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Wally Clark Headcanons - 3

(request)

Wally is obsessed with you. Probably to the extent he should seek help, but he doesn't care. He's happy. More than happy, in fact. He's in love.

He could spend every second of every minute of every day in your company and never get tired of it. Never need space or moments alone or time apart. Wally doesn't want that. Call him codependent, he doesn't give a fuck, he's so into you it borders on insane.

Which is why, when you and he do have to separate—aka: surgically fucking removing him from your presence—he's like a puppy left alone at home. Watching the door, pacing the house, counting down along with the clock until you come back. Chin on paws, soulful eyes begging the universe to bring you back now, please.

He watches TV, throws some hoops, showers, eats; manic and anxious and needy. And, yeah, Wally's totally capable of doing his own thing. He has the other ghosts to chill with; has pastimes Mr. Martin had encouraged over the decades Wally's been dead. He did stuff without you before you came along, and could do that stuff again.

But going back to anything after experiencing how vibrant his world is with you in it...nothing holds a candle. It's all boring and cheap and unappealing. So, he pouts, bounces his knee, annoys the crap out of Rhonda who's trying to read a book while Wally stares at the same word in his for the next forty-five minutes.

You and Maddie spent the day searching for clues in Maddie's murder case, a girls' day spent stalking Claire without Wally because Maddie was opening up to you more without anyone else around, and you wanted to help.

Wally's sweet, beautiful saint.

He makes a grumpy little noise that Rhonda rolls her eyes at.

Finally, finally, the library door opens. No time to say hello, already hoisted into Wally's arms after he torpedoes straight for you the instant you step inside. He cradles you close, kisses your face, hair, neck, giddy that you're back.

"How was it? Did you find anything? Did you miss me? I missed you."

Babbling and eager and wanting to hear your voice. You giggle (which he likes more), and he smiles back at you, big and excited, though his eyes are soft.

"It's been, like, an hour, Wally." You remind him, and he huffs.

"Longest hour of my life." He complains, to which Rhonda seconds under her breath.

He sneers at her, but his expression melts into complete adoration when you pull his attention back to you.

"How about we go relax for a bit, huh? The faculty lounge is empty..." You suggest and he's already moving, not letting you down, just carrying you like a toddler down the hall and through the door to the faculty lounge.

Wally loves cuddling with you. Doesn't even need things to go further to feel satisfied. You sit with your back against the armrest. Wally fits himself between your legs and rests his head on your chest, nuzzling into you and humming contentedly.

This is what he was made for, he believes wholeheartedly. To be yours. Built by the universe just for you because he can't imagine being anything else. He's been his own person for enough years; he's fine. Been there. Done that.

Now and well into beyond—for the rest of fucking time—all Wally wants is to be a piece of you.

And you absolutely let him soak you in whenever he wants because he's been through hell and needs unconditional love like fish need water.

Look at that face. I dare you to say no.

If you want to cry over how adorable Wally is, read this ASAP

Punctuation.

summary: prompt fill. it's that dreaded time of the month and you're miserable. thankfully, you have the most thoughtful, adorable boyfriend in Wally Clark, and he isn't going to let you suffer alone. (request)

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: fluff. drabble. period fic. feelgood. cuddles and romance.

bon reading, frens

___________________________❣️

Punctuation.

You groan, rolling out of bed with a pained expression. Hand on your belly and lower back aching, and everything sucks so why is someone at the door bothering you now!? Ugh.

It's gruesome Day 2, the worst of the seven. You haven't had the energy to bathe or eat or, Jesus, sleep because, apparently, God hates you and when your body is in agony, sleep isn't required. Stay awake, stare at the ceiling, cry at videos of adorable old men loving their wives, and live with it.

All part of being a woman, your grandmother says without sympathy. As if your body going to war with itself should be dismissed and you should just control and manage and ignore. Yeah, fuck that to hell and back, thanks.

With a frustrated whimper, you pull the front door open and scowl at the figure on your doorstep.

"Hey, baby."

And that scowl melts into a pout—lower lip jutted all the way out, brow knitted, eyes glittering with affected emotion. You slump forward, arms lax at your sides, and whine pitifully into Wally's chest.

One of his big hands cups the back of your head, and at the same time, you feel his lips press into your hair. You hear the rustle of plastic; smell the aroma of your favorite fast food place, and peek out of the corner of your eye to see the two bags Wally's holding. Stuffed full to bursting. Just for you.

Again, you press out a weak whimper and burrow deeper into him, body against his, face hidden in his collar.

"I'm smelly and gross and everything hurts." You complain.

He chuckles, kisses your head again before encouraging you to lean back so he can look at you.

"You're a goddess, baby, shut up." He tells you like you should know that by now. "Come on, let me make it a little better."

You shuffle back inside, stop suddenly, and stand there with your arms around your middle when another sharp cut of period cramps hits like electrocution. As the wave descends, Wally—who must've deposited the bags somewhere—gathers you in his arms and carries you, bridal-style, upstairs.

"I'm not a damsel in distress," You grouch because you can.

"You're right," Wally says, tone deceptively neutral, "You're a little dragon in distress."

You scowl up at him, but he simply grins back, boyish and bright and sparkly-eyed. He deposits you on your unmade bed, tucks you back in, and kisses your forehead. Nuzzles his nose against yours before leaning back to gaze at you. Soft. Sweet. Stupid, you grouse, since you're matted in last night's sweat and greasy and he shouldn't be looking at you like that when you're a mess, it makes every time he calls you cute or pretty feel like a lie, is he a liar—

"You're spiraling, baby, I can hear it from out here." Wally chuckles quietly, booping the tip of your nose and then cradling your jaw. He strokes your cheek softly with his thumb, back and forth, soothing, "Stay here, I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?"

Defiant. "No." But he rolls his eyes playfully and tucks you more tightly into your bed. Pecks kisses all over you face until you giggle and relent, relaxing into the warm cocoon to settle while he wanders off and does whatever it is he came over to do.

Your parents are out of town for the weekend, so you've been left to suffer alone. Something you told Wally last night when the headache came out of nowhere, and suddenly there was a crime scene in your underwear.

Right in the bin. Along with the new leggings you just bought last week with Claire, since you cannot be bothered to do a whole cold-wash cycle for a stain that ghastly.

Ten minutes later, and you're dozing. Wally comes in, gently rouses you with more kisses and soft pets to your hair, words whispered against your skin as he rolls you onto your back.

"You wanna walk, or you want me to carry you?" He asks, to which you raise your arms and blink big cow-eyes at him.

Hey, if he's going to be accommodating, let it happen, right? You're in no position to argue, anyway, face pinching in pain when another roll of cramps rises in your belly and lower back simultaneously.

"I hate my body," You whimper, face tucked into his neck, "I hate everything." Except, "Not you, you're okay."

Wally laughs, "Thanks, baby."

He sets you down on the vanity, slowly peels off your layers, not at all disgusted or shy or embarrassed when he helps you out of your underwear. As if it's totally normal. Just, whoop, bundles up the pad and drops it in the bin beside the sink, helping you into the warm bubble bath he ran for you before he collects your dirty clothes and disappears to put them in your hamper.

It takes awhile, but eventually he comes back, and Wally's carrying a bottle of painkillers and what looks like a fancy bottle of the bodywash you finished last week. You perk up, lifting your upper body out of the water. He manifests a water bottle—pulled from his deep back pocket—and hands you a couple of pills along with it.

"Here, take these. The lady said they're way better than what you've been taking."

You want to cry. So you do. Tears fat and wet, lashes starred, blubbering through a mouthful of water as you swallow the painkillers. By now, you're not even surprised when he strips down to nothing and adjusts you so he can slip into the bath behind you. Long legs on either side of you, hands gentle on your hips, lips planting little kisses across the slope of your shoulder, up your neck to your ear.

"You wanna wash your hair now or later?"

"Now." You murmur, sinking into him.

It's a process that involves the detachable faucet, draining the bath a little, and then letting it fill again after the conditioner is rinsed, and Wally does it all while chatting to you about what he got up to last night with Rodney and Ajay. Breezy and cheerful and not even an iota of annoyance when you paw at him to let you slosh into his lap so he can wash your back while you cling to him like a koala.

He's not even hard which makes you feel insecure way too fast, the feeling sharp and burning and you start to tear up again, because what do you mean your boyfriend isn't attracted to you when you're wet and soapy and naked!?

But he reassures, "Baby, you're the hottest thing on earth, and I was hard five minutes ago, but I've been repeating fucking football stats in my head because you're in pain and I love you."

"Fine." You grumble, and, yeah, you believe it. Wally doesn't lie to make you feel better ever, so you kind of have to.

Bath done, he dries you off—quick and efficient as time is of the essence. He brought in clean underwear and gets you a fresh pad from the drawer by the toilet, turns around when you ask him not to look while you assemble yourself.

Then he's back, hands rubbing body butter into your muscles before he so much as pulls on his boxer-briefs. You're my priority, pretty girl, he murmurs, following you back to your bedroom to get dressed.

Your bedroom that is tidy, bed outfitted in clean sheets—you can hear the washer going downstairs—and he even brought over that massive band shirt he's had since he was a chubby freshman. You know, the one you often steal because it smells like him.

When you ram into him for a hug, Wally laughs, delighted to have made your day a little better.

"Alright, baby, do you wanna do bed or living room?"

"Living room," You decide, feeling more human, and wanting to let your room air out a bit.

He takes you by the hand, letting you walk under your own power now that the painkillers have kicked in and your muscles don't feel so stiff. Down the stairs to the fucking nest he made on the living room floor. The couch is pulled apart, cushions joined under a fitted sheet, pillows and blankets from the guest room piled on top. Beside it, the coffee table is laden with a combination of your favorite snacks and his, as well as the takeout you smelled earlier.

There's even tea. In a pot. Under a cozy. A new mug sitting beside it with a bright pink rose leaning against it.

Your lower lip wobbles. He doesn't give you a second to break down, merely swoops you into his arms again, steps onto the makeshift bed, crosses his legs, and drops onto his bum with you securely in his lap.

"Nope," He commands, "You're supposed to be worshipped, baby, it's the law. You can make life. And that means you need to be pampered."

"But you—"

"Love and cherish you?" Wally interrupts with a goofy grin, "Yeah, you're right. I do. So, suck it up and let me love you."

Releasing a heavy, almost grouchy sigh, you resign. He releases you so you can find a comfortable position; between his legs, his back against the bottom of the couch. You pick at your takeout order in your lap while he lists the names of your favorite comfort movies.

"Ever After," You announce once he's rattled it off. "And then Bridget Jones."

"You got it, baby girl," He smacks a silly, sloppy kiss to your cheek, pushing your whole body to the side.

Giggling, "Watch my food!" You scold, but Wally keeps smiling at you, eyes tender and filled with affection.

"I promise to get you more if I spill anything, okay?"

That pleases you enough to share a fry with him, feeding it to him when he opens his mouth for it.

"But that's it, the rest is mine."

He holds one hand up in surrender, "I'm not gonna argue," while he uses his other hand to massage your hip.

Wally spends the rest of the day coddling and doting on you, at your beck and call before you even ask for anything. Up to get you more painkillers when the first round wears off. Offering a back rub, fetching the hot water bottle, holding your hand when you feel suffocated in the house and sniffle that you want to go for a walk around the block.

No complaints. No judgment. Just unconditional thereness and support. And ice cream. Lots of ice cream...

❣️___________fin.____________

also on AO3!

if you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy Wally Clark Headcanons - 3.

an affectionate, fluffy little glimpse into our favorite ghost's mind when he's completely obsessing over you.

Save a horse ride a cowboy 🤭

ʚ♡ɞ˚ 𝑺𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝑺𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ʚ♡ɞ˚

✮ NAVIGATION ✮

⋆˚✿˖° STORIES ⋆˚✿˖°

Split Rivers Sweetheart // Wally Clark x show choir! reader

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ SHORTS // HEADCANNONS ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Stay // Wally Clark x Reader

Jealousy looks good on you // Wally Clark x reader

Game of Pride // Wally Clark x reader

I’m not used to someone giving a damn // wally clark x reader

Need this man BIBLICALLY

Also look how adorable Peyton is in the back. Love her too

You Belong with Me 💙🏈📖

Wally clark x fem reader Y/N slow burn story

Part 11:

This part is back to the original format (so when you read “you” or “I’ it’s back to your character POV)

Summary:

It’s the day after the Halloween dance and you wake up in the teachers’ lounge, not in your costume with no recollection on how you got there, as you search for answers you confide in Wally about your death.

You wake up on the couch in the teachers’ lounge with no idea how you ended up there. You get up and see teachers around buy no ghosts. You look down and see you are no longer in your costume. What the fuck you thought to yourself. What happened. Eager for answers you get up and roam the halls until you find someone to hopefully refresh your memory. You spot Dawn sitting in her usual spot on the library book return cubby. “Dawn, what happened to me last night do you know?” you asked her frantic. She lets out a laugh. “Oh, you were hyped up on sugar, like I’ve never seen before. You ran around the gym until you crashed on some chairs.” “I did what? How was I so hyped up on sugar? I thought it would reset.” You say confused. “I have no clue, but it was funny. Wally was chasing after you to try to help but you kept out running him. Which is even more funny since he’s a jock.” She replied still laughing. “I- huh I don’t- “you stutter, stunned at her confession of the night before. Just as you were about to go find Wally, Rhonda turns around the corner and imminently laughs at you “Hi their Road Runner, you were hilarious last night.” “So, I have been told I still don’t. understand what the fuck happened. How did I get so hyped up on candy? I thought it resets. And how the hell did I end up in my clothes asleep in the teachers lounge?” you reply all hysterical and confused. “I don’t know about the hyper sugar thing, but I can tell you that after you crashed on the pile of chairs, Wally carried you out of the gym and he obviously changed you.” Rhonda reply’s still giggling about the thought of you last night. You shouldn’t be surprised that it was Wally that took care of you. He was always so kind and looking out for you ever since you were kids, that was one of the reasons why you love him so much.  “Thanks. I’m going to go find him and I guess Mr Martin as to why I was so hyper last night.” You say. You leave and walk toward the cafeteria in search for Wally.

Once again you can’t find him. Where the hell are you, Wally? You thought to yourself. You head to your spot up on the school roof and there you spot him as he looks deep in his thoughts. “Hey, you” you say as you approach him as he lifts his head up. “Gosh, I didn’t think you were ever waking up today. Its nearly lunch.” He says. You thought to yourself, huh, he didn’t bring up last night first thing and laugh at you about it. You sat beside him, body facing his. “I wanted to say thank you. Dawn and Rhonda said you helped me last night when I was all hyper.” “Of course, I was going to look after you Darling, it’s what best friends are for. I have never seen you eat so much candy in ages not since you got that diabetes scare when you were 8.” He replies in a soft tone. “Yeah, it was weird I didn’t reset or something I don’t know. But I appreciate it Walls.” You utter. “I might need to go find Mr Martin to get some answers.” ‘Speaking of him” Wally says. “He asked me last night if we have given more thought of us writing our obituaries. He said it will help us heal.” Silence falls between you two until he says “You haven’t even told me about how it happened. I just now that you got hit by a car after seeing me die.” “It’s been hard, trying to come to terms with it, but I’m ready to tell you how it happened.” You say.

You give him every detail, how you felt when you saw his death, how heartbroken you were losing him, being so numb from the pain that even walking was hard. Tears stream down your face and you can see Wally is fighting back his tears but failing miserably. “My mom had to actually drag me away from your body because I refused to leave you.” You say choking on tears. “When she did and we left, she had to use the bathroom and I went to the car, I just put my Walkman on starting to listen to music when a car was speeding in the parking lot and hit me and that was it. Next thing I woke up on the ground, saw a crowd of people around and I can hear my mom screaming holding a body and then I realised it was me. And then I saw you.” You say as you wipe your tears with your sweater. Wally doesn’t know what to say all he does his wraps his arms around you and give you the warmest hug imaginable as you continued to sob into his chest. You and him just sit there, in each other’s arms until you notice the sun has started to set. “You know I actually feel lighter getting that all of my chest. Maybe Mr Martin is right, maybe we should start writing our obituaries?” You ask. “Yeah, if you’re sure Darling we can go find him.” Wally responds. You two get up and head down the stairs, off the roof to talk to him.

Part 10 Part 12

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