makes you shake apart for him; if it'll make you whimper and beg for more before you plead for him to stop, too much, Wally, it's too much, I can't as he presses the vibrator against your clit. He never listens, too enraptured by the expression of pleasure on your face, the way your body responds for him, fuck, yes, "that's it, baby, come for me again, show daddy how good you feel."

U is for how uncharacteristic, unpredictable, underutilized Wally's control has become since he started this with you. He was the image of dark and dominant behind closed doors, but, three months in, he can't keep himself in check. If he has you—against a wall, in the backseat of his car, in bed, in the shower, in. on. against—his control snaps as soon as you make a single sound of wanting pleasure. He goes feral for those noises. They're his complete undoing. And he'd surrender everything you asked for just to hear them one more time.

V is for the voice notes you and Wally swap when you and he aren't together. When he hasn't had a chance to sneak away from Janet or football practice or homework in too long and he's desperate for release. He strokes himself to the tempo of your whimpers and sighs, fucks his fist when he gets to the edge before slowing down and switching voice to video. He loves to show you what you do to him, how heavy and flushed and thirsty he is for you. "Your pussy sounds so nice and wet...now show me how you want me to fuck you, baby."

W is for every whim and want Wally indulges. Of yours. Of his. Mostly of his. Gluttonous and gourmand. You want to taste caramel on his cock? Go for it, baby. He wants to get messy with whipped cream? Okay, daddy. He wants to tease you with vibrating panties while you're trying to eat at that new place on Lasher? Okay, daddy. He wants to tie you up and spank you because you came before he said you could? Fuck, yes, daddy! ... Good girl.

X marks the spot Wally hammers into at exactly the right angle when he's feeling generous. And he always feels generous with you. He's addicted to the way you look when you come. Because he did that. He made that happen. It's empowering and euphoric and he can't get enough even though he should've by now.

Y is a word followed by 'not'. A question you ask when Wally hoists you into his arms and pins you to the wall with his hips after one of the leads in the school play asks you out. He grinds against you, cock throbbing, head angry, and reminds you who you belong to; why you can't say yes to Alex Greenberg even though it's all pot kettle black. Still, as he tears your panties at the seam and fucks you with abandon, desperate and aggressive, he makes a convincing argument.

Z is for how it ends. With her, not with you, because Wally's too far into the addiction and wouldn't last a day without getting his fix. He needs you. Wants you. Fucking shit, he loves you. So it's goodbye Queen Bee Janet and hello to her silly, sexy bombshell of a step-sister. Wally has no regrets, his hand on your ass as he walks you into Prom, fist-bumping his friends and saluting the principal. He loses his crown and doesn't care at all, too wrapped up in you to notice. Hands on your hips, brow against his, fitted perfectly against him like a puzzle piece.

🧿___________________________

below are the links to the complete collection of Alphabet Soup. you can also find all related content HERE as well as reformatted chapters on AO3.

~ 🩵👻

Alphabetical Masterlist:

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Linear Masterlist:

B T K A F P V R M S D C I J H W N O E X G L Y U Q Z

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Moon

summary: as you had gotten ready for the Homecoming dance, you'd finally confronted your sister about her creepy, Ken Doll husband. meanwhile, Xavier had continued to notice differences in his dad's personality while Claire had probed for answers.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

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

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER MOON pt.4

At home, you were curled up on your desk chair, Aurora behind you wielding her hair curler, bobby pins poking out from the corner of her mouth as she styled your hair for the Homecoming dance. Your dress hung on the back of your door. Emerald green satin and spaghetti straps, structured bodice and A-line skirt. It had pockets.

Aside from being your personal hair stylist and makeup artist, Aurora had also opened her closet to you and lent you a pair of tall, chunky heels that matched the color of your dress. You weren't much of a heels girlie, but Wally had height and you wanted to kiss him without folding him in half.

Unbeknownst to him (and everyone except Xavier who'd given you the keys to his truck), you had a plan. A plan that involved a blow up mattress and a pile of blankets to cover your body in the bed of the truck while your ghost made merry with Wally unhindered.

Was it risky? Yeah. Was it worth it? Hell yes. You'd make appearances here and there as your living self—you had to, the band was scheduled to kick off the party—but, ultimately, you wanted spend a stress-free night in the arms of your very sexy date.

"You feel pink, little sister," Aurora commented around the bobby pins. "You excited to see Simon?"

Right. That.

Simon had agreed to meet you at the house and pose as your date. It had been a semi-awkward conversation throughout which he and Maddie had teased you. There'd been an item of negotiation. Namely, you'd had to take a folded up note from Maddie and pass it to Simon for a reason neither disclosed. But, in the end, Simon had been happy to be of service.

Nicole would drop him off in—you glanced at the boysenberry Kit-Kat Klock above your desk—twenty-five minutes; he'd say hi to Andrew, Aurora, and Ginny, act a little lovestruck, and then you'd drive to the school in Xavier's truck.

Everything was working out perfectly.

Except the matter of Aurora's mug of tea sat on your desk, the nasty stench doing its level best to overtake your perfume. It wasn't as bad as being trapped in the confines of the car with it, your window open and your room much bigger. Still nauseating, though. You stared at her mug and deliberated whether or not to ask Aurora about Dave who was now, in your mind, suspicious as hell and who also happened to enjoy a cup of tea—that may or may not be related to an evil cult—with his breakfast.

Seeing Dave at the school last night, sneaking around the basement like he was on a mission, had made you uneasy and you realized you didn't know a damn thing about the guy who slept two stories below you.

Glancing at Aurora in the mirror, you ventured, "Rory...how'd you meet Dave?"

She seemed ecstatic that you'd finally asked, plucked the pins out of her mouth and giddily said, "Feeling romantic, huh? And you kept denying it when I called Simon your boyfriend!" After she'd seen you on the swings with him that night he'd found the money in Mr. Anderson's classroom.

You tried not to cringe, "Sure, let's go with that."

"Well," Aurora began, twirling a curl into a roll atop your head and pinning it in place, "We met when I was in New York. Obvi. I actually met him through Carol—" Xavier's mom "—when she was there for a realtor's mixer. They worked together."

"Dave's from Split River?" You were surprised. He didn't sound like he was from Wisconsin. He had a very proper way of speaking. Controlled. Crisp. More Big City Society than Small Town Midwestern. Perhaps it was something he'd learned to do in order to charm prospective investors.

"Born and raised," Aurora confirmed. "Anyway, I went to meet Carol for lunch and Dave tagged along. The rest is history."

"That's it? You ate lunch together?"

Aurora dismissed your cynicism with an eye roll, "No. We stayed in touch after he left. You know, texting and Skype. And then he transferred to the NYC branch of his company. We moved in together after two months," She sighed as if reliving that era of their relationship.

"If you know, you know." You muttered, not sure that Aurora had known, however that wasn't for you to say.

"Exactly."

Staring at the tea again, "And then you brainwashed him into drinking this stuff?" You indicated to her mug.

Again, Aurora rolled her eyes, "You know, this superiority act is getting old. You drank it, too."

"And then I found my brain and stopped."

Answering your question, "No," Aurora said, "Dave was as bad as you're suddenly being about it." Aurora pondered, "But then work stress caught up to him—the pace in New York is no joke—and I suggested he try it." Her reflection smiled at you. "I mean, it helped mom, it helps me, it helped you until you got all holier-than-thou."

"Helped me how?" You frowned at her through the mirror, "I wasn't stressed." Which further made you wonder why you'd been drinking the stuff for so long.

"Oh, come on, you remember. After—." Aurora abruptly stopped.

After Aiden, she didn't say, her face telling you that she was uncomfortable bringing up the memory since you'd always blamed yourself for his death. Because she knew what you'd thought had been the truth; that he'd fallen and busted his head open. Not what'd actually happened.

"Well," You cleared your throat, "I guess I'm over it now, huh?"

"Guess so," Aurora murmured, attention entirely on the curl she was shaping in your hair.

There was a brief lull before either you spoke again. Prodding, "And Nanna still drinks it because...?"

"It helps her focus her divination. The way she puts it, she has too much time to herself these days to think."

The more you learned about your family's motives to drink the tea, the more you realized everyone was using it as a mild sedative. Which, okay, it probably was, but usually the natural stuff didn't work that well.

Though certainly not as strong as what you'd smelt on the sacrifices in the cavern, Wally had claimed that he'd smelled exactly what the tea smelt like on younger-you's breath on the other side of the farmhouse door. It could be as he'd suggested, that your family's tea was missing a key ingredient, but was otherwise identical.

Maddie had given you the list of ingredients, tucked between the pages of your Math notes, and you were more determined than ever to compare what was in your family's tea to what Wally remembered seeing on the shelf in the farmhouse cellar.

"Do you know what's in it?" You asked Aurora who'd relaxed since bringing up Aiden.

She hummed and then, "Sort of. We started to carry most of the floral ingredients at the shop. But some of them I have to get from the holistic place on Randolph." A main drag in one of three upper-middle-class boroughs in Split River.

"So, we make it ourselves now?"

"Oh, yeah, we've been making it for years. The place that used to sell it went out of business a few years ago."

Should've taken that as a sign, you mused.

"I can feel your sassy thoughts, you know." Aurora reminded you, giving you a flat look through the mirror.

You grinned, "I'm not sorry."

"I know you aren't."

There was one more thing you wanted to know, something that had been nagging at you since last night. There was a chance Aurora would rat you out to your great-aunt or mother, but, at that point, it didn't matter. You were seriously unnerved by Dave's behavior. By the fact that he'd driven around town supposedly looking for you by his lonesome, without Aurora...?

And then last night, Dave who never attended a single sports event ever suddenly appears in the school after the Homecoming game wearing Andrew's clothes? Nah, the guy was up to something. Maybe not cult-related something, but something.

"Rory?"

"Yeah?"

"Did Dave mention anything about last week?"

You watched her carefully through the mirror, the genuine confusion on her face as she thought about it.

"No? Why? What happened last week?"

Here goes nothing, you swallowed, took a deep breath and then, "I snuck out last Thursday and Dave found me. He brought me back home... He didn't mention it?"

Shock-horror flit across her face in stages as she processed what you'd said. She was so stunned that she almost burned your hair, the curler on for too long.

"You did what?"

"I'll take that as a no." You said, turning to face her properly. "Oh, like you didn't do the same thing when you were a teenager."

Aurora gaped, "I absolutely didn't, are you crazy!? This is Split River! Your friend is literally missing and you thought it was a good idea to just," She gestured widely, face puffed up in frustration, "wander around the town after dark!? Are you dumb!?"

Right. Normal people worried about things like kidnappers and murderers. Normal people didn't help their friend's ghost investigate the circumstances surrounding them being stuck in an In Between. Because normal people, even if they could see ghosts, didn't put themselves in danger when there were people trained to do that sort of thing.

Oops.

Placating, "Nothing happened. I'm not drinking or having sex or doing drugs. I was hanging out with friends." Kind of. "Can we please talk about how Dave snuck out to come find me and never told you about it?"

Aurora went through the motions of unplugging and setting aside the hair curler, tidying up the unused bobby pins, and uncapping the hairspray before she said anything. Either she couldn't process what you'd said or she needed the time to come up with an excuse.

"He probably heard you," She started, "And he might've woken me up to tell me, I just don't remember. You know how I am, I'm like a zombie when my eight hours are interrupted."

"Strange how you used to wake up when I breathed too loud in my room across the hall with the door closed..." You quipped and gave her a hard look.

Aurora scoffed, "You get to your thirties and tell me if you're the same as you were when you were younger."

"Where's Dave now?" Because he hadn't come home at half-past six as was his routine.

Visibly uncomfortable with receiving the third degree, Aurora shot back, "At the office; he has a meeting with clients on the West Coast. What the fuck? You think he's cheating on me or something?"

You hadn't realized that that could explain all of Dave's weird behavior. Jesus, you were so far down the rabbit hole, the average slimy husband angle hadn't even blipped on your radar and yet it made the most sense.

Ashamed, you tried to salvage what you could of the conversation, "I mean, I don't think so. But, I think he's lying to you about something. He was at the school after the game last night. Did you know that?"

Aurora didn't answer, her eyes darting about, "Maybe he went to pick you up?"

"I didn't ask him to. You obviously didn't ask him to. And when has he ever done anything for me from the kindness of his heart?"

"Why are you being such a bitch!? Dave is a good man. I wouldn't have married him if he wasn't."

You got to your feet, gesturing to emphasize your point, "Good or not, Rory, he was sneaking around the basement at school last night."

"You followed him?" Aurora frowned at you, "Did you see anything?"

You chewed your lip before admitting, "I lost him. Which is why I'm asking you." God, was Dave cheating on Aurora? With someone who liked high school football and basement trysts?

Aurora stepped back until her legs hit your bed. She sat down, pushed her hair out of her face and mulled over what you'd exposed about her husband. You joined her, sat close, studying her expression as she struggled to piece together a plausible explanation that didn't make Dave the bad guy.

"I'll ask him," She finally said.

"You think he'll tell you the truth?"

She shrugged, "If he doesn't, I'll know." According to Aurora, lies were painted in shades of grey and smelt like burnt rubber.

Aurora assisted you through everything else; fixed your hair, perfected your makeup, zipped up your dress. Throughout it all, she remained quiet, obviously thrown into internal hysteria, mentally seeking out what red flags she'd missed from Dave in the past.

You felt horrible. Sort of. Dave wasn't Mr. Anderson who'd been desperate to get out from under a mountain of debt that wasn't his. He hadn't hurt anyone; had actually helped raise that money and had provided new uniforms as promised.

On the other hand, Dave was being dishonest with Aurora. Sneaking around and acting like finding you behind the school near the woods was totally legit.

"Rory." You murmured, "I'm really sorry for bringing it up."

Aurora smiled at you, small and sad, and pulled you into a hug, "I'm glad you told me," She said. "I'd rather know now than be taken by surprise later."

A knock at the door and Andrew peeked in, "How's she lookin'?" He asked Aurora and then entered the room fully. His eyes widened and a grin spread across his face, "Wow. You fix up nice, beans."

You chuckled at the old nickname, "Thanks, Drew," and tried to ignore how his eyes misted and his smile wobbled.

It was sweet, and Andrew basically filled in all the gaps your father left behind whenever he was deployed or stationed away from home. But you'd never been good at handling that kind of emotional attention; preferred jokes and laughter to happy tears.

Andrew cleared his throat, glanced away, and said, "You're date's here, by the way. Ginny's got her paws all over him, so you might wanna hurry up."

"We'll be down in a sec," You grinned back, "Just make sure Ginny doesn't eat him, please."

"Can do," Andrew saluted and stepped back out of your room to rescue Simon from your great-aunt's clutches.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Xavier listened at the banister as Claire fished for clues. He wasn't convinced she'd hurt Maddie, but she was definitely hiding something. Something worth whatever amount that cheque she'd handed Xavier's dad had on it.

He watched the tendrils stretch between him and his dad (blue), him and Claire (a swirl of green and red). His dad's blue was steady tonight, unlike earlier when Xavier had come home with the suit bag and his dad's credit card. No words had been exchanged, just that annoyed stare his dad sometimes fixed him with, like he couldn't wait until Xavier left for college. And that black thread suspended between them, linking them.

"This year has been...unreal. First Maddie, and then Mr. Anderson."

"Yeah...it's nothing you kids need to worry about. The police are on it." His dad told Claire, sounding human for the first time in weeks. Sure, it could all be a show for Claire who had the money to fund his dad's campaign, but Xavier remembered when his dad used to speak to him like that.

Austin Baxter was being real. Himself. Not whatever made that thread between he and Xavier black as pitch.

Claire responded, "It's hard not to wonder, though, if we'll ever have any answers." A pause. "Are there any updates?"

Xavier continued to eavesdrop as Claire prodded about Mr. Anderson, clearly desperate to find out if Mr. Anderson had said anything about her to the police.

Xavier knew Mr. Anderson hadn't, had seen it in the file his dad had brought home one night to finalize (along with a few others, including Maddie's). That was even stranger, now that Xavier was thinking about it. His dad had been meticulous about following every letter of the law; had taken his responsibilities very seriously.

The state specified that no officer, not even the Sheriff, was allowed take home case files unless authorized by a court under tightly controlled conditions. Yet, Xavier's poking around had yielded results twice. First, unmarked evidence in Christopher Nears' case, and then earlier that week, case files that should've stayed at the station.

Either his dad was that narcissistic to believe he could do whatever he wanted, or he was beginning to slip.

"—be sure to tell your folks we're very thankful they're cooperating while we continue to search the abandoned property."

Xavier pushed away from the banister and descended the stairs, eager to get moving. He wanted to get answers as much as Maddie and Simon, but he couldn't do that if they stuck around trying to coax information from his dad.

Claire complimented how well he cleaned up, and he even managed to get what constituted as praise from his dad. Xavier ushered Claire to the door, shooting one last look over his shoulder at his dad, and watched in mild hope as the blue thread between them shimmered a resolute and brightening blue.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Simon rang the doorbell, shifting from foot to foot. He was nervous. He'd never been to your house, had never met your family—waving to your sister from a swing set while she yelled at you through an open window didn't count—and he wasn't sure what to expect.

To be clear, he wasn't sure what to expect from a family of, "we're not witches, Simon, stop."

In that case, a family of magical people whose abilities ranged from seeing ghosts to acute empathy to psychometry to, what the hell was it? Oh yeah, full-fledged divination.

You'd rattled off who would and wouldn't be there; your mom had been called last minute by a friend to help look after an elderly relative; your Nanna was minding the family flower shop on behalf of your sister who was home to assist you with your nails or lashes or whatever.

If Simon recalled correctly, that meant he had to be wary of your sister the empath, your uncle the psychometrist, and your great-aunt the astral Traveler.

He could do this.

In the last two weeks, he'd been arrested, questioned by police, turned the tables and had his teacher arrested, manifested clairvoyance, embarked on a quest to dismantle a death cult that may or may not have resurfaced, and passed a history test on no hours of sleep. If he could overcome all that, this would be a cake walk.

When the door opened, he was greeted by an elderly woman who he identified easily to be your great-aunt. And, wow, she knew how to make an impression. Beautiful, looked younger than her age with rose gold hair and bright blue eyes, tiny frame swimming in satin. She smiled warmly at him, levering him into a hug before she ushered him inside.

Appearing from the kitchen, wiping his hands with a dishtowel, was your uncle, Andrew. He shared a lot of your great-aunt's features. Same eyes, same impish smile, but he was much taller and broader. He stepped up to Simon and held out his hand for Simon to shake.

"I'll go get the girls," He said after introducing himself, laughing when he added, "And whatever Ginny says, ignore it."

Simon chuckled in response and nodded. "Sounds good," He said, nervous, and followed your great-aunt into the living room after she flapped a beckoning hand at him.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Simon," She said, her voice rich and deep for a woman, at odds with her pixie-like appearance.

Politely, "It's nice to meet you, too, ma'am," he replied.

She gestured for him to take a seat at the corner of the couch as she fell into an armchair beside him; legs crossed, eyes openly grazing up from his shoes to his hair. He felt his ears burn when she at last settled her gaze on his.

"Call me Ginny," She offered, "A friend of hers is family here."

Simon smiled, "Thanks."

He liked her. There was something magnetic about her. Fun. Interesting. He wanted to sit with her over coffee and listen to her tell him her life story. Without knowing anything about Ginny, he could tell she'd lived an exciting life, probably filled with African safaris and cruises around the Mediterranean. She just had that aura about her.

As they chatted—Ginny posing the usual small-talk questions and Simon dutifully answering—he noticed the pendant on one of her necklaces. He wouldn't have been drawn to it had it not stood out against the long strings of bejeweled costume jewelry. In comparison, it was plain, understated, a very simple piece that didn't match the rest of Ginny's aesthetic.

A round piece of silver with a design that reminded Simon of the sun.

She must've noticed him staring because, "It's lovely isn't it?" she said, leaning forward and holding the pendant away from her collar for Simon to see. "An heirloom. Once part of a pair." At Simon's questioning gaze, she elaborated, "Earrings. But one of them wandered off somewhere along the line, so I strung this one on a chain. I simply couldn't part with it."

"It's beautiful." Simon said as he admired the pendant. "Does the symbol mean anything?"

Ginny nodded, "Actually, it does. The compass is to keep your soul on the right path, the sun beneath it represents clarity in this case, to ensure your vessel remains clean. And the flower," She used her Victory Red pinky nail to indicate, "is another layer of purity." She chuckled, "Essentially, it's to ward off any bad juju that tries to enter your body or mind."

Simon listened closely, curious if she wore it because she was a Traveler, like you'd told him. Her soul could walk out of her body on a whim, which, to Simon, suggested something else could walk in. Including but not limited to bad juju as she'd put it. Was that possible? He really wanted to ask, but knew he couldn't.

The click-clack of heels on hardwood turned Simon's attention to the hall. He stood, smoothed his suit jacket and stepped around the couch, eyes widening and jaw going slack when he saw you descending the stairs.

"Wow."

You looked...gorgeous. Stunning. He'd never seen you done up like that before, makeup that enhanced your features rather than made a statement, hair in loose curls that fell down your back, a cocktail dress in a color that complimented your skin. He was, to put it lightly, gobsmacked.

Wally was a lucky guy, Simon thought.

Your sister giggled and whispered something to you that sounded like, "He's pink, too," which...did that make sense? Because he didn't understand. He'd have to ask you when you and he were safely alone in the truck.

He saw Andrew roll his eyes, "Not now," and knock your sister's shoulder as he passed her to stand with Ginny.

Behind him, Ginny snickered to Simon, "We want her back in the same condition she's leaving in," to which Simon blushed to his roots.

Knowing something you didn't, he could only stammer, "I—yeah. I promise. No funny business."

Your sister seemed to disagree, squinting at him before she whispered to you again, this time telling you, "He's red now," then louder, for everyone to hear but directed at Simon, "Remember to keep room between you for the holy spirit."

Oh god. Simon's collar suddenly felt too tight. Andrew barked a laugh. Ginny cackled and patted his shoulder, assuring him not to listen to your sister as she winked salaciously.

When he turned back to you, you had your hands over your face, grumbling, "I hate you so much," to your sister and Ginny.

Grinning, Simon held out his arm to you, a charming, "Milady," as you banded your arm through his.

"Milord," You grinned back, "Let's go before they make us take pictures."

He agreed, wishing Andrew, your sister, and Ginny goodnight, and escorting you to the door. You grabbed a peacoat and a guitar case on your way out, waved to your family and bid them goodbye, groaning like the teenage girl you were at whatever, "You'd better still smell like jasmine tomorrow!" meant.

💀___________________________

PART THREE - PART FIVE

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Moon

THIS IS THE SECOND INSTALLMENT OF A 2 PART SERIES to understand the plot, you MUST read October Sun.

summary: in the aftermath of the theater of terrors, there'd been a single, short moment of silence when everyone had been too stunned to speak. too frightened confused sick horrified to say a word. and then everything had descended into chaos.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

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

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER MOON prologue

There was a single, short moment of silence before the commotion began. A moment of confusion and sick loss that weaved its way between and through everyone until it thinned into a desperate need to understand what they'd all just been through.

"He was so alone," Charley whimpered, pitiful, arms curled around his middle as he tried to forget the little boy who'd needed someone to stay with him so badly, "I didn't want to leave him..."

Rhonda scowled, "How could she not know!?" Spitting her anger through gritted teeth, gesturing widely as if the air was too close and she had to push it away.

Wally was frantic, hands moving as fast as his mouth, "I saw Maddie's dad—"

"What?" Weakly, tortured, "Where? Why did you get to see him and I didn't?" And Maddie began to tremble because she'd always known her father had died but she and her mother had never been given more than a feeble, 'it was an accident'.

An accident that had rendered her father unrecognizable and dead. An accident that had driven her mother to the bottom of too many bottles and away from her daughter. An accident Maddie had never believed because she'd known, she'd KNOWN, it was a lie. But rather than see him, she'd been stuck in a hospital room with a twelve-year-old girl and her great-aunt, forced to watch as Then Deputy Baxter held his hat to his chest and declared a little boy dead.

It wasn't fair and Wally held her even as he explained, "Janet was there," to Charley and Rhonda who stared at him in disbelief.

They all talked over each other, "What was she doing there?" - "Do you think Mr. Martin knows?" - "Maybe that's why he helped her move on; he knew she was dangerous!" - "He can't know, if he did, he wouldn't have let her near us."

Meanwhile, Ajay was urgently scouring the rows, under every seat, down every aisle, calling out Mina's name before disappearing at a run to the back of the stage, into the rafters, "Mina, Mina, Mina!" Over and over, heart in his throat, where was she, she never left the theater, where was she!?

But all of that faded into the background when you heard a weak, strained voice ask, "Why didn't you tell me?"

On your knees on the stage, staring blankly at the spot the farmhouse door had been, you tried to make your mouth work. There was no evidence of the supernatural wind; no smashed stage light, no cuts on your skin, nothing. Slowly, you panned to Xavier who stepped toward you, his face pained, his brow creased and eyes filled with so much sorrow it felt like a kick to the heart.

Meekly in return, you confessed, "That's not how it happened," as if that solved the problem. A band-aid over a bullet wound, as true as it was.

No, you'd snuck into one of those old heritage properties near the elementary school to get out of the rain. Aiden had wandered off when you'd tried calling Nanna to pick you up. He'd fallen down the steep steps and hit his head so hard on the stone wall that he'd bled out at the bottom of the stairs. You'd watched his spirit rise after tumbling down yourself.

It was in your statement to Xavier's father. That was how you'd remembered it, in vague flashes, for the past six years.

"I didn't......it wasn't like that." You repeated, forcing the words out around the lump in your throat. "I didn't remember..."

You couldn't even be sure Xavier was talking about Aiden and not about connectedness and how you didn't seem at all confused about a door that had appeared from the ether like a ghost. His face told you everything, though. It was indeed about Aiden.

Xavier collapsed to his knees in front of you, devastated, "How? How do you not remember that? How could you not tell me?" It wasn't harsh or mean or loud though part of you wished it was. It was a quiet expression of betrayal. And then, a breathy whisper, "He was my brother, too."

Maybe not biologically, but emotionally, spiritually, it was true. Xavier had held Aiden as a baby; had held Aiden's hand on his first day of kindergarten; had taught him big words to impress his teachers, and how to kick a ball into the net, and how to skateboard like a big boy, and how to—you shook, eyes welling with tears as Xavier continued to look at you like you'd just shattered his whole world.

"Xavier," Maddie said softly, her own voice rattled with grief, "It's not her fault."

Xavier exhaled deeply as he turned his head to Maddie, pressed his lips together, suddenly appearing anxious beneath the pain, "When did you get back?"

Maddie shot you a helpless look and you took the responsibility from her, saying in a wet tone, "She didn't, Zav."

Xavier was confused for a long minute, staring at Maddie as if he could piece her together like a puzzle.

He blinked several times, looked—really looked—at the students he didn't recognize, noticing their outdated apparel, their pale complexions, their...not-really-thereness. All at once, it struck him, a knife-twisting epiphany while your voice in his mind, carefree and purposefully teasing, told him and Mathilda about your hot football player ghost. He gazed at Wally Clark, the number 57 on the sleeve of his varsity jacket, and then swallowed.

Xavier's eyes closed almost as soon as his gaze returned to rest on you; his lips pressed together so you wouldn't see how the bottom one wobbled. His shoulders tensed, and, when he opened his eyes again, he couldn't stomach to look at you. In that moment, he understood like common sense exactly where he stood with you and it hurt.

"Zav," You whimpered, reaching for him, but he shifted away, shaking his head. "Zav, please," You attempted, shuffling forward on your knees. He stood, stumbled back a step and then grabbed his head, breathing heavy.

"No." He said, then louder, "No, no way." You clambered to your feet as he jumped off the stage. "It's too much," He said and you could tell he was fighting tears, "I can't do this."

He marched to the top of the center aisle as you called after him, pausing only for a second to glance back at you over his shoulder, his expression utterly destroyed, and then he opened the door and left.

You made to run after him, but Wally grabbed you, pulled you to his chest.

"Let him go, baby," he said, calm and soft, and when you struggled, wailing, folding forward, and falling to the ground, he went with you and cradled you in his arms. Let you cry out everything that had happened; with Aiden, with the farmhouse cellar, with the cult, and Amelia and Anabelle. All of it. Wally held you through it, shushing you, holding your head to his chest, rocking you, kissing your hair between variations of, "I've got you, baby, I'm right here."

As you began to recover, thick sniffs and small whimpers, you burrowed into the safety and comfort of Wally's arms, not wanting the others to see you like that. Unfortunately, you didn't have a choice. Your phone vibrated in the back pocket of your skirt. Wally shamelessly retrieved it, handing it off to Maddie without a word.

"Simon's here." She said, as somber and morose as the rest of them.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Nicole had been a saint. Picked Xavier up even though he'd been late, had allowed him to sit stoically in the car the whole drive. Until something that'd been nagging at her had finally prompted her to ask how he'd known about Claire's hot-and-cold behavior.

He'd been too...fuck, defeated? Hollowed out? Numb, really, to care that Nicole had deduced in his silence that he'd cheated on Maddie with Claire. Xavier had barely tried to defend himself. Stopped talking after a few words when it'd hit him that it hadn't fucking mattered.

After everything that'd happened in the theater, the shit he'd seen. The murder and then—Jesus Christ—the cover up, Xavier hadn't been able to muster a single fuck to give.

He was still disturbed by his dad's reaction to the evidence Xavier had found in his home office. A bagged and bloodied patch, black thread stitched into khaki spelling Maddie's last name. He thought he was going to be sick, lowering the window and sticking his head out for some air.

Nicole had ordered him to stay in the car while she searched the crowd at Horror Con for Maddie. Who she wouldn't find because Maddie was a ghost at school which meant she was dead. How long had you known?

He didn't want to talk about it with you. Didn't think he was capable of looking you in the eye right now after everything he'd experienced and learned. The sheer extent of the shit you'd been keeping from him for years. Who even were you? What even were you? A witch? A medium?

Did it matter? His mind asked and Xavier clenched his eyes shut, fists balled in his lap. Whatever you were, you'd hidden it from Xavier for over a decade of friendship. And it fucking hurt. You were the only person in the world he could trust, who he'd believed would be there for him through anything and everything.

Through his dad's profound betrayal... How was he going to get through that? He'd seen it with his own eyes. Austin Baxter, Deputy favored to take over Sheriff Stallow, forcing a dead and mangled Christopher Nears behind the wheel of his car and rolling it off the cliff into the quarry for pit workers to find the following morning.

Xavier's stomach rolled.

His dad hadn't said it, but the timing made sense. Xavier's mom probably found out and that's why she'd left. Why she'd abandoned Xavier, he didn't know, but that barely stung in the face of everything else.

What had caused Xavier the most distress during the encounter with his dad, though, had been the weird, flickering threads of light that kept appearing in the air. Faint and glowing. First blue then spun black, then blue again. Strung between Xavier and his dad as if it connected them.

He'd seen one between he and Nicole when he'd climbed into her car. A soft yellow that hadn't seemed established, so dim and loose. He'd nearly asked her to take him to the hospital for an MRI, but decided against it. Some instinct deep in his soul told him it wasn't a tumor. That it was so much more than anything that could be explained by medical science.

Xavier sat in the car for almost twenty minutes, his brain a maelstrom of anger and grief and hurt and anger again. He'd seen Maddie. She'd been there. Probably knew about Claire. Probably hated Xavier's guts. God, she'd probably told you about it, too, and now you didn't care if Xavier was upset or not because you hated him as much as he hated himself for what he'd done.

Unable to marinate in his thoughts any longer, Xavier ditched the car and charged into the crowd to find Nicole. He felt horrible that she was worrying herself sick trying to find someone who wouldn't be found. He knew she hated the horror stuff as much as Xavier did, yet she was in there, doing it scared because she loved Maddie more than Xavier had.

He grabbed a Pennywise mask off some rando on a bench and donned it, tried to blend in. He didn't want anyone from school to see him, they still wanted his blood for whatever had happened to Maddie. Murderer, they called him behind his back.

Maybe he was. God. Was it...his fault that Maddie was dead?

Those fucking threads kept blinking into and fading from existence, linking strangers to each other. Webs of relationships that made Xavier dizzy trying to follow them. He felt his chest tug and glanced down, saw that thin, pale yellow thread pulling ahead.

Taking a leap, he followed it until he saw Nicole.

He reached out, she shoved him away, terrified. Xavier ripped the mask off, having forgotten about it in his amazement over the delicate thread connecting him to Nicole.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" She demanded, visibly shaken.

"Looking for you." He said, stepping an inch closer, worried at how close to a mental breakdown Nicole seemed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," She croaked between hard breaths.

Xavier gave her a concerned look, "Are you sure? Because you look a little shook up."

She didn't appreciate that, "Just go back to the car, Xavier."

It unraveled from there. The next thing he knew, she was yelling at him, accusing him of failing Maddie—"Yeah, it definitely has the whole 'someone who's supposed to look after you fails' thing going for it," you'd said—and he cast his gaze to the ground, ashamed and overwhelmed with guilt.

"She's nowhere, she's gone!" Nicole cried, movements frantic.

"I know that!" Xavier said before he realized. He did know. He knew where Maddie was—her ghost, at least—and he knew Nicole wouldn't find her at Horror Con, and he knew he was probably to blame for all of it. But...he still couldn't tell her everything. Fuck, she'd think he was crazy, anyway, so he exposed different vulnerable flesh and said, "You're right. I failed her."

It was an appeal for forgiveness.

"And if I could take back what I did, I—" He thought of Aiden. He thought of you. He thought of Claire and Maddie. "But I can't. I have to live with that." He looked Nicole in the eye, desperate, "So, if it makes you feel better to hit me, then please, swing away."

Xavier couldn't stop thinking about Aiden's little body being put in that ambulance. Blue lips and alabaster skin. Dead. And all the blood that'd covered Christopher Nears' body, all the blood that had gushed out of the hole that had once been his face, shoved behind the wheel of his car by Xavier's dad.

His voice cracked, "I just... I'm sorry."

Nicole turned, didn't say a word, and didn't protest when Xavier quietly followed her from person to person, showing them Maddie's photo until she burned herself out.

Sitting together at a picnic table, Nicole said, "I really thought she would be here."

"I know." Xavier sighed, eyes down, regretful and biting his tongue.

A long, tense silence and then Nicole croaked, "I think Simon might be right.

She didn't need to elaborate. Xavier knew that Simon thought Maddie was dead. Nicole had ranted to Xavier about it yesterday when they'd finalized plans to search Horror Con for Maddie. Before he knew the truth.

He didn't have it in him to break her heart and tell her that, yeah, Simon was right. Instead, he stared at that thin, warming thread, the color deepening into a soft orange from his chest to Nicole's. Xavier placed his hand palm-up in the space between him and Nicole on the bench, staring blankly ahead as he tried to suppress what he'd seen in the theater. How he felt about it. How he felt about you.

Moments later, without a word, Nicole placed her hand in his.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Derek Anderson hated this fucking town. He hated what he'd had to resort to. The man he'd become. The cards he'd been dealt. He was done.

He'd used his one phone call to beg forgiveness and ask for help from the one person he could trust with everything. Your Uncle Andrew. Derek's best friend since their early rowdy college days. Andrew was two years older than Derek, but had started college a year after. Had taken time off to backpack across South America and live like a nomad.

The guy was nuts, a free spirit, and exactly who Derek needed right then. He stared ahead, at the mirror he knew was a window, the deputies behind it discussing his fate. The state appointed attorney had been of little help, but had assured Derek would be released on bail within 24 hours.

Fuck.

What was he going to do now?

His whole career had been blown up in a matter of seconds because Simon Elroy was convinced Derek had murdered Madison Nears. He should've seen it coming. Had known the kid was hellbent on finding Maddie, and had already discovered the cash Derek had been hiding in his classroom.

Yeah, fine, he should've been more careful, but how the hell had Simon found it in the first place?

Derek dropped his head into his hands and tried to breathe slowly. A suggestion from Ms. Chung who'd been at the staff meeting when Simon had monologued Derek's guilt. She'd also been the only person to show him any sympathy, his other colleagues immediately putting distance between themselves and him, the new Split River scandal.

"Don't worry," Ms. Chung said, rubbing his back as Derek waited for the cops in Principal Hartman's office. "Everything will work itself out. Just be honest."

"That entails telling them that I did actually commit fraud." Derek chuckled, dry and flat, his world crumbling. "God, Meredith, what am I going to do?"

She didn't tell him. Didn't have any advice. Just another placating, "It'll be okay," that did nothing apart from make him more anxious.

The door to the interrogation room opened and Sheriff Baxter entered. Derek huffed a humorless snort, shaking his head in disbelief. A boy who'd been picked last in gym class had become the town's protector. A boy Derek had been guilty of bullying in elementary school, so the Sheriff got him back years later by marrying the woman Derek had seen a future with.

He'd never felt more fucked in his life.

"Your friend called the front desk," Sheriff Baxter began, taking the seat across from Derek. "He's arranged for his sister to stay with the old man tonight. Is there anyone else who could take him on, long term, you think?"

Derek shook his head. "No. No one. My aunt died a year ago, I don't have any siblings. He'd be left to the state."

"Alright," Sheriff Baxter said after a long lull, "Look, we're going to keep you for the next twenty-four hours while we investigate the accusation Simon Elroy brought against you." He paused, studied Derek as if waiting to see if he'd spit excuses or threats. Something vile that Derek wasn't feeling. When he didn't, Sheriff Baxter continued, "After that, there'll be a bail hearing and, if you post it, you'll be closely monitored pending a trial. Unless the school is virtuous enough to drop the charges."

Derek nodded, eyes on the metal table, heaving a sigh that made his bones ache. "Got it."

"Okay, then, let's get you settled in for the night." Sheriff Baxter stood, came around the table and hooked his hand under Derek's arm to pull him to his feet.

He was escorted to one of the private holding cells, uncuffed and locked in. A lumpy cot and thin, itchy blanket, flat pillow, and moonlight. He hated everything in that moment, but most of all himself.

Why had he done it? It hadn't even occurred to him to try something so misguided until he'd heard a story about how easy it'd been to get away with. You can do anything on a computer these days, and, why shouldn't I have trusted them, they were so nice!

That woman who'd known his dad back in the day and still visited every weekend. Darcy Behr. She'd been nattering his father's ear off over iced tea when she'd let slip about a scam she'd been naïve enough to fall for.

He shouldn't have done it. He shouldn't have glommed onto that of all things. He could've figured something out. Sold the furniture, his mother's jewelry, the fucking house. Instead, he'd resorted to fraud because it'd seemed so much simpler and less painful than parting with memories.

Derek sat on the cot and stared at the wall. If it weren't for his father, he would've gotten the fuck out of Split River years ago when he'd had the chance.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

You and Simon had just retrieved Mr. Anderson's phone from the top of the lockers. It had been a joint effort, Simon lifting you, your ass pressed into his cheek while he grimaced toward the end of the hall, petrified that your, "dead boyfriend is going to kill me and then I'll be stuck here, too."

"He's not even here, Simon, calm down." You'd rolled your eyes as you'd grabbed the phone. Once he'd placed you on your feet, you'd handed the phone to Simon to hold on to.

Making your way out of the school, Simon asked, "Do you know what Xavier saw?"

You shook your head, "No," solemn, shrinking into yourself as you continued, "And I doubt I'll ever know. He's never going to talk to me again."

You felt Simon's arm drape supportively around your shoulders before he squeezed you into his side, smiling softly as he said, "He'll come around."

"Maybe," You said, not so sure. While Simon had taken the news of your abilities like it was just another day in the neighborhood, Xavier wasn't so quick to move on. He held grudges as if they were missions entrusted to him by the gods. He still didn't trust Hana enough to drink chocolate milk around her after she'd stolen one of his during recess in 1st Grade...

Simon moved the conversation along, "So, you think this Amelia person is still out there. What about that cult? Think she assembled a new team of yes-men to sacrifice?"

You pondered the question as Simon held the door open for you to walk outside. "Honestly, I'm not sure. I'll see what I can find about the Something-Something of Dagda when I get home." You turned your head to look at him, "I really hope that whatever reason she had to kill Aiden isn't connected to why Maddie's a ghost."

Simon nodded and then, quite absurdly, said, "And here I thought we were dealing with aliens."

You stopped walking, stunned into silence, mouth gaping as you absorbed his words. At last, after a second or two of staring at him like he'd grown a second head, you blurted, "Aliens?"

"Or mummies," Simon shrugged easily, snickering at you.

You couldn't help it. It began in fits and starts, and then a loud laugh bubbled out of you that was contagious, Simon snorting and laughing along with you. After everything that had happened in the theater, you hadn't been sure you'd ever be able to laugh again. It felt good. Liberating. Your spirit warmed and somewhat renewed in the wake of such a nightmare.

He opened the passenger side door of his car for you, but as he made his way around to the driver's side, you and he heard a frantic, "Simon!" followed by an equally as worked up, "Babe!"

Instantly, you spun around and Simon halted mid-step, both of you drawn away from the car as Maddie and Wally ran down the path from the school. You glanced at Simon and then shifted to meet Wally and Maddie in the bus shelter. Simon's brow furrowed as he waited for Maddie to explain.

All she managed between gasps was, "4-9-5-2-7-3."

It took a moment, but Simon got with the program quickly, pulling Mr. Anderson's phone out of his pocket. He punched in the numbers when Maddie repeated them more slowly. As he did, you unconsciously moved closer to Wally who strung his arm around your waist, stamping a sweet kiss to your hairline, his big hand engulfing your hip.

You snuggled into his side, weight leaned comfortably into him, and you felt him give your hip a little squeeze. When you looked up, he was already staring down at you, a soft smile on his face.

"Where does Mr. Martin think you are?" You wondered quietly, gazing up at Wally.

"I told him I was gonna make sure Maddie was okay. She bolted out of there and he was kinda worried." He explained into your hair as he pressed another kiss to your head.

You hummed and rested your head against his chest, happy to bask in his presence until "...You've reached Claire Zomer. Do me a fave and just text me, okay?"

Before anyone could react, you felt Wally tense. "Wait. Isn't that the chick Xavier was cheating on Maddie with?"

There was a pause. You looked at Maddie. Maddie looked at Simon. They both looked back at you. And you, so slowly, panned up to look at Wally.

"WHAT!?"

💀___________________________

OCTOBER SUN PT.27 - PART ONE

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[whoopsyeahokay]

Alphabet Soup

summary: prompt fill. the journey of a clandestine love affair at several stages because Wally Clark craves what he can't have and refuses to keep his hands to himself. and you live for it.

pairing: grey!Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut. AU - modern setting. romanticized toxic behavior. cheating (not on you). miscommunication. public sex. egregious use of the word 'baby'.

bon reading, frens

___________________________🧿

Alphabet Soup - M

M is for misunderstandings, and miscommunication, and misleading rumors that bring Wally to his knees while he's in his football kit, 20 minutes before the game. Baby, I swear and I know it's fucked up, but you have to believe me because you DO. Whoever told you that he sexed Janet up at Braden's Homecoming Game Eve party fucking lied. The notion makes Wally queasy and you're not listening, Jesus, baby, stop, just listen! But you're too busy hurting, putting distance between you and Wally like he's fucking contagious, and he doesn't know what else to do.

He grabs you by the shoulders, spins you around, and pins you against the wall with his body, arms fastened around you like boa constriction. You push and shove and loose a muffled scream against his chest. He doesn't budge. Kisses your head, temple, the curve of your jaw, "Stop, baby, please. Please, listen to me." A kiss to the corner of your mouth when you finally submit, pliant in his arms, huffing and hateful and oh so magnificent in your anger.

One hand glides down your spine, the other cradles your face, his eyes begging you to hear him out, "It's not true, sweet girl." He promises, "I wouldn't do that to you. I'd never do. that. to you." And he really fucking wouldn't. To Janet? Yeah, they aren't a thing; not how it matters. But you? It would have to mean life or death, and even then...

You and he are behind the stadium, the back area used by concessions, recycle on one side, trash on the other, hidden from view. Wally lets go. You slump against the wall, expression closed and ears open. He can't play until you smile. Until he knows you're his again. Then bench-rider Matt pops his head out of the security door to tell Wally t-minus too few minutes before he has to hit the field.

"Get lost."

"But—"

"Get fucking lost, Wilson!"

Matt gets fucking lost, off to assure Coach that his MVP will be ready for kickoff. Wally turns his attention right back to you, hands on your neck, thumbs stroking your cheeks, trying to make you look at him. When he kisses you, you fight back with teeth, but at least you respond. Fire and passion so strong that all of Wally's blood jets south and his vision is more inkspots than reality. He shackles one of your wrists in his big hand, then the other. Over your head on the wall as he fucks your mouth with his tongue.

"You gotta believe me, baby," He urges, voice rough and low, taking your wrists in one hand so he can grope under your Devils' blue dress with the other. God, you'd look good in his letterman. A package so pretty he'd have to unwrap you on sight. A smirk against your lips when his fingers rub your pussy through your panties from behind. Soaked. "You like it when I'm rough with you, don't you, baby girl?" He kisses you again. Hard. Nips your lip sharp enough to break the delicate skin.

The moan he swallows makes him throb.

"You didn't really believe it did you? You just wanted to pick a fight...naughty girl." He coos, rich and dark and so hard he thinks he might pass out. "You wanted to get me like this..." He grinds his hips against you, that just-right pressure making his eyes roll back. "Fuck, baby, all you had to do was ask." His fingers keep playing with your pussy, rubbing and teasing, sneaking under thin fabric to feel that sweet velvety heat he can't wait any longer to get around his cock.

In one coarse move, Wally turns you, bends you, ass up, hands on the wall, and a deep curve in your back. He takes a moment to admire you, his fingers digging into your lovehandles. Too bad he doesn't have time to tease you, tugs your panties down to your knees, his pants shoved down to his thighs, hissing when the cool air hits sensitive flesh.

"Gonna make a mess of you baby." He vows and he does, fucks you hard and unforgiving against the stadium wall. Slams into you over and over, angling himself in a way he knows will hit your g-spot every time. On every beat of his hips, you choke, moan, whimper, beg for mercy or more, and he growls in response, moves faster, harder until, fuck, baby, I'm gonna—

Just as it starts, he pulls out, rubs his cockhead through your folds, paints your pussy lips with his come as he strokes himself stupid. But he's not done yet. Before you can breathe, he plunges the fingers of one hand inside you, the fingers of the other on your clit, furious and savage, "That's it, baby girl." He feels you clench, spasm, and then you shout his name as you squirt all over his hand.

Your panties are ruined, used to mop up the mess Wally made as it trickles down the inside of your legs. He smirks at you, hungry, the look in his eyes a guarantee that you're not sleeping at home tonight. You're not sleeping at all.

He takes your bunched up panties from you when you try to throw them in the dumpster, "Nuh-uh, sweet girl, these'll be my lucky charm," and he flagrantly shoves them inside his jockstrap, discreet under the cup, and leaves you to join his team with a deep, hungry kiss and a slap on the ass.

It's the best damn game Wally has ever played.

27-0.

Coach claps his back and demands that Wally do whatever pre-game ritual he did today for the rest of time and Wally's only too happy to oblige. His eyes find you easily in the stands, dress pulled down as far as you could get it, and a feral grin curls his lips. After all, if there's one thing you don't fuck with, it's athletic superstition.

🧿___________________________

MASTERLIST

also available on AO3!

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