Boyfriend Simon Elroy (NSFW)

🧿 to keep you safe from people who want to do you harm.<3 🧿

Rhonda: The great thing about apologies is that you don’t have to mean them

Rhonda: You know, I lie and tell Charley I’m sorry all the time

Charley: *glares at her*

Rhonda: I’m sorry

Rhonda: See?

This is a girls Roman Empire

October Sun

summary: truths had been spilled before anyone had been ready to hear them and the consequences of actions had finally been justly served.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

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

bon reading, frens

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OCTOBER SUN pt.26

Wally had just handed Maddie the receipt when he'd heard the commotion from the theater above. Your voice chased Xavier's as his heavy footsteps clomped around. Stopped. Then your voice again, splintered and tight. Your misery rallied Wally's rage and he was off like a shot.

"Hell no," He announced, barely giving Maddie a look of warning before he barreled up the stairs—two at a time—and pushed the trapdoor open. Its back hit the stage with a bang that ricocheted through the empty space. He propelled out, jumped from the stage to ground level, and took an offensive position between you and Xavier.

He was fucking done with this dipshit.

"What happened, baby?" Wally asked, canted his head slightly to catch you in his periphery while he maintained sight of Xavier. "What did he do?"

Maddie scrambled onto the stage, quickly followed by the others, "Is everything okay?"

Behind him, Wally heard you steadily beginning to panic, repeating expletives like a prayer while Xavier stared through Wally at you with a belligerent expression. Fuck every last thing, Wally had had enough. He'd wanted to grab that asshole by the collar and shake him until he passed out since Maddie had revealed what Xavier had done behind her back. And as much as Wally had wanted to protect you from the hurt of learning your BFF wasn't all that, he couldn't do it anymore.

He took a step toward Xavier, fists balled, teeth bared, but just as he raised his arm to take a swing (who the hell cared if nothing happened, Wally would feel better for it), Maddie threw herself off the stage and used her whole body to halt the motion, her slender arms clamping around his to pin it down.

Simultaneously, he felt you band around his waist, soft yet solid, forehead pressed to his spine. "Wally, it's okay," You tried to assure him, but your voice was so little, so broken, that it only served to fan the flames of his rage higher. Of course, that rage hiccupped momentarily when Xavier swiftly jerked backward, stumbled over his own feet, and fell on his ass. His eyes round and petrified, a choked "holy shit" coughed out of him when he landed.

You and Maddie released Wally the second Xavier hit the floor, Maddie pressing herself against the stage while you cautiously padded around Wally to look at Xavier, head cocked in confusion.

Alarmed, "Where'd he go!?" Xavier heaved.

It seemed to dawn on you in increments what had transpired and you glanced up at Wally, mouth agape. "Fuck me," You breathed, tone stressed, and all he could do was stare back at you in question. Slowly, you took Wally's hand, laced your fingers through his, and watched Xavier carefully. Again, Xavier made a punched-out sound of fear, pressed his palms into his eyes, and then dragged his gaze up the length of Wally's body from feet to face. Although Wally's anger still blazed red-hot in him, he was fairly taken aback by the fact that:

"You can see me?" He asked Xavier, who nodded weakly in response.

You untangled your fingers from Wally's, letting go entirely. "How 'bout now?"

Xavier returned with a stuttered shake of his head. "The fuck is going on, May?"

You bristled, brows furrowing, jaw locking. Wally hadn't seen you angry. Frustrated, perhaps; perturbed, maybe; but not angry, and it both shocked and aroused him. Straight back, dark eyes, a menacing expression on your face as you glared at Xavier as if he'd done you as dirty as he'd done Maddie.

"I asked you to stop calling me that, B." You said, words pressed through your teeth, and, yeah, yep, Wally flushed crimson, the slightest bit turned on at how commanding your tone was. Something he would explore later when he didn't have a dozen eyes on him.

Xavier finally managed to get back to his feet, rounding on you, annoyed and over it, "Are you serious right now? A fucking dead guy keeps teleporting in and out of existence and you're getting pissed at me over that?"

Without hesitation, Wally strung his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side. "Don't talk to her like that, asshole," He warned, a satisfied smirk on his mouth when Xavier clapped a hand to his chest in fright. Wally softened like butter when he felt your hand smooth over his heart, sweet marbled eyes gazing up at him in apprehension. He took your hand and lifted it to his lips, kissed your knuckles to comfort you before he whipped a hard, threatening stare at Xavier. "You don't get to make her the bad guy here."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Xavier said in mock apology, "I'll just forget the fact that she's been lying to me forever about being a necrophiliac!"

You choked on a breath, wheezed, "I am not a necrophiliac," to which Wally had to grin down at you playfully, tilting his head with a casual shrug.

"I mean..."

"No 'I mean'!" You shot back, flustered.

Sat on the edge of the stage to observe the proceedings, Rhonda wearily explained, "No, superstar, in order for that to be true, you would've had to..." She swirled her lollipop in the air, "You know." Beside her, Charley made a circle with his fingers and stuck his opposite index finger through it repeatedly, a visual representation of the point Rhonda insinuated. She rolled her gaze to Xavier, "He's thinking necromancer."

"Which I'm also not!" You sustained through a grimace and then repeated for Xavier's benefit, "I'm not a necromancer."

Xavier did a double-take, spinning in an uncoordinated circle to survey the theater, "Are there others!?"

But you ignored him, your mind clearly elsewhere because, when you next spoke, you whispered to Wally in distress, "Oh my God, the maintenance guy."

Wally took a moment to recall that unwelcome interruption, how the maintenance man had appeared to be looking between you and something else. The man's awkward demeanor had caught Wally off-guard, though, at the time, he'd chalked it up to the odd position you'd been in. But...if he really thought about it...the man wouldn't have been able to see you from where he'd been standing.

He bit his lip bashfully, trying and failing not to reveal how positively gleeful he was that someone in the living world had witnessed you two together and knew who you belonged to. In the least possessive way possible, of course.

"Face," Rhonda, Charley, and, damn him, Ajay chorused about Wally's shift in expression. He cleared his throat and once more adjusted his features into something appropriate for the circumstances; menacing, off-put, downright hateful. Complete with heart-eyes, who was he kidding?

Meanwhile, Xavier crept toward you, a man against an untamed horse, hand out and shoulders drawn, "May, I need you to be honest with me, are there other dead people in here?"

Again, you scowled, "Stop. Calling me that."

Though he didn't understand why the nickname seemed to bother you, Wally bristled on your behalf, telling Xavier, "You should listen to her, man, or, believe me, I'll make you."

Out of frame, the others, including Mina, gawked at Wally's uncharacteristic behavior, Charley putting a hand to his collar in the manner of pearl-clutching. Rhonda regained her composure quickly, smirked around the stem of her lollipop like a proud mama lion that's cub was about to strike its first kill. Ajay tiptoed over to Mina and put his hands over her eyes so she wouldn't have to witness possible manslaughter being committed.

"And what are you gonna do, huh?" Xavier challenged, trudging into Wally's space with aggressive intent. "You're a ghost. You can't hurt me." He paused, glancing at you to ask, "Can he?"

Wally poked a vicious finger into Xavier's shoulder, shoving him back, "You bet I can."

"Jesus, that's enough!" Maddie swooped in, totally aggrieved, "We have bigger things to worry about than whose dick is bigger." She pushed Wally out of the way, inadvertently forcing him to release his hold on you which made Xavier pitch backwards. Whether because Wally had turned into the Invisible Man again or for another reason, Wally wasn't entirely sure, but he made a point of watching Xavier closely.

Maddie handed you the receipt Wally had found in the cellarage, "I think that money we found in Mr. Anderson's classroom is from this." As you inspected it ("Where'd that come from!?" Xavier squeaked) Maddie explained, "He has a whole operation under the stage. If we're right, he's been stealing money from the Booster Club."

"Which means we have something that'll help Simon." ("What will help Simon!?") A broad smile swept across your pretty pink lips, your whole face brightening for the first time since the debacle between you and Xavier had started. Wally felt himself melt, that time ignoring the refrain of face from everyone onstage. "It's Friday, right? So, there's a staff meeting after school."

Maddie built on your idea, "We'll get Simon to take the evidence to everyone. They'll have to believe him."

"I'll text Simon and let him know."

However, on the cusp of ballistic, Xavier demanded, "What. Is. Happening!?"

You cleared your throat and handed the receipt to Xavier, relayed what Maddie had just told you. "It could get Simon off the hook," You said quietly, somewhat wilted, unable to look him in the eye.

Xavier examined the receipt and nodded, but he seemed distracted, his breathing labored, eyes again sweeping the theater for evidence of—"That's awesome," He struggled to say, turning desperate and afraid, "But could you tell me why the fuck I just saw Maddie?"

Your head shot up, "You did?" while Maddie sagged under the weight of what appeared to be every emotion she'd ever felt toward Xavier all at once. You panned to her, unsure, gaze flicking between her and Xavier in silent question to which she nodded sadly and held out her hand for you to take.

Wally knew the moment Xavier could see her, bewildered, guilty, his pallor paling to a sickly grey. It looked like he didn't know what to do with himself, caught between moving toward her and giving her more space. You watched them both with puzzlement; waited for someone to explain why Xavier was acting cagey instead of how most people would respond when they had the chance to behold a dead loved one (Maddie's not-death notwithstanding).

Ragged, Xavier stammered, "Do...Did you know...?"

And Maddie answered with a hum and a curt nod, "Yeah. I heard what you said to your dad on Monday before the vigil."

"Oh fuck, Maddie, I'm so sorry." Xavier sunk into one of the seats, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, body trembling. "I'm so fucking sorry."

Out of the loop, you asked Maddie, "What's he talking about?" and Wally's heart almost broke for you despite his earlier vehemence that you be told what Xavier had done. This was the moment. This was how you discovered the truth.

"It's fine." Maddie lied, avoiding your gaze, "I'm over it." She wasn't, and Wally wondered who she was hoping to convince.

"Over what?" You pressed as you looked at Xavier, "What are you talking about, Zav? What are you sorry for?" Wally heard the thread of fear in your voice as your mind flooded with too many grim possibilities.

Wally decided to take the onus off Xavier to reveal himself for who he really was, returning to your side and winding his arm around you to hold your hip. He wanted Xavier to see him when he said, "He was cheating on Maddie with the head cheerleader. Claire or whatever."

"Wait...what? No. No, Xavier wouldn't..." But Xavier would and you understood that the second you laid eyes on him, "You wouldn't," And then, devastated, "Oh my God...all those texts about band practice you made me send you..."

Xavier rose and attempted to approach you, hands up, "I didn't mean for—"

You snarled at him, "You made me help you!" and dropped Wally's hand. That time, no one leaped from the stage. No one called out or pulled you back or intervened in any way. You stomped up to Xavier, reeled your arm back, and decked him squarely in the mouth.

💀___________________________

PART TWENTY-FIVE

note: fun fact: i'd toyed with the "ppl can see Wally when Reader touches him" reveal for some time, initially thinking i'd do it at the Homecoming Dance. but. plot happened so...yeah no, it didn't work anymore 🤷‍♀️ also, i would've had to account for Nicole, Claire, Mathilda, Hana, Eli...everyone. possibly teachers. all the ghosts. i love writing ensemble scenes, but that is too many moving pieces.

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ABOUT THE TAGLIST: i'm afraid i am no longer updating or using the taglist. moving forward, if you'd like to keep up to date, please FOLLOW ME and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS. that thing took me to Hell and back, and we're no longer on speaking terms...😒

i NEED more simon content there’s literally none anywhere

Sorry this is short I just happend to already have it written up. For everyone else my requests are open. if you see a character I write for and want something specific feel free to ask. (And for the nony that requested freaky Wally time, you know who you are, if you're seeing this I am in fact working on it)

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Simons an obsessive lover. Not in a bad way, but in the sense that he memerises every little thing about you. Likes, dislikes, how you part your hair, the way you carry yourself, all the little things you do that are unique to you. 

Would tackle Mike Tison himself for you despite the fact that he doesn’t know how to fight. He has a protective nature that takes over and forces him to defend you. Has resulted in him getting his ass beat several times and you having to step in, dragging him away from the fight. 

Respects your privacy no matter how bad he wants to know what you got going on that you can’t tell him about. Will constantly remind you that you can talk to him about anything. 

Will binge watch a series with you that he has absolutely no interest in if it makes you happy. Same with books, music, hobbies, just anything you enjoy. 

Horror movie marathon dates where he constantly tries to spook you. Will feel bad if you actually get scared. 

Keeps your favorite snacks at his house at all times. Constantly tells you that his home is your home and you’re welcome there anytime, doesn’t matter if it's the middle of the night, he’ll open his door, bed, shower, and fridge to you without a second thought. 

All and all Simons a simp who doesn’t know hes a simp. He’ll absolutely fold for you without thinking about it.

October Sun

summary: you'd gone to the school, hoping to find Wally or Shy Boy or Bitnik Girl. hell, you'd settle for Mina Volkov and her volatility, adamant that you'd had to have practiced the right procedures to join her in the rafters. At that point, you'd been willing to do just about anything (exposing your abilities included) to help course-correct after Simon had been hauled away by the cops.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

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

bon reading, frens

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OCTOBER SUN pt.21

You'd almost been willing to do as Xavier had asked. To stay home and rest—not that you'd have been able to do so successfully, earlier events churning together in a wild storm of tragic memory, frayed thought, and sick emotion. You'd been curled up on Aidan's bed, holding Limon like a lifeline, Xavier long gone after promising to pick you up in the morning.

Then Simon had texted; had told you about Mrs. Grace striding into the interrogation room and disarming the deputies' aggressive questioning with a single look before they'd had a chance to dig in. Apparently, Simon was due back at the station the next day, informed he was to give a formal statement that would be recorded and observed by the right parties.

In the aftermath, his parents had been frantic to the point of guarding the exits and refused to let him out of his room. He'd been allowed access to his phone for ten minutes until he'd had to hand it back to his mother.

Things had gone from abstract to real too quickly for you to fathom, everything utterly and completely fucked, and you were scared. Scared for Simon, for yourself. For Maddie. It'd been Simon's texts that had spurred you into action. They think I had something to do with it, Simon had relayed, they aren't even looking at Anderson. After that, there'd been no chance you'd sit idle, twiddling your thumbs through the night until Xavier returned before school.

You'd snuck out without trouble, quick-marched the path to Split River High, keeping to the shadows to avoid late-night weirdos, and possible Neighborhood Watchers who would tattle on you to your mother. You didn't have a plan, knew the school was locked and a night guard was on duty. Either Al or Barry, the two rotating shifts between day and night week by week.

Al was old, watermelon-round, and slow; wouldn't give you more than a lazy warning if he caught you trying to break into the building. Barry, on the other hand, was young, loud; had some kind of point to prove, and acted like his uniform made him the voice of authority. He wouldn't hesitate to tell Principal Hartman who he'd caught in the halls after dark, jaundiced teeth on display as he sneered through a heavily embellished version of the truth just to make things worse for you.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you hurried across the parking lot, practically jogging to the back of the school where you stopped a few feet short of the door. You were relying—perhaps too much—on the connection between you and Wally, blind hope warring with better judgment as you chanted his name in your mind. Over and over, infused with pleas to come find you. It was stupid, you thought, the dumbest idea anyone had ever had, begging a ghost to ride in like a white knight on the back of the telepathy neither of you had. What was worse was that, even upon entering the school grounds, the connection had only murmured to life, a barely-there purr reaching outward like a cat stretching after a nap. It was unbothered, the way you'd noticed it was when you and Wally weren't within a specific radius of one another.

While it made it easy to concentrate in class, that little mechanism made you want to punch a hole through the fabric of the universe and throttle whatever divine entity had thought it up. Motherfucker. Still, you prayed it would be enough to get Wally's attention.

Minutes passed and you paced a groove into the grass, hands shoved into the kangaroo pocket of Andrew's hoodie when you weren't combing your fingers through your hair or flapping them along with the angry conversation you were having in your head about weaponized bias. Because who the hell were those deputies to suspect Simon of anything? Of course, you didn't know the whole story. Simon had only had ten minutes to talk and he'd also been texting Nicole. Probably Mathilda, too, since she'd been on the verge of rabid by the time he was released into his parent's custody.

Fuck this. The connection wasn't working, or maybe Wally was preoccupied, or, who knew, he could be in that strange state of suspension that you'd read about; a whole chapter dedicated to the way in which ghosts linger between the hours, as if not existing at all, until something roused them. You didn't know enough about the connection between you and Wally to question whether or not it would be cause enough for him to come to.

Out of patience, you decided it was time to do something. You stomped around the side of the building, trying to guess where Wally would be at that time, and, god dammit, you both really needed to have more conversations about things outside of Maddie and mad teachers. Finally, you halted in front of the gym's exterior. You checked the ground for something to throw at the grated window, a stone or stick big enough to rattle the metal and make noise.

Stone in hand, you positioned yourself to hurl it at the school. Arm raised, body angled back, hyping yourself up in your head as you counted down from 3. Best case scenario: Wally came to get you. Worst case: Barry got to you first.

With a shuddery breath, you swung your arm and—

"Don't." An unfamiliar voice said from behind you as your wrist was grabbed in a hard, though not painful, grip.

You dropped the stone, "What the shit!?" and swirled around, irrationally terrified that it was Mr. Anderson come to do to you what he'd done to Maddie.

It took a moment for the fear to recoil, for your heart to slink down from your mouth to your chest. You took in the person who'd stopped you. A tall boy with South Asian features wearing autoshop coveralls, the top rolled and bunched around his waist. He studied his hand, as if touching you had caused some kind of reaction, before he looked back up and regarded you in awe.

"Uhm...hi?" You said for lack of anything better. The longer he stared without saying anything, the more time you had to process. With a thick swallow, cold dread crept over you as it slowly clicked who was standing in front of you. Arjun "Ajay" Khatwani. Died in 1992. Crushed under a car in autoshop. "Oh, fuck me," You bemoaned, scrubbing your hands over your face.

Great. That was great. Another nail in the coffin of keeping a secret you'd been sworn to by ancestral blood. He seemed to notice your despair, his posture changing from loose shock to rigidly unimpressed, arms folding and one brow arching.

"You can't be here." He said, "Especially not now." And what the hell did that mean?

"Look, buddy, I don't mean to be rude, but I really need to get into that school," You hooked your thumb over your shoulder, "and I am going to find a way to do it."

His shoulders squared, a determined expression hardening on his face, "And, trust me, I want to help. But you can't just fly in there and expect Wally not to get found out."

That was...what just happened? Wires sparked and the control board short-circuited as you tried and failed to respond. Mouth gupping as a rush-hour-of-traffic's worth of words clogged your throat. Had Wally told Ajay about you? No. He wouldn't. Logically, it was impossible to know, but something deep within you rejected the idea as soon as it manifested.

"Come again?"

"Everyone just got over Charley keeping Simon a secret. How do you think they'll feel when they find out Wally—our dopey, naive, puppy-dog mascot—betrayed everyone as well, hm?" He took a step toward you, a deep V between his brows that looked foreign on his face. "I know you have a lot to lose, too, but you have family who will support you no matter what. Here," He said, indicating more than the school, you recognized, "We only have each other."

"You just said everyone got over Charley—" Was he the kid with the glasses and the Timberlake frosted tips? "—why wouldn't they do the same for Wally?"

"It's different. Listen to me—" And then he said something that startled you back a step, your eyes bulging. Your name tumbled from his lips like he'd known you his whole life. Not your full name, no. It was the nickname Aurora had used when you were a baby. Ajay raised his hands in a placating gesture, "Please, just listen. I'll go get him, but understand," There Ajay paused, reluctant and no less determined to get his point across, "He's with the others right now and I can't think of a reason to get him alone at midnight on a Thursday. Not after everything that happened today."

"So bring them." You challenged, eyes narrowed, standing taller, because, honestly? If Ajay knew about you then what the fuck was the point anymore?

He might not have openly confessed that your sister had interacted with him of her own volition, but he didn't need to. You could sense his sincerity; his willingness not to disrupt the status quo. He wouldn't have sought Aurora out, and you hadn't seen anything from him in your years at the school to indicate he was the type of ghost to stalk the living. Not like Dreamy Dawn who insinuated herself into students' spaces to rifle through their things.

So, Aurora had dallied with a ghost, too, and no unearthly horrors had been unleashed upon her, why not say fuck you to a lifetime of indoctrinating magical gospel and do the same?

Ajay seemed uncertain, momentarily quiet as he thought about what to do. Clearly, he'd assumed you'd back down. Run home to bed, hide under the covers, and wait until tomorrow to find Wally. Yeah. Not happening. Not while Simon was on the cusp of expulsion. If you didn't find something to incriminate Anderson, something that would get Simon off the hook, you'd never forgive yourself.

"Do it, Ajay," You said, just a tiny bit smug when his head snapped up at your use of his name. "Bring. Everyone."

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Wally had felt your presence as soon as you'd stepped through the barrier. A sweet honey tug in his gut that made his gums itch and his scalp tingle. He wanted to get up, go find you, hold you, kiss you, tell you how much he'd missed you since you'd left in a state that had broken his heart.

But he couldn't. Rhonda's change of heart toward Maddie and Charley had been hard-earned and Wally was far too nervous to do anything to rock the boat. Rhonda sat at the coffee table, an old yearbook open in front of her as she explained to Maddie what had happened to cause the Devils to become the Bandits.

Charley was curled up near Wally, back rested against the couch, at peace now that his place amongst their group had been reinstated. To Wally, it'd never been in question, and he doubted Rhonda would've let Charley's exile last more than a week, but still, it was nice to see Charley comfortable and content. Right where he belonged. With them.

The question of telling Mr. Martin about Maddie and Simon came up, Maddie making a promise that Wally and Rhonda had discussed at length after Simon was dragged away by police. Wally and Rhonda had just suggested they follow Charley's lead instead, Charley then wondering where to go from there, when Ajay poked his head into the library.

He must've heard what Charley had asked because he stuttered, "Um...guys...there's someone here who I think can help you," gaze darting around the room before resting on Wally.

In that second, Wally knew exactly what was about to happen.

He leapt to his feet, ready to dash circuits around the school to find you, when Ajay halted him with an intentional, hard stare. Something akin to how his mama had looked at him when he'd been about to blurt information she hadn't wanted her Book Club to know.

The others stood, circling Ajay with a dozen questions, Maddie's voice above the rest as she pecked for answers about Simon. "Is he here? Is he okay?"

Ajay quieted them with a wave of his hand, "All I can say is I'm sorry for not telling you about her sooner." He leveled Wally with a look. It spoke volumes, told Wally to keep his mouth shut and follow Ajay's lead or Ajay would do unspeakable things to him for the remainder of their shared afterlife. Wally gave a minute jerk of his chin that Ajay received with an almost imperceptible quirk of his lips.

"She can see ghosts," He explained to the others, "And she wants to help."

"Who are you talking about?" Maddie questioned while Rhonda and Charley stood behind her in varying degrees of shock. "Who is it?"

Ajay swept an arm, a gesture for everyone to follow him to where he'd tucked you away. "Just. Come with me."

He set a quick pace and, as Wally caught up to walk beside Ajay, he understood why. The others had shorter strides and, although keeping up pretty well, lagged behind a small distance. It was still wide enough that Wally could whisper without being overheard.

"What's going on?" He had to know. "Is she okay?"

"I swear to every god in the Hindu pantheon, Clark, if you two get caught, I am not holding your hand through whatever Charley and Rhonda do to you," Ajay warned under his breath, speaking out of the side of his mouth.

Ouch. Violent, but okay. Wally got the message, loud and clear. Despite Ajay's stiff manner, Wally deeply appreciated his friend helping him avoid disaster. He realized it wasn't just for his sake, but for yours as well. If not handled delicately, shit could hit the fan. He didn't think those in the Afterlife Support Group were too big a risk, but he couldn't be sure how knowledge of your abilities would affect the Loopers. Mina notwithstanding, obviously.

Ajay led them up the flights of stairs to the roof exit—a hatch ladder that scaled up to the already open portal above. "You come up last." He said, hushed, before the others joined them in the cramped space, "And for the love of God, Wally, do not get too close to her. "

"Got it," Wally replied, shuffling back to allow Rhonda, and then Maddie and Charley, to climb up after Ajay. There was no way to know how the connection between you and him would react once he laid eyes on you, but he'd do his best to honor Ajay's wishes...there'd be some kind of effort made, at least.

Already he felt the connection stirring to life, his blood pumping faster, pulse humming in his ears, breath quickening. Fuck, he was sure his pupils were completely blown, the smell of vanilla on the breeze reminding him of how you're skin had tasted as he'd nipped and licked your neck in the theater last night, the tight little keens you'd made driving him crazy—

Ajay's head appeared through the portal, a look of total disappointment on his face, "For fuck's sake, buddy, pull yourself together," he growled and reached a hand in to help Wally over the metal lip and onto the gravel rooftop.

Chagrined, Wally took a few deep breaths through his nose—which helped about as much as you being pressed flush against him would have—and he shook his head, his hands, one foot after the other, in an attempt to work out some of the electricity that sparked under his skin.

When Wally finally glanced up, the others had you surrounded, Ajay sticking close to your side and putting everyone in their place with a matronly stare.

You were so damn close and all Wally could think of in the moment was sweeping you into his arms and holding you forever. You were adorable in the same oversized sweater you'd worn yesterday, looking particularly tiny under the bulky fabric. Your hair was mussed as if you'd just climbed out of bed and...oh shit god damn. He blazed a hot trail down your body with his eyes and had to bite back a groan when he saw that your thighs were bare, your cutesy sleep shorts doing nothing to help Wally's steadily worsening predicament.

Ajay flashed him another look of disdain which served to reel Wally's desire back in. Alright. He could do this. He could be normal about you. For sure.

The others seemed to part like the fucking Red Sea as Wally stepped toward you. In his periphery, he just make out Rhonda's deeply suspicious expression, Charley's narrowed eyes, and Maddie's woe. Shit, that's right, you probably had no idea Maddie was there. Had he mentioned that to Ajay? Crap, why couldn't he remember?! Should he say something?

He had to keep his eyes on everything except you—the ground, Rhonda's Oxfords, Charley's shoulder—as the connection crackled and licked like fire inside him. Wally tensed every muscle in his body, stiff as a board and probably emanating the most awkward vibes the others had ever seen from him, but he managed to maintain control.

Of course, keeping a level head and maintaining control wasn't really in Wally's wheelhouse. Not off the field, anyway. And especially not around you.

Like chimes in the wind, your voice clinked through the silence, a simple "Hi," forcing Wally's head up and his gaze to lock on yours, beautiful, marbling swirls the color of galaxies.

His breath caught and it was at that moment that he knew he was fucked.

💀___________________________

PART TWENTY

note: not edited, we die like students at Split River High.

anyway, thank you so much for keeping up with this journey, my beloveds! the next part might be out sooner than i thought since i have a few days off this coming week. no promises, just hopeful thinking 😭 expect a comical stage as Ajay tries to keep Wally from giving everything away 👻 we have fun here...

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ABOUT THE TAGLIST: i'm afraid i am no longer updating or using the taglist. moving forward, if you'd like to keep up to date, please FOLLOW ME and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS. that thing took me to Hell and back, and we're no longer on speaking terms...😒

Cat: You're in Spencer's DM's, I'm in his police report

Cat: We are not the same

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. miscommunication. public sex. egregious use of the word 'baby'.

bon reading, frens

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Alphabet Soup - M

M is for misunderstandings, and miscommunication, and misleading rumors that bring Wally to his knees while he's still in his game day kit. 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 Brandon'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 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. And 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 wanted to pick a fight, didn't you?" 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 in the air and a curve in your back, fingers digging into your lovehandles. He tugs your panties down to your knees, his pants shoved down to his thighs, hissing when the cool air hits his cock.

"Gonna make a mess of you baby." He promises 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, 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 trickled 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 with a smack on the ass to join his team.

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

27-0.

Coach slaps his back and demands that Wally ensure he does whatever pre-game ritual he did today 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.

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