Latest Posts by morallygrayboys - Page 2

Arcade Nights and Almost Wins

Drabble Flashback Pt.4

Wally Cark x fem!reader

Prompt: friendly competition

No warnings

Star-crossed lovers Masterlist

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The arcade was buzzing, filled with the constant beeps of machines and the occasional victorious shout from some kid landing a high score. Wally Clark had practically grown up here, spending weekends and spare change on Pac-Man, Galaga, and his game—Street Fighter.

Tonight, though, he had a challenger.

“I’m telling you, I’m gonna win,” Y/N said, cracking her knuckles like she was about to go into battle.

Wally smirked, dropping a few quarters into the machine. “Oh yeah? You just started playing last week.”

“And yet, I’m already better than you.”

He snorted. “I don’t know where this confidence is coming from, but alright.”

The screen flickered to life, and they picked their characters. Wally went with his usual—Ryu. Y/N picked Chun-Li.

“Good choice,” he admitted.

“I know,” she said smugly.

They started the first round, fingers flying over the buttons. Wally was good—he had the reflexes, the timing, and the strategy down. But Y/N was catching on fast, countering his moves, dodging attacks he was sure would land.

“You’ve been practicing,” he realized, squinting at her.

“Maybe.”

“You totally have!”

“Shut up and lose, Clark.”

He laughed, shaking his head, but he almost lost the second round. She landed a surprise combo that had him down to his last sliver of health before he pulled off a desperate win.

They were both breathless when the final match loaded.

“You nervous?” she asked, bouncing on her heels.

“Not even a little,” he lied.

The round started. It was close—way too close. Wally was usually cocky about winning, but for the first time, he had no idea how this would go. Y/N was relentless, going for every opening he left, and for a second, he thought she might actually beat him.

Then, in a last-second move, he barely landed a knockout hit.

The words K.O. flashed across the screen.

Wally yelled, throwing his arms in the air. “YES! CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!”

Y/N groaned, dramatically dropping onto the nearby stool. “I had you.”

“Eh, you almost had me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Next time, I’m crushing you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

She grinned, shaking her head. “You will.”

They played a few more rounds, then wandered to the prize counter, where Wally spent all his leftover tickets on a cheap plastic ring and shoved it into her hand.

“What is this?” she asked, staring at it.

“A consolation prize,” he said, grinning.

She held it up like it was something valuable, then slid it onto her finger. “I’m gonna keep this forever.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right.”

She met his eyes, suddenly serious. “No, really.”

And he didn’t know why, but that made his chest feel weird.

They left the arcade sometime after midnight, Y/N still wearing that stupid plastic ring. And Wally… Wally walked home wondering if maybe, maybe he was already losing a different kind of game.

One where she had no idea she was winning.

Halloween 🎃

Drabble Flashback Pt.11

Wally Cark x fem!reader

Prompt: Independently showed up to the costume party in matching costumes

no warnings

Star-crossed lovers Masterlist

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The house was packed, music blasting from the speakers as teenagers danced and laughed in their best attempts at spooky or ridiculous costumes. Wally adjusted the cowboy hat on his head, scanning the crowd for his friends when he stopped short.

Across the room, she stood there, holding a cup of punch, eyes scanning the party just like his. And she was wearing the exact same thing.

She caught his stare, brow furrowing before a slow smirk crept across her face. “Well, well,” she called over the music, making her way toward him. “Didn’t know I had a twin.”

Wally chuckled, tipping his hat playfully. “Guess that makes me the better cowboy, huh?”

“Please,” she scoffed, taking a sip of her drink. “I bet I can out-rodeo you any day.”

He raised a brow. “That a challenge?”

“More like a fact.”

Wally grinned. He hadn’t expected much from the party, but suddenly, the night seemed a whole lot more interesting.

Star-crossed lovers

Author's Note: Wow! The attention that this got was way more than I expected! Thank you all so much! I added flashbacks and a small extra part after Wally’s death. If you think I should continue this, please let me know! ♡

my requests are always open ♡

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Drabble Flashbacks

Key:

☆: fluff

◇: angst

♡: smut

Freshman Year

Pt.1 Protection and Cameras 📷 ☆

Pt.2 Ferris Wheel Nerves 🎡 ☆

Pt.3 Ice cream Meltdowns 🍦 ☆

Pt.4 Arcade Nights and Almost Wins 🎮 ☆

Pt.5 Lake day shenanigans 🤪 ☆

Pt.6 Lazy Mornings at the Diner 🍽 ☆

Pt.7 Fireworks and Almosts 🎆 ☆

Sophomore Year

Pt.8 Night swims 🏊‍♂️ ☆

Pt.9 First "Date" 🥤 ☆

Pt.10 Bike Races and Bruised Knees 🚲 ☆

Pt.11 Halloween of 1981 🎃 ☆

Pt.12 Homecoming Proposal 81' 💃 ☆

Pt.13 > Homecoming Dance 🕺 ☆

Junior Year

Pt.14 Late-Night Drive-In 🚗 ☆

Pt.15 Record Store Arguments 💿 ☆

Pt.16 A Mistake That Changed Everything ◇

Pt.17 Aftermath - Wally’s POV ◇

Pt.18 Doubt - Y/n's POV ◇

Pt.19 The Truth - Y/n's POV ◇

Pt.20 Collision Course - Wally’s POV ◇

Pt.21 Aftershock - Wally’s POV ◇

Pt.22 Late-Night Diner - Wally’s POV ◇

Pt.23 Rebuilding - Wally’s POV ◇

Present Day

Y/n's POV ◇

Wally’s POV ◇

The Fall - Y/n's POV ◇

Our favorite dead trio! 💕

Check out my Wally Cark x fem!reader fic

Star-crossed lovers Masterlist

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The ones we loved

Wally Clark x fem!reader

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

warnings: death, loss of a loved one, grief

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

Y/n's POV

Star-crossed lovers Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

Then came the landing.

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

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

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

I wasn’t fine at all.

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

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

And then, I thought about her.

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

But the image faded, swallowed by darkness.

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

Then, silence.

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

And then, the storage room.

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

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

And God, how I wished I could answer her.

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

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

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

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

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The ones we lost

Wally Cark x fem!reader

summary: Wally Clark was her world—her first love, her best friend, the one person who made everything feel right. But now he’s gone, ripped away in an instant, leaving behind nothing but echoes of laughter in empty hallways and a heart that feels permanently shattered. Every day is a struggle as she walks through Split River High, surrounded by the ghosts of memories that refuse to fade.

warnings: death, grief, loss of a loved one

Author's Note: It's possible that this could turn into a series, but for now, this is just a singular fanfic. If there are any recommendations for future fics or a continuance of this one, my requests are always open ♡

Wally’s POV

Star-crossed lovers Masterlist

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

The stadium was electric, the crowd roaring as the final moments of the homecoming game played out under the bright Friday night lights. I sat in the stands, bundled in Wally’s varsity jacket, my heart pounding with excitement and nerves. This was his night—his chance to shine. I could already picture him grinning ear to ear afterward, sweeping me up in a post-game hug, the way he always did.

Then it happened.

Announcer: "Clark takes a big hit. He is down."

The hit came out of nowhere. One second, Wally was sprinting down the field, and the next, a player blindsided him with a brutal tackle. I watched, breathless, as his body lifted off the ground, flipping unnaturally in the air. The sickening crack echoed through the stadium as he landed hard on the turf, his head snapping at an awful angle. The crowd fell eerily silent.

My stomach dropped. Announcer: "This doesn't look good for Wally Clark."

“Get up, Wally,” I whispered, gripping the edge of my seat, willing him to move. To even twitch. But he didn’t. The players around him hesitated before frantically waving for help. Coaches and medics rushed the field, but he just lay there, still, too still. A cold dread settled over me, crawling up my spine.

This wasn’t like the other times he’d been hit. This was different.

Somewhere in the distance, I heard a voice yelling his name. It took me a second to realize it was mine...

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The days after felt like a blur. A never-ending, suffocating blur. The hospital waiting room, the murmured apologies from doctors, the way his mother collapsed into sobs when they told us he was gone.

It felt unreal, like some kind of cruel joke.

Because how could Wally be gone? He was just here. Just laughing with me, just kissing me goodbye before the game, just promising me we'd go to the lake this weekend.

But he wasn’t here anymore. He never would be again.

I don’t remember much about the funeral. Just the weight in my chest, the way the world felt too bright for a day so dark.

People kept talking about him like he was a memory, but I couldn't accept that.

He wasn’t just a memory. He was still mine. My Wally. I stopped going to football games. Couldn’t even look at the field. Every time I walked past it, I swore I could still hear the echo of that hit, the way the crowd gasped, the way my heart broke in real time.

I needed somewhere to go, somewhere that felt like him.

That’s how I met Mr. Daniels, the janitor. He saw me wandering the halls after school one day, lingering in places I shouldn’t be. I expected him to scold me, to tell me to go home, but instead, he just asked, "Looking for somewhere quiet?" I nodded, and after a moment, he motioned for me to follow. He led me to an old storage room near the back of the school, long forgotten and covered in dust. "Nobody uses this place anymore," he said, tossing me a key. "Clean it up if you want. Just don’t tell anyone."

So I did. I spent hours there, sweeping the dust away, hanging up old pictures of Wally from my locker, draping his jacket over the back of a rickety chair.

It wasn’t much, but it was his. And being there, surrounded by the echoes of our time together, made me feel like I wasn’t completely alone.

One day, while sitting in that room, I let myself remember. Really remember. The way Wally smiled when he was nervous. The way his laugh sounded when he was truly happy. And, finally, the way he looked just before it all went wrong.

The scar of that night never left me. I replayed it over and over, but deep down, I knew what happened.

One night, sitting there alone, I whispered to the empty space, "I miss you, Wally." And though the room was silent, though I would never see his face again, I swore I could feel something—just the faintest hint of warmth, like he was still with me in some way. I still dream about him.

Sometimes, I wake up thinking I hear his voice, feel his arms around me. But when I open my eyes, the room is empty. Still, I know the truth.

He’s not lost. Not really. As long as I remember him, as long as I keep this small piece of him close, he’ll always be here. And maybe, just maybe, one day, I’ll see him again.