Alphabet Soup

Anxiety

summary: prompt fill. Wally isn't clingy. he isn't. honest. but something about your aura makes him nervous, and suddenly he's all hands everywhere and babbling where he's normally calm, cool, collected, and he needs you to get his head back on right. (request)

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut. flashfic. nothing Anxiety Disorder related. Wally Clark is a whiny lil' babe when he's nervous.

bon reading, frens

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Anxiety

At first, you don't even acknowledge him. Which, alright, fine, you don't have to, it's not a rule. But Wally's suddenly anxious, tracking in his head all the things he said to you yesterday when he left your house. Hopped out the window, dashed across the lawn, and strutted home with a skip in his step because you showed him how much you love his cock.

Thrice.

You kissed him goodbye, sleepy and sweet, after he tucked you in. Normal. Better than normal, actually. And you didn't text him this morning to suggest anything's wrong.

Oh God. Does that mean something's wrong?

You don't always text him before school since, as you said, you know you're going to catch him before class. He left you pretty late last night, so no wonder you showed up only minutes before the bell instead of your usual twenty, and shit, is that the problem?

He wasn't considerate of your time? He should've been. Fuck, he should. have. been. Not whining and begging you for, "Just one more time, baby, please. I can't stop, I'm still so hard for you, come on."

With a whine he doesn't realize he releases, he crosses the cafeteria and takes a seat beside you. Fiddles with his hands in his lap, knee bouncing, trying to smile at Simon and Ajay who smile back, though something in their eyes is mildly concerned.

You chat away to Claire and Nicole as if Wally isn't buzzing out of his skin beside you, pretty and awake, voice tinkling like a bell. Wally chews his lip the longer you go without indicating you notice him.

You're wrapped up in the conversation, he tells himself. You're not mad at him. Right? .... Right!?

Uncertain, but desperate for acknowledgement, Wally reaches out and places a hand on your knee. You don't shoo him away. Don't move it. In fact, you inch closer, pressing your hip against his and curling your hand around his. You don't look at him, but Wally considers it a win.

Or maybe it's not.

Maybe you just don't want to cause a scene, and you're giving him crumbs of affection to placate him before you take him somewhere private and blow his world to smithereens.

By the time the bell rings, Wally's worked himself into a frenzy. Palms sweaty, face pale, bottom lip worried red. He keeps his eyes down, offering you a nervous, tight smile when you gaze up at him as you stand and grab your bag.

You notice his nervous demeanor and tilt your head, studying him like last night's Bio homework.

You and he have English next, but you don't seem to care, dragging him by the wrist into an empty classroom where you instruct him to, "Sit."

Wally does as he's told, sitting in the teacher's chair, staring up at you with enormous, soulful eyes, as if pleading for you to forgive him for whatever he did wrong.

You scan his face through narrowed eyes, and then slide your bag off your shoulder and let it drop to the floor. Quite unexpectedly (though very much appreciated), you plant your legs on either side of his and plop down in his lap with your whole weight. Hips right against his, no air between you; your hands on his shoulders and his on your waist.

He gulps, blinking at you, waiting for you to say something.

Finally, "What's going on in that silly head of yours, pretty boy?"

Wally releases a breath he didn't realize he was holding, relaxing as your lips curl into a warm, sedate smile. His hands tighten on your waist.

"I...thought you were mad at me?" He poses like a question, feeling stupid now that he hears himself say it out loud. And then, babbling, "I thought I might've disrespected your time last night. I know I left later than we planned, and I'm so sorry. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again, babe, I promise. But you know how I am when I get you all to myself—" Which sounds like he's blaming you, crap "Not that it's your fault, I'm not saying that, I was just trying to say that I know I need to be more aware of the time—"

You shut him up with a hard, deep kiss. Your lips taste like candy, tongue sweet-sour as you sweep it over his, moaning in delight when he begins to respond.

His hands fall to your hips, then glide back to grab your ass cheeks, hitching you as close as he can get you. Wally spreads his legs wide, cock fattening up so quick he sees spots behind his eyes when you grind forward and gasp.

"There's my good boy," You murmur, breathless, beautiful; cheeks pink and eyes glossy, and, oh fuck, Wally whimpers. You fist your hand into his hair and drag him into another heavy kiss, not letting him breathe until you've had your fill.

He pants, fingers kneading the flesh of your ass as you grind in slow, delirious rolls of your hips against his.

"I'm not mad at you, Wally," You assure him, "What did I tell you last time you thought I was?"

It takes everything in Wally to remember anything outside of this moment, but eventually he says, "That you'd tell me immediately."

"And I meant that." You pause, going still, and he whines in frustration. "Don't you trust me?"

He nods vigorously, "I trust you, I'm sorry," pinning you to him which in turn shifts you against his cock. He moans weakly, grinding his hips up, begging you to take pity on him.

Fuck, it's insane how easily he gets worked up for you, but he wouldn't change a thing. You and he are already skipping English, might as well use the time doing something...productive.

"Shh, you don't need to apologize," And you say it as you wedge a hand between your body and his, fingers deftly undoing his fly, hand sneaking under the denim to palm him through his boxer-briefs. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Wally's breathing too quick to respond, to thank you for being so understanding. His eyes roll back, head tipping backwards, hips bucking into your hand.

"Baby, please," God, he needs you, is already leaking a wet spot into the cotton.

Cruelly. Sultry. "Use your words, pretty boy," You purr, biting a trail down his neck. "Tell me what you want to do."

He swallows thickly, groans weakly, a pathetic little mewl. He hates having to ask, especially when he knows you know exactly what he's angling for.

But then your hand stops, your hips stop, you stop, and he forces out, "I wanna be inside you so bad..." Choked and desperate.

He opens his eyes and sees you smirking at him, cool as a cucumber. Or that's what he thinks until you grab his hand and bring it under your skirt, encourage his fingers to slip under the crotch of your panties. Fuck, you're so wet. Juicy and slick and hot just for him. Again, he swallows, throat dry, eyes heavy-lidded and blown, panting like a dog as you begin to ride his fingers.

"Is that good?" He asks, cock throbbing when you throw your head back, arch your chest forward, moan like a porn star because of something he's doing to you.

He can't take it anymore, needs to have you, needs to be inside you. He pulls his fingers out too soon. You pout, but don't complain, shifting to peel your panties off before resettling in his lap. Wally has enough brain power left to check that the door is locked, the little window still covered by that Drug Prevention poster plastered all over the school for the next month.

You bring him right the fuck back into the moment by dropping down on his cock, one slick-slide move that punches a grunt from Wally's chest. You start slow, always taking your time to build a rhythm, drive him batshit fucking crazy with lust before giving him what he needs to get to the edge.

"You're such a good boy, Wally," You praise, lifting and sinking down on him again and again and again, squeezing tight around him every time, "You're so sweet, so perfect."

And, shit, he needs to hear that, his blood pumping harder, weak sounds of pleasure and gratitude released from his core, his hands clutching you like worship. Then, you start to move faster. Sharper grinds, harder drops, wet squelches telling him how close you are.

How close he got you.

"Oh, God, baby, I'm gonna come," He sobs, feet planted, hips bucking in tempo with your movements, fingernails digging into your ass cheeks, "Don't stop, fuck, baby, I'm gonna—"

It hits him like a Mack truck to the hypothalamus. He explodes inside you, crying out like a fucking princess, pumping his hips as he spends everything he has in him.

It rips your climax from you, Wally can feel it, shit, fuck, it's so good, the way you go so tight around him, a vise holding him deep inside you. The way your thighs spasm and your mouth falls open and you look at Wally like he's the most important person in the world.

Moments later, cooled down and cuddling in the afterglow, you pet his hair sweetly and kiss him with fondness; soft, loving.

"What do we do the next time you think I'm mad at you?" You say like a kindergarten teacher talking about sharing crayons.

Wally pouts, mumbles, "Talk to you about it."

You grin. "And when do we talk about it?"

"Before I get anxiety..." Wally pinches his lips together and averts his gaze.

You don't let him avoid your eyes for long, drawing his face back so he has to look at you.

"If it makes you feel any better, Wally, I honestly don't think I could ever get mad at you." You kiss the tip of his nose. "But if I do, I promise, I'd tell you straight away, okay?"

Wally nods, as solemn as he is grateful and relieved, "Okay."

You lean in, nip his earlobe and whisper, "Good boy." And suddenly he's fucking hard all over again, flipping you onto your back on the teacher's desk and showing you with his body exactly how good he can be.

🍋‍🟩___________fin.____________

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if you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy Simp..

a silly little subby Wally drabble because our clingy boo is fun to write.

Head over heels lovesick puppy Wally is my fave oh my gosh 🤭🤭

Wally with a crush is the most adorable he can get. all goofy and giddy and totally, completely, utterly involved.

he can't think about anything else, obsessive with it, and does everything in his power to make the object of his affection feel special. like, he plans things and always shows up and is an absolute Acts of Service puppy who will offer to do anything and everything under the sun if you ask him to.

he gets all silly and cuddly and his eyes go all soft when he looks at you and it's precious, especially because he can't. hide. it. no matter how much he tries when he catches himself (which isn't often, because the boy is oblivious to anything that's not you-shaped when you're around).

and he takes all the teasing from his friends in stride, wears his love like a badge of honor, but is deeply mortified if you find out he has a crush on you before he musters the nerve to tell you himself... that's when he stammers excuses until you kiss him stupid 😭

after that...well...👀

Wally Clark Headcanons 3

Reblog the writers’ fortune cookie for luck!

Hopes And Fears - Part Four. (Wally Clark x Reader)

Summary: Y/N’s death was traumatic. So traumatic in fact she can’t even look at Wally without reliving her death.

Word Count: 2.8k

Gif Not Mine. Requests Are Open!

Warnings: Mature Language, Themes Of Rape/Sexual Assault

“That was kind of harsh Rhonda.”

Charlie’s voice breaks the uncomfortable silence that has fallen upon the group. Each face holding a different expression. Rhonda full of hatred, Charlie consumed by guilt for not stepping in, Wally a mixture of surprise and discomfort.

“Do you think maybe somebody should go after her?” Dawn questions, speaking for the first time since the group session began.

Rhonda huffs, slumping down into her chair as she realises that nobody is taking sides, and if they are, they’re not taking her’s.

“Off you go then Wally, run after your precious little angel.” The girl spits, lips set in a firm scowl, eyes shooting daggers towards him.

“Rhonda!” Mr Martin snaps, though the teens aren’t listening. After all, despite being a teacher, he holds no position of authority over them in death.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Wally asks quietly, shaking his head as he does so.

“Maybe I’ve just had enough. Sixty years I’ve been here Wally! Yet nobody seems to care about how that makes me feel, all of you are just pandering to the new girl.” She shouts, slamming her hands down on the edge of her chair as she does so. Taking everyone by surprise.

“Rhonda, of course we care but you’re being really mean.” Charlie speaks softly, gazing sympathetically at the brunette girl.

“Mean? I don’t think I’ve been mean enough. I mean seriously is nobody questioning why she’s being so secretive? What doesn’t she want us to know?” Rhonda continues to push her argument in an attempt to gain a rise out of the other students. Hoping to get them to question themselves and where they stand in regards to the situation. “If you ask me, I reckon the bitch killed herself and she’s too much of a wuss to tell us.”

“That’s bang out of order Rhonda and you know it!” Wally bellows, leaping out of his chair and stomping straight over to her, hands placed on either side of her legs, caging her between himself and the back of the chair. “Don’t you ever speak about her like that again. Don’t you dare so much as look at her. Or I will make the rest of your eternity a living hell, do you understand me?”

Rhonda has no time to respond, though the frightened look on her face tells Wally all he needs to know. Without a second glance, he’s barging out the room. Launching one of the empty chairs across the gym as he does so, resulting in a large clatter though nobody really notices. All eyes fixed on the loveable jock, dumbfounded at the rage he is exhibiting. This being entirely out of character, never once in the years they had no Wally had he exploded in such a way.

Whilst each of the ghosts sits silently, all contemplating their next move in order to avoid another argument, Charlie is the first to make a move. Giving Rhonda a nervous glance, he slowly exits the gym. Asserting that his decision as to who’s side he is on has been made.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Ducking under the police tape, I’m thankful that no officers are around. Granted, I know they can’t see me, I just find it awkward to be stumbling between the living. I’ve come to realise just how much people lack spacial and self awareness.

The room is exactly as it was left, blood stains splattered on the tiled walls and floors. A glistening red in contrast with the mucky white tiles. In fact, the only change within the room is the numbered notes, I can only assume for any evidence the officers may have gathered.

I find myself perched on the end of the splintered wooden bench, lost in thought as I fixate on the scene. I’m amazed at how much blood I truly lost, assuming it would have only been small flecks. When in reality, it is everywhere. Stains from how it pooled mark the floor as well as splashes coating the walls.

My mind flashes back to that moment. Their hands on my body. The beatings I endured as I tried my best to resist. Sharp pain as I tried my hardest to close my legs. Squeals of agony escaping my mouth only to be met with a calloused hand gripping my face tightly prevent anymore noise.

It’s only when I feel a tear drip from my chin to the back of my hand that I realise I’m crying. Nothing to be heard other than my soft sniffles. Despite the memories plaguing my mind, I can’t help but feel proud at myself for returning here. It’s such a small accomplishment and yet for me, it feels as though I’ve taken a huge step forwards into fully processing what I went through. It’s a step closer to healing.

“God, I can’t believe they haven’t cleaned this up yet. I’d have thought they would want to scrub it straight away.”

Charlie’s voice takes me aback and my head spins towards the door. Noticing him shyly stood just outside of the room, almost like he doesn’t actually want to enter. An overwhelming sense of deja vu hits me and I’m reminded of our first interaction right outside.

“I don’t think they’re legally allowed to clean up. Otherwise I’m sure they’d have torn the entire building down by now.”

Shuffling over on the bench slightly, Charlie takes this as an invitation and perches beside me. The two of us staring at the crime scene.

“So I take it you were murdered.” He questions apprehensively, knowing full well what the answer is.

“I’m sorry I haven’t spoke about it yet.” I speak softly, almost afraid of what his reaction could be. I don’t want him to lose his temper like Rhonda, though I get the feeling that he doesn’t have an angry bone in his body. “Charlie, I want to talk. I do. It’s so recent though, I haven’t even been dead a month. I get that it’s shitty but I’m not ready to go into the details of it all.”

“You would think out of all of us that Rhonda would be the most understanding. She’s always been very open about her murder though.” Charlie tells me, seemingly unfazed by my lack of wanting to talk. “I get it though Y/N, you don’t owe us anything. Don’t tell Rhonda this because she’ll think I’m a complete bitch but she was strangled to death, and no offence but judging by the state of this room, your murder was a lot more brutal.”

“Let’s not turn this into a competition of who had a worse death.” I joke, feeling more relaxed due to his words. “But seriously thank you. It means a lot that you’re being so nice.”

“Of course.” The boy smiles brightly, which seems to be contagious because I can’t hold back the beam on my face either. “On a completely separate note, you should probably go and find Wally. He completely lost his shit with Rhonda after you left. Like he went full psycho, I’ve never seen him lose it like that before.”

“Fuck.” I whisper, running a hand through my hair, a habit of mine when I’m under stress. “Thanks again Charlie, I really appreciate it.”

Charlie only nods gently, watching me scurry out the room. Clearly sensing that I’m in a rush to find the footballer. Wandering around the halls of Split River, it’s only then that I realise I have no idea where Wally could be. Worry begins to seep through my pores, knowing there is endless possibilities as to where he could be. If only the school could be ten times smaller. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so challenging.

Thinking back to our previous conversations, I try to remember any hangout spots that Wally may have mentioned. Though these rarely seem to come up in conversation. We spent most of the time sprawled out in the gardens and yet there was no sign of him when I searched back there.

Huffing out of annoyance, I’m fully prepared to give up my hunt for him. At least I was. Out of the corner of my eye I become aware of the sign directing students towards the pool. Wally’s words ring in my head from earlier this morning.

“So I was thinking we could have a pool day.”

With crossed fingers and countless prayers being whispered under my breath, I stride towards the pool. Confidence boosted as I hope that my intuition is right and that he went away with his pool day solo.

My suspicions are confirmed as my eyes lay upon the handsome boy. Lost in his own thoughts as he drifts about on a pool floaty, arms tucked beneath his head and sunglasses on to block out the rest of the world. Loitering at the edge of the pool, I remain silent. Just for a moment. In order to truly appreciate this man’s beauty. He’s the most exposed I’ve ever seen him. Granted he’s only shirtless, but still I can’t help the flutter I feel in my heart (and possibly between my legs). With defined abs and toned body, he reminds me of a Greek statue, carved out of stone.

“Y/N, I’m not really in the mood to talk right now.” Wally states, as my eyes drag up his body, I’m aware that his sunglasses are now placed on his forehead and he most likely just caught me gazing at his physique.

“I know, neither am I.” I admit, sitting down at the edge of the pool, pulling my shoes off and throwing them behind me so that I can dip my feel it in the lukewarm water. “But I do owe you an apology.”

This catches his attention and I see his eyebrows raise, eyes darting over to me. Wally looks sad. There’s no other way for me to describe it. I’ve seen him sulk and upset before. However, he looks worse than I’ve ever seen.

“Rhonda’s words really hit me. I never meant to make you feel like you’d done anything wrong. I’m so sorry for making you feel that way. You don’t need to try to make me feel less threatened. I know you don’t have a cruel heart.” I admit, voice shaky as I genuinely have no idea as to how he will react. “It’s no excuse, but I was struggling a lot those first couple of days and I guess I took it out of you and you didn’t deserve that. So I really hope you’ll forgive me. I also thought I should probably mention that you don’t have to stop wearing your football stuff because of me. You love it, I don’t want you to feel as though you can’t wear it because I’m going to have a breakdown.”

Swinging my feet in the water slowly, I keep myself focused on this rather than Wally who floats a few feet away. His silence scares me slightly and I know that if I even look at him, I may burst into tears. I never meant to hurt him. I really didn’t.

“Rhonda’s full of bullshit.”

I’m shocked when he speaks, purely because I thought he was mad at me. I’m even more shocked when I understand what he’s said. Never once hearing Wally say a bad thing about someone and here he is calling out one of the ghosts he’s known the longest.

“What?” I’m completely puzzled by what he just said, not knowing what he means by it and whether he means that what Rhonda said wasn’t true. My tone reflects this and when I go to look up at him, he’s already slipping off the floaty and swimming towards me.

“I said Rhonda’s full of bullshit.” He’s pretty much beside me now, arms crossed as they rest against the edge of the pool next to me. It’s the closest we’ve ever been to one another and I can’t deny the way my heart races right now. Not even one ounce of fear resides within me despite our close proximity. Maybe I am doing better now? “I like spending time with you Y/N. I wasn’t trying to make you feel less threatened. Yeah, I wanted you to feel welcome and to know I mean no harm but that was it. All the time I’ve spent with you is because I wanted to, I enjoy it.”

“So you’re not mad at me?”

He laughs faintly. “No, I’m not mad at you. Thank you for the apology but you really didn’t have to say anything.”

I cannot even begin to describe how relieved I am that the ghost isn’t mad at me. For a moment back there, I was prepared to spend eternity alone, thinking everybody had turned their backs on me. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case and I potentially let myself overthink without speaking to anybody under less tense circumstances.

Grateful to have resolved things with Charlie and Wally, the only person left is Rhonda. However, something tells me that she might need some time. I doubt seeking her out is the best course of action right now and she probably needs space to cool off. So, for now, I’m happy to sit here and bask in the peace once more.

“So, a pool day for one isn’t exactly the most exciting and fun time.” Wally mentions, splashing a small amount of water at me.

“No I can’t imagine it is.” I reply, he swims backwards, a silent request for me to join him in the water. Which I’m happy to oblige.

Stripping off my clothes, I dump them on one of the seats. Out of the way of the pool edge in the hopes that they remain dry. Left only in my underwear, a lacy red bralette with matching thong, I thank my lucky stars that the day I died was one of the days I wore a decent set.

A shaky breath leaves my mouth as I turn around to face Wally. It’s the most vulnerable I’ve felt since getting here and I am anxious. Afraid of any judgement from Wally and afraid of being so exposed. All of these thoughts vanish instantly when Wally’s eyes begin to trail my body. Flashing with desire. He doesn’t think I’ve noticed, though I don’t miss the barely there whistle that escapes under his breath.

“Are you gonna move out of the way or what?” I ask, hands on my hips as I wait for him to move to one side.

He does so with no complaint and I sprint forward, diving straight beneath the water and surfacing with a gasp for air. Pulling my hair out of my face, I find myself only a few inches away from Wally and take the opportunity to splash the water in his direction. After all, it’s only fair that I take my revenge.

“Oh this is war.” Wally yelps after being pelted in the face again by another large splash.

We’re both rocked against the waves that the battle has created. Huge splashes attacking each other alternatively, repeatedly in hopes of taking the other person down. I’m completely unaware that the force of the water is slowly bringing us closer together and before I know it we’re face to face. Noses practically touching one another.

“I think I win.” He whispers, sopping wet hair pushed back off his forehead, small curls beginning to form.

“Never.”

He’s focused on me, chestnut brown eyes piercing into my soul. I daren’t think too much, scared he can read my mind with the force of his gaze. A sudden surge of bravery must overcome him as he gently reaches out, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. His touch is soft, as light as a feather. Like he’s scared I’ll pull away. It’s the first time we’ve ever made physical contact and though the act is so sweet and innocent, my heart flutters at the intimacy of it.

His hand is delicate as it moves from my hair, gliding down my cheek to hold it lovingly. It’s then that I notice his eyes flickering down to my lips, silently asking for permission. As much as my heart desires his touch and his affection, something in my mind can’t let go. It won’t allow me to take that step further and so I reluctantly pull away. The move quick as I break out of his gentle hold.

“I’m gonna go dry off in the sun.” The words spill out of my mouth, faster than I intended. Wally tries his best to hide it but I spot the disappointment clear on his face. Obviously hoping that this could have gone further.

If only I was able to articulate to him just how much I wanted to take things further as well. For now though, we’ll stay friends.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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Period Comfort Headcanons

Alive!Wally Clark x Alive!Reader (Modern AU)

Warings: Not much just basic period stuff and a lot of fluff.

-

This sweet sweet boy would probably be confused on what to do. He's not completely lost, he knows the basics like pads, tampons, mood swings, cramps, and cravings but that's where his knowledge ends. 

I feel like he's the type to freak out. Like genuine visible terrier when you tell him. Would cry if you told him how a period actually works. “Your fucking uterine lining sheds?!” Said as tears build in his eyes. 

For the love of everything do NOT send this man to the store to get you menstrual products. He will call you 50 million times to make sure he gets the right thing and will still come home with the complete opposite of what you asked for. It’s not his fault he's not used to this stuff. 

He’d also call his mom for help. She’d be the one to tell him about pain killers and heating pads. She’d make you boiling hot soup or hot cocoa to help with the pain. 

Snack galore. Will 100% go out at 3 in the morning to buy you a McFlurry. He hates seeing you in pain so if he can do anything to help he will and if that means sacrificing his sleep he doesn't care. 

Cuddles cuddles CUDDLES. This man is a living (just pretend) breathing furnace. Forget a heating pad, just have him lay on top of you. He’d keep his hand on your abdomen at all times.

He’d make you a little basket filled with snacks and products. (Once he finally learns what you use) He’d even write you a little card that says ‘I’m sorry your body’s torturing you.’ 

Would wear matching pjs and do skin care with you while you two watch a movie. He’d do this regardless of if you're on your period or not but especially when you're on your period. 

I know for a fact this man doesn't know how to cook but he’d try for you. When he inevitably burns the food he just buys take out. It’s the thought that counts. 

All in all he's trying and once he figures it out he's amazing. Just be patient with him because he’d feel so bad for you. 

(Okay thats all, sorry if it's shit. I was gonna do valentine day headcanons but according to my app i start my period tomorrow and need to cope 🥲)

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)

-

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.

I really wanna write Simon Elroy smut headcanons but I can't grasp at if this mans a freak or not. SEND HELP!!! 🙏🏻😭

Starting a collection

Reader: I'm seeing someone.

Simon: As in dating or as in dead people?

Reader: Yes

(October Moon by @whoopsyeahokay incorrect quote because I thought it fit too well)