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alternative account so i sadly can not respond to comments :( || fanfiction, requests are open

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wintervalewriter masterlist

requests are currently OPEN!

call of duty masterlist

simon ghost riley, johnny soap mactavish, john price, kyle gaz garrick, alejandro vargas

wednesday masterlist

rowan laslow, xavier thorpe, wednesday addams, ajax petropolus

stranger things masterlist

eddie munson, gareth emerson, steve harrington, billy hargrove

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tbosas fics

i watched the movie and am now reading the books so if there are any reqs... >:)

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a ghost x fem!reader, who was a southern accent and ghost and 141 teases her a lot. could be smutty or fluff, either way!! tysm <3 luv ur writing!

thank you so much for requesting <3 i just posted it, you can read it HERE!

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texas, baby - simon 'ghost' riley

requested: yes, requests are OPEN! request: a ghost x fem!reader, who was a southern accent and ghost and 141 teases her a lot. could be smutty or fluff, either way!! tysm <3 luv ur writing!

A/N: thank you so much!! <3 i am not a native english speaker, so i had to use google for some research, if anything is wrong, please let me know! i am assuming you meant like a southern american/texas-ish accent, if that is not what you meant, please let me know! <3

wordcount: 1,666 warnings: she/her reader, badly written southern accent, characters may be ooc as i have not really written for them before, graves didnt betray 141, probably wrong information about army-related things

Shadow Company seems to attract lots of people with Southern accents, something that is a big shock for the (mainly) British Task Force 141.

It had been quite the day. Under the request, or rather, command of Shepherd, Task Force 141 and Shadow Company were placed in the same base. This entire day was one of the days that was fully scheduled with training. Shooting, hand-to-hand, running - all of the good stuff.

Some of the men on your team were complaining about needing to share a base with 141, being all territorial and saying that those Brits didn't fit in with Shadow Company. You, however, could not be happier.

You and Simon Riley, Task Force 141's Lieutenant, have been together for a long time. Neither of you spoke of one another too often though - it would only cause distraction for the both of you. Your respective teams knew you were taken, but not exactly with who, when, or how. You were kind of glad that you weren't on the same teams. The amount of trouble (and paperwork) it would take for the relationship to work would be insane. Besides, you don't think any of your higher ups would appreciate it very much.

"Sergeant Y/L/N."

A knock on your door before it opens, your commander Philip Graves leaning against the wall. You were sat on the bed in your room, simply flipping through a book as you hum, standing up.

"Task Force invited us for a night out," he hums, "Seems that they want to party. Entire Shadow Company has been invited."

"Ah," you close the book, "Ain't that something. When are we leaving?"

"Give it about fifteen minutes. That fine with you?"

You nod, throwing the book back onto the bed before heading for your closet. Nothing too fancy - it is only a fun night out. It is going to be fun to meet the people that your boyfriend works with. After all, he literally trusts them with his life. You had not seen them too much this week, all of you being much too busy training and working out. A night to a club or bar could do you good.

After exactly fifteen minutes, Graves stands at your door again, changed into something more comfortable.

"Ready to go?"

"Course, commander."

Multiple trucks are lined up, ready for all of you guys to go in. The pub that you were planning to go to wasn't too far away, a mere 10 minute drive. You suspected that you would be the one driving back - your team could get carried away on nights out.

The pub is busy, music and chattering can be heard from meters away.

"Alright, play it nice, y'all," Philip looks at his team, nearly scolding them as if they are bad children, "Task Force 141 are our brothers. We fight with them, not against them. I don't want no fights tonight."

Some grunts can be heard as the other truck pulls up next to yours, every member of the 141 in there. The first one to get out is the captain, Price. Followed by the people you know as Gaz, Soap, and finally, Ghost. No skull balaclava on this time, but a simple, black, surgical mask. It doesn't look too out of the ordinary.

You look at him, licking your lips before nodding, a smile on your face. He does not say anything, only nodding in return as the entire group makes its way to the pub.

141 and Shadow Company don't really mix for the first half hour. You stand with Graves, talking about God knows what, while the rest are all sitting at their own tables. The tables are right next to each other, though, so that is at least one step.

"'M gonna get another drink," you nod as Graves takes a sip of his.

You had finished your glass a while back and you noticed that Ghost, who sat a few meters behind you, has also been looking at his empty glass for a while.

"Could I get another one of these, and a bourbon, please?"

With the two glasses, you walk over to the Task Force table, placing the glass in front of Ghost.

"Can't have ya without a drink, can I?"

The men look up, slightly confused, but more so surprised. Not only did they not really expect to hang out with the Shadows all too much this night, but your southern accent is a big contrast to their British ones. They, however, don't say anything about it though.

"Bourbon?"

"'Course," you nod, sipping your own glass, "Hafta make sure you stay hydrated, LT. Room for one more?"

Ghost takes the glass from you, scooting over in order to make place. It is a bit of a squeeze, but you have been closer to Simon than this. He glances at your glass for a second before sipping from his.

"Y/N, this is Price, Soap," he nods his head to the people at the table, "and Gaz. Mates, this is Y/N."

"Nice to meet ya."

Soap looks at Price for a second, but the older man discreetly shakes his head before returning to his beer. He can almost hear Soap thinking about a funny comment he could make, but he really can not be arsed to get into trouble.

"How do ye know big ol' Simon here, Y/N?"

"We go way back," you nod, "Have ya not told anyone about me, Simon?"

He only grunts, shaking his head before taking another sip of his drink. He would have, but he knows Soap will try and meddle into his personal life, something he would rather keep separated from work.

"Well, if he hasn't told ya, then I can't either. Secrets and all."

Soap lets out a laugh, shaking his head as he tries to stop his chuckles by drinking from his glass. The way you speak is so unlike he has heard before, and it is quite amusing to him.

"What's so funny, Johnny?"

"Nothing. I just think wee miss Y/N just has a very specific way of speaking."

"Wee miss?" You snort, "Real cute, Soap. How'd'ya get that name anyway?"

"It's not like Soap is a weird name," he responds, "What is your name then, bonnie? Cowboy? Yeehaw?"

"Cowboy is already taken by Graves, I fear."

"What is it then?"

"It's need to know."

It makes Soap shake his head, Price looking at him with an amused grin.

"I think Soap is just a bit confused, mate is not very good at understanding British accents already, let alone anything outside of that."

The Scot looks offended, Gaz only smirking as he shrugs.

"I hafta say that I'm happy y'all are amused," you nod, "But 'm gonna need more alcohol in my system to handle this. Sadly, I have been picked for designated driver."

You look back at the table behind you, most of the Shadows being surrounded by empty glasses, full ones in their hands. God, this is going to be a long night.

"Anyway, 'm going to smoke. Care to join?"

Simon immediately nods, standing up before guiding you outside, ignoring the curious looks from his squad mates. He is sure that Soap is going to be bugging him with questions later, so some relaxation before that would be nice.

"Did ya take your own pack?"

You pull out a cigarette, lighting it as you look over at the tall man next to you. He shakes his head. He has not had a smoke in a while, and the last pack he had got crumbled in his pocket. You inhale the smoke, holding out the cigarette to Simon who carefully takes it out of your hand. It is quiet, calm, silent. But not uncomfortable.

The cigarette gets shared between the two of you, and once it dies down, you pull another from your pocket. This time, Simon lights it, and once he inhales the smoke himself, he places the cigarette between your lips while still holding onto it. You look up at him, letting out a laugh before now inhaling it yourself.

"I missed ya, y'know?"

You had not seen him in a long time, and because most people did not know about your history, they also did not think about it. Graves knows that you and Simon are familiar, but that is where it all ends.

"Missed you too," he mumbles, his voice low and gravely.

Another cigarette bud lands next to your feet as you let out a sigh. It is a bit cold outside, but being here is just a bit better than being inside of the hot pub filled with drunk soldiers. You just hope that the rest of your team wants to leave soon.

"Sorry for my mates," Simon starts, "Soap is a bit odd sometimes."

You shake your head.

"No problem, Simon. Woulda done the same," you laugh, "Aint like I heard a Scottish accent like that before."

You rest your head on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you, both sitting on the pavement outside. The breeze is a bit cold, but Simon is warm enough to keep you from freezing.

Ten minutes of silence pass before you clear your throat.

"Guess we hafta go back in, huh?"

He doesn't want to.

He wants to stay here, with you.

"Guess so."

Both of you stand up, your hand holding onto his as you look up at him with adoration in your eyes. You truly have missed him. He looks back down at you, the streetlight shining in his eyes, before softly pressing a kiss to your lips. God, it has been too long.

You kiss him back, of course, one hand holding his as the other is on his cheek. Maybe working with Task Force 141 is not going to be that bad after all. It is not until you pull away that Simon groans, his eyes now set on the door of the bar. In the opening stands Soap, a glass in his hand, and a real big grin on his face.

"Fuckin' hell."

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tears to shed iv - simon 'ghost' riley

masterlist // masterlist call of duty

requested: no, but requests are OPEN! request: x

A/N: last part! hope this makes up for the sad ending last part &lt;3

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4

wordcount: warnings: ooc simon (like, very ooc), corpse bride au, she/her reader, happy ending

An arranged marriage to unite two worlds. But no one would have expected that it would bring together the living and the dead.

Your parents were much happier to hear that they were up in the social ladder now than that they were to hear that you had come back. Lord and Lady MacTavish also could not care less - as long as they got money, they would be set.

It is not like life with Johnny was bad. Not at all, actually. You had fun with him, and he was someone you feel comfortable with. He is so trustworthy, funny, and nice. It truly could have been so much worse.

The years pass, new people coming to the town, other people leaving. Babies are being born and elderly people are passing away. You aren't scared of death anymore - you have lived in it, you have loved in it.

Marriage to Johnny is like marrying a best friend. Both you and Johnny found out quite early on that you did love each other, yet more like friends or family instead of lovers. Not that you thought the other was ugly, mean, or uninteresting. It was just platonic, but to be quite honest, you did not mind.

You could be on the street, or worse, married to a horrible person. Lucky for you, you are 'stuck' with Johnny. Every single day felt refreshing, always going on trips or eating a delicious dinner. Your mother and father barely came to visit, saying they were much too busy with their new way of life. Lord and Lady MacTavish were also not seen very often, always far away, enjoying the money they now had.

Years seem to fly by.

The older you get, the faster time goes.

Your body is becoming weaker, the people around you have left, and the house feels much too big for only two people. It is winter now, and sickness is going around, a sickness that had also gotten the better of Johnny.

You sat by his side, his body covered with endless blankets, coughs coming from him ever so often.

"You are burning up," you mumble, your hand on his forehead.

He does not respond, only looking at the ceiling before finally turning his head to you. This is the most movement he has gone through this entire week. Johnny stays quiet for a moment, blinking slowly before licking his lips.

"Is the afterlife scary?"

"No," you softly say, taking hold of his hand, "It is fun, free, careless. You will have your own place, and you can have endless drinks at the bar. It is colourful and bright."

He hums, his hand softly squeezing yours as he looks past you.

"I think I would like to go there."

Your breath hitches in your throat, tears burning in your eyes as you look at him, bringing your other hand to his cheek.

"You do?"

Nothing but a hum yet again, his eyes looking past you.

"Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"Will you find me there?"

You nod, pressing a kiss to his hand.

"I will."

"Can you promise me something?"

Your heart feels heavy.

"Anything."

"After you find me... Also find Simon. That one man from years ago," he whispers, coughing, "If it... If it truly is as you said, then please, find him. Live the life you couldn't live now."

"Johnny," a tear falls down your cheek, "You are acting as if my life with you was not good."

"Oh, lass, we had a wonderful life. But the afterlife you describe... It is your second chance. Take it, please."

One last promise you make to him. Through sickness, through health, till death do you part.

"I promise you, Johnny. I love you so."

"And I love you."

After one last breath, one last blink, he leaves you. Leaves you behind as you did that one night, though you know he will not come back. More tears fall down your cheeks as you press a soft kiss to his forehead. Another friend lost.

You then spent months alone. No visitors, no Johnny, no parents.

It was weird.

The world seems so grey, so bleak, so colourless. There is nothing for you here. You eat just to eat, you read just to read. Everything seems meaningless. Another night where you go to sleep in a cold bed.

But this time, when you wake up, you feel different.

Your bones don't hurt, your limbs don't feel heavy, your hair doesn't feel brittle. Instead, you feel lively, weightless, free.

"A new arrival!"

Is the time finally here?

You open your eyes, the lights very bright, and you nearly can not believe what you see. It's the bar, the people, the music, the drinks.

"Wait..."

You quickly turn around, coming eye to eye with Johnny.

"Lass?"

You nod slowly, a smile forming on your face as you fling your arms around him.

"Oh, Johnny!" You pull away from him for a second, your hands on his cheeks, "I can't believe it! Oh, you look so young."

He does not nearly look the same as when you last saw him. His skin isn't wrinkly, his eyes are bright, and he has the same silly haircut.

"Says you," he grins, holding out his cup to you, "You look as mighty as ever."

You look at his cup and back at him. You are actually here. But, if you are... Is Simon here as well? Johnny still has a smile on his face, taking a swig from his beer. He knows what, or rather who, you are looking for.

"Go on," he nods his head to the exit, "We will have eternity to celebrate that you're here. Go, we can talk later."

You press a kiss to his cheek, nodding as you lift up the bottom of your skirt, walking up the stairs that lead to the outside of the bar. You are met with a mirror, right next to the door. You look so much younger, almost as if no time had passed. Dressed in a nightgown, your hair done up, looking youthful as ever. The age when you first got here, gone back in time, just like Johnny.

The roads, the coffins, the lights - all are exactly as you remember them being. You have dreamt of taking this exact walk dozens of times, clenching onto the dogtags that you had yet to take off. Now, you actually walk there, the tags tight in your hand. A left here, straight, and then...

You are so absorbed by your own thoughts that you do not register the person in front of you. You yelp, nearly falling over, but catching yourself by holding onto a crate.

"Oh, sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going!"

"Y/N?"

You look up, you know that voice...

"Price?"

"I can't believe it!" He laughs, pulling you to him to give you a big hug, "You are here! Oh my god, wait until Simon hears about this. You are going to give him a heart attack!"

"Where is he?"

"At home," he backs off, nodding his head into the direction of the house, "Hasn't been out too much. Kept his mask back on, been in a real mood for a while. You know, he never got over you."

He still thinks of you?

"Neither have I," you whisper, looking up at the man.

"Oh, I know," he only shrugs, "Johnny and I have become well acquainted over these months. Sadly haven't been able to really talk to Simon too much, but I think that might change."

The two of you continue your way, only a few doors away from the love of your afterlife. What if he doesn't want to see you? What if you are not like how he expected? Maybe he does not wish for a life with you.

"Don't worry your little head, Y/N," Price whispers, stopping at the door, "I will leave you be. Come by the bar later?"

You nod, sending him a smile as he leaves you alone at the door. What now? Do you knock? You feel nervous, yet you don't feel the pounding of your heart or the sweat in your hands. You are excited, though you can't feel the butterflies in your stomach.

A soft knock on the door.

Was it not hard enough? What if he isn't home? What if he didn't hear? What if he acts like he doesn't hear so he doesn't have to answer-

"Price, I told ya, I don't want to go to the-" the door gets ripped open, revealing the masked man you have thought about each and every day, "pub."

"We don't have to if you don't wish to, Simon."

"Wh... Is that you?"

He grips your cheeks tightly, scared that if he lets go, you will disappear. His eyes scan your face, the rest of his face hidden behind the skull mask he wore when you met him. You nod as much as you can, but the tight grip barely allows for you to move. Within a second, you are in his arms, his arms around you and his head on top of yours. Even if you wanted to, you could never get out of this embrace.

"I can't believe it. You are here."

"I am here," you confirm.

"I have waited each and every day. Price told me your husband came here before you did."

You nod.

"He did. But he made me promise him something."

What did he promise? Should Simon be scared? Are you only here to say hello, only to never see him again?

"He wants me to have a second chance. To life my... afterlife, the way it was intended. With you."

He slowly lets go, looking down at you with big eyes. His tags still around your neck and you looking like an angel. Is this real? Someone, pinch him, though it will not work.

"With me?"

"Johnny and I were friends. Best friends, even," you whisper, holding onto Simon his hands, "He told me to find you, Simon. And, if you will have me, I would want to spend this eternity with you."

That is all that he has ever wanted to hear.

So, he gets down on one knee.

"Death made us part, but now brought us together," he kisses your knuckles, "May I ask you to be my wife, for now until forever?"

One hell of a way to ask you to marry him.

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tears to shed iii - simon 'ghost' riley

masterlist // masterlist call of duty

requested: no, but requests are OPEN! request: x

A/N: part 3!!any tips or feedback are very welcome <3 one more part after this one!!!!

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4

wordcount: 6.270 warnings: ooc simon (like, very ooc), corpse bride au, she/her reader, story will (slightly) change from the original corpse bride, she/her graves

An arranged marriage to unite two worlds. But no one would have expected that it would bring together the living and the dead.

To your surprise, Ghost his coffin was actually very comfortable to sleep in. You have no idea what time it is now - it seems to be night here at all times. You stretch your arms, grimacing as the corset seems to poke into your body, as you slowly sit up. You almost expected to wake up in your own room, maybe one in the MacTavish mansion, but upon opening your eyes, you are met with the same view you saw when you had fallen asleep.

"Good morning, love. Sleep well?"

You blink a few times, wiping your eyes as you nod.

"Yeah. Yeah, I uh... not used to coffins. Oddly comfortable, though."

Ghost huffs, nearly snorting as he shakes his head. He was used to the coffin. He got buried in this one, used it as a seat ever since. Everyone here does that - what else are they supposed to do with them?

"Good to hear. I have a question."

You hum in response, pulling on your corset in an attempt to loosen it. The buttons on your back make it nearly impossible to reach for it, but you need to loosen it a bit. Ghost eyes you for a second, standing up from his chair before leaning behind you.

"Need some help?"

"Oh! Yes, please."

His hands skillfully open up the tiny buttons, steady and quick as if he is handling a weapon. His hands almost never tremble or shake - a steady hand is very important in the line of work that he used to be in. You sigh in relieve as you feel the buttons pop open, Simon undoing the ribbon of your corset, loosening it before tying it back up, the buttons closing again.

"What were you going to ask, Simon?"

"My mate, Price, asked to meet you. The man has known me for years, always said I wouldn't marry with my ugly mug," the man lets out a soft snort, finishing up the last button before backing away again, "Would you be up for that?"

"Your... mates?"

You would meet his friends, people that have known him for much longer than you have, yet you are married to him. The situation, in a way, is the same as you would have ended up in anyway. Married to a man that you would have met only mere hours before, being in an unknown place, and not knowing what to do with yourself.

"I would love to."

He holds out his hand to you, the bony one first, but quickly changes it to his 'actual' hand. You let out a giggle, taking hold of it before following behind him. Whiskers takes the warm spot that you previously sat at, meowing once before curling up into a little ball. You still can not believe that you got to see Whiskers again. There are still confusing thoughts occupying your mind. Is this truly what the afterlife is like? Are you meant to be here, or should you get out? Have you died?

The two of you follow the same path leading back to the bar. Ghost is quiet, but it does not feel uncomfortable. His hand is cold and rough, yet it feels more inviting than any other touch you have ever felt. Your body fills with nerves, not quite knowing what to expect. Sure, you met the man with the cigar before, but that was while you were freaking out.

Ghost opens up the door, the music of the bar and the smell of booze nearly hitting you in the face. Some eyes are on you again, but Simon is quick to shield you and guide you to his favourite booth in the corner of the bar. He does not sit down until you do, someone quickly coming over to your table.

"Ghost! What can I get ya?"

"A whiskey."

"And for the lady?"

You look from Simon to the man, raising your eyebrows for a second. You do not drink any alcohol, but you are not sure what else they have.

"Just a water, thank you."

The man nods, walking off to go and get your drinks. It takes only seconds for Price to pop up, a big glass in his hands already.

"Simon! Little lady, how good to see you again. Have you adjusted a bit already? Sim- Ghost here can be a bit cold and rough around the edges."

"Oh!" You look at Simon, an amused smile on your face, "He has been an absolute dear. Why? Are you not used to that?"

Price lets out a loud laugh, moving a chair to the table before sitting down on it. He takes a gulp of the beer before placing it down onto the table. Simon being a 'dear'? Has she met the same man? All that John is used to is the icy and stoic demeanour, the cold stares and low groans. He does have to say that Simon seems... different.

When Price had not gotten any replies from Simon, he immediately thought of the worst. Captured by the enemy, shot on the field - he had to have been dead. It wasn't until a few months after where John himself lost his life, running into one of his life long friends in the afterlife. Simon was sitting at the bar, his gaze set on a half empty glass of whiskey, not really talking or looking at anyone. It was a relief to finally know what had happened to his friend, even if it meant both of them weren't living anymore.

"A dear? I have heard people call him a lot of things, but a 'dear' is not one of them. Good to hear, though," he takes another swig of his beer, "I have known this guy for years and years, never seen him be this nice or trust someone this fast before."

The comments make you feel special. How could you not? Price has known Simon for much longer than you have, and to hear this, kind of makes you feel flattered. Is it weird? You are to be wed to someone else, though. But... You are wed already? How odd that is. How could you even explain that to your parents?

Two glasses get placed in front of you and Simon, whiskey and water respectively. You quietly thank the server before sipping the water. It does not taste any different. Why did you even think it would?

"That is very sweet to hear. Here I was, thinking he would want to get rid of me as fast as he could," you let out a short laugh.

"Now, why would I?"

Ghost lifts up the bottom of his mask, the glass of bourbon lifted to his lips. This is the first time you have seen him without it, even if only partially.

You can't help but stare.

There are scars littering the part of his face you can see and you simply can not help but wonder what the rest of his face looks like. Simon places his glass back down and goes to pull his mask down again, but he can see you looking at him. He glances at you for a second before blinking once, pulling the mask off of his face entirely.

You immediately look back to your glass of water. Had he noticed your stares? It makes your cheeks feel warm, and the action makes Price lean back in his chair, a grin on his face as he lights the cigar. It takes a few seconds before you lift your gaze again, eyes meeting Simon as you breathe in deeply.

Behind this mask, behind the skull, lies what looks like an angel. He might as well be - this is some type of heaven, after all. Every single detail fits him so well. His eyelashes, the freckle on his cheek, his lips, his nose. All of them match together in a way that is absolutely perfect.

"Well," Price coughs, grinning before lifting his cup again, "Have you decided on where you will be stayin'? Simon's house is not very inviting, is it?"

Where will you be staying? Should you even stay in this world at all? Your parents must be worried, right? They will be looking for you, if they even know where to start. God, they must be fuming.

"A coffin is oddly comfortable," you mumble, sipping the water, "Whiskers seems to like it too. But -"

"A new arrival!"

Everyone immediately looks over to the voice, a crowd already forming, the same way as they did to you. You now understand why. Curiosity pulls on you, wanting you to go and find out who it is.

A jug of beer immediately gets brought over to the 'new arrival' and he seems to drink it the second he can. His figure, the outline, it looks oh so familiar. It is not until the person moves to the side that you see who it is.

"Shepherd!"

You jump up from your seat, leaving behind a confused Ghost and Price. You can not believe it - Shepherd is dead? His skin is more pale than you remember it being, but he does not seem to have any scars or wounds on him.

"Miss Y/N?"

"Shepherd... Oh goodness, what happened to you?"

The man scoffs, shaking his head as he takes a swig from his beer. He does not dislike you, you had always been kind, but your parents were an entirely different story.

"Nothing you should worry about, miss."

"Please, Shepherd, call me Y/N," you furrow your eyebrows, looking up at him, "How... How is it up there? How are mother and father? Mister MacTavish?"

"Word is going around, Y/N. You on the bridge, disappearing into the woods with an unknown man. Have you run off? Have you been killed?"

"No! No, I..."

How can you explain yourself? You had accidentally married someone who was not Johnny, now living in the underworld while still being alive. He would not believe that, would he?

"Something just happened and that is why I am here. I wonder if I should go back up," you whisper, "How about mother and father? Are they looking for me?"

The man feels bad for you. Your parents had done absolutely nothing to come and find you, barely getting off of the luxurious sofa to move to their luxurious beds in their luxurious rooms. The only person who seemed to care about your wellbeing was mister MacTavish.

"Sorry, Y/N," Shepherd shakes his head, "Last I heard, nothing happened. Mister and Mrs. Y/L/N have been either in the drawing room or in their chambers. Mister MacTavish seems so be looking for you, but his parents are forbidding it. It is said he is to marry miss Graves, the lady that had come in during the rehearsal. The wedding is set soon, maybe even tomorrow."

Johnny is to marry someone else?

Your heart should hurt, your ego should be dented, yet you don't feel ashamed at all. Maybe she fits him better. She seems put together, perfect, rich and famous. It would help Johnny and his family out - more than your family could. Sure, they had money, but miss Graves seems like the complete package.

"They left me?"

"Sorry, Y/N."

You blink before swallowing, your throat feeling swollen and closed. What else had you expected?

"I will see you around, Shepherd. Thank you for all that you have done for me."

You have mixed feelings. Do you even want to go back up to the surface after knowing that your parents did not care at all? Johnny seems to be the only one that even remotely cared, and even he is not allowed to come and find you. The path back to the table is slow, your mind distracted and your feelings conflicted.

"You okay, love?"

Ghost his cup had already nearly been emptied, while your glass still remained full.

"Yes. Just a familiar face, is all."

It was only the two of you, now. Price had gone off, probably refilling his pint. Simon looks from you, to the glass, and back to you. You seem so... different. Is it the shock from seeing someone you know? He remembers how he felt when Price suddenly stood in front of him.

What are you to do now? You have never felt as at home as here, never felt this cared for, never felt this comfortable. But, is it your time yet? You look back at Simon, thoughts racing through your head as you try to pick what you should be doing. The right thing, the expected thing, is to return from where you came from. But, is that also the thing that you want to do? It seems like no one upstairs cared that you had gone missing.

"What is keeping your pretty little head so busy, love?"

"Do you think I could go up to the surface?"

It is like all the chattering in the room suddenly quieted down, Simon his mind racing and his non-beating heart nearly falling out of his chest. Go back up? Leave him all alone?

"I just... In order for me to stay here, I need to finish things up... Up there."

You have to say goodbye, at least to Johnny. You can't leave him in the dark like that - he must be worried. He must be the only one worried if he was the only one looking for you. If you run into your parents, you might bid them goodbye too, though you know all they will do is be disappointed and maybe even upset that you came back.

You want to come back after it?

The thought feels relieving to him. How can he deny you of it? After all, he kind of brought you into this entire situation, so the least he could offer was to help you work out your final wish.

"I might know a way."

The walk to whatever destination Ghost was heading to, was much longer than the walk to his home. The road is rocky, and the closer you got to the destination, the quieter it seems to get.

"This person knows how to do anything."

In front of you is a discreet building. Small, but very sleek and clean. You hesitantly follow Ghost inside of the building, met with stacks of books and papers. Are you trespassing? What are the laws and rules in the land of the dead?

"Simon 'Ghost' Riley, always a pleasure."

"Laswell. Good to see you."

An older woman walks around the corner, pushing the last pin into her bun as she looks over at you.

"And a guest."

"My wife," Simon nods, looking at the woman, "We need to go upstairs."

"Upstairs?"

Laswell, as Ghost says, walks over to a desk, sitting down on the corner of it while never looking away from the two of you.

"What the hell do you need from upstairs?"

"It's not for me. It is for her," he squeezes your hand, "She needs to say goodbye. Unfinished business, and all that."

"Going upstairs is one hell of a mission, Ghost. You know that."

"I know, Laswell," he groans, "Just this once."

The woman looks from him to you, sighing before nodding. She then stands up, rummaging through some cabinets before pulling out an item.

"My dogtags? You still got 'em?"

"Sure as hell. Copies, even," she nods, "Put these on at the same time, and you will go up there. Don't be too long, Ghost. To return back, all you say is 'Affirmative'. Back to the good old days."

Both of you receive the dogtags, your fingers softly rubbing over the texture of them. 'Lieutenant Simon Ghost Riley, Task Force 141'. It is such a personal item - it does not surprise you that this will take you back.

"Don't take too long. I have no idea on how your body will react by being upstairs."

Simon simply nods, putting the dogtags on himself before you follow his lead. The room gets misty, the dust getting into your nose as you sneeze. The second you open your eyes, you are right back to where you were before. Woods behind you, the bridge underneath you, and Ghost next to you.

It is still the middle of the night, the moon high up in the sky and the streets quiet. It almost looks like no time has passed at all, but according to Shepherd, at least one day has gone by. Though he was up here not that long ago, it feels so different to Simon. The moon here is brighter than it is down below, its light illuminating you in an even more beautiful way than he could have ever expected.

"So," you quietly say, fiddling with your hands, "How should we do this?"

We.

"Don't know, love," Simon looks around. Should he have taken his mask? He had completely forgotten about it, "Where do ya need to be?"

"That tall house, over there."

All lights were already off. They must be asleep. Your mother, your father... everyone is inside.

"Let me walk you there. I will be outside, making sure you're safe."

You gratefully nod, slowly leading him to the home. How will you even enter? Through the front door, or maybe you have to climb through a window? The only person you need to see is Johnny.

When you walk by the side of the mansion, you see the flickering of a candle. Immediately you stop moving. Is someone still up? From inside of the home you hear shuffling, the sound coming closer and closer before stopping in front of the window.

Johnny.

Furrowed eyebrows, his arms crossed, and his eyes fixated on the bridge that you had just come from. He is the only one looking out for you. At least, in this world. It is good that he is on the lowest level - no climbing up balconies.

You softly knock on the window, Ghost standing a few meters away from you, as you try and get his attention. It seems to nearly scare Johnny as he jumps from the sudden sound, his eyes growing big once he sees what caused it. You see him mouth your name before quickly opening the window.

"Y/N?!"

"Shh," you quickly whisper, looking behind him, "Yes, it is me."

"Where have ya been? Wait - come inside!"

"Johnny, I can't. It's... It is a long story, but I could not leave you behind without any answers."

He looks at you with a bewildered look on his face. You are speaking nonsense, the cryptic messages not nearly enough to build up an answer.

"I have to go soon, but none of that is your fault, John," you continue, "I just do not fit in here. My mother and father... I was told they did not even bat an eye when I disappeared. You deserve so much better than that, Johnny. The blonde woman, she seems rich and kind, she can give you the life you need. The one your parents want."

"What if I don't want 'er?" He whispers back, leaning out of the window, "Our parents are despicable. Your parents did not pay any mind to you disappearing, and mine did not let me go out to find you. Neither of us are in good hands."

Should you truly leave him behind? Or do you need to be selfish, just this once? Because, what do you truly have here? Shepherd is down below, your parents do not care, you are barely allowed to have your own opinions... Johnny would be the only good thing left. But down below is where you feel free, welcomed, safe.

"It is a situation that I could not even begin to explain, Johnny," even though you really wish you could, "But they do not care about me. They want to be famous, high up on the ladder... If your parents only need money, you might be better off with the other lady. I care about you, truly, and that is why this sounds like the best choice. Maybe... Maybe I can come by once in a while."

"Yeah," Johnny slowly nods, "But I still don't understand. I have to tell them you're back, I-"

"Love, we have to go."

A low voice speaks up, one that Johnny has never heard of before.

"I'm sorry, Johnny."

"Affirmative."

The smoke engulfs you once more, leaving a confused and cold Johnny behind. Where had you run of to? Why had you left him behind? Whatever is going on, he still has to wed. Miss Graves it shall be.

You are back in the small home belonging to Laswell, the dogtags now in your hands instead of around your neck. You slowly hand it back to the woman, your heart still racing and your mind chaotic.

"Thank you, Laswell."

The journey back to Ghost his home starts, though the way back home seems to go much faster. You feel relieved, in a way. You can now stay here, a place that has accepted you much faster than the other world ever could, no matter how absurd it might be.

"Who was he?"

You look up to Simon, his shiny eyes looking down at you.

"A... friend, I guess. Couldn't leave him behind without answers."

He hums, his thumb softly rubbing your hand. He can not believe that you are here to stay. Finally, after countless years, he has been given the chance to become a husband, and he would love to do nothing more than be the best husband one could ever be.

Ghost opens the door to his home, making sure you are safe inside before closing it behind him again. On his bed - coffin, sit a new pile of blankets and pillows.

"Got Gaz to put 'em there. Figured you might be cold, otherwise."

You smile up at him. You truly are here to stay.

"Thank you, Simon. Truly."

You can't help but stare at him. His face is so beautifully sculpted, so unlike anything you have ever seen. His hand is on your lower back as he guides you to the coffin, sitting down on the seat right next to it.

"You tired, love?"

You hum in response, moving some of the blankets around before sitting down.

"You go to sleep, okay? I overheard that there will be a party when you wake up. Newlyweds, huh?"

A giggle leaves from you as you nod, laying down on the coffin as Ghost leans over, pressing a soft, cold kiss to your forehead before sitting back in his chair. It takes not even minutes before you are asleep, wrapped up in layers of blankets.

After two hours, a knock sounds on the door, much too loud for Simon his liking. Do they not know you are asleep?

He stands up, reaching for the doorknob, but what he sees behind confuses him. Not only John, but also Laswell stand outside.

"Simon, we need to talk."

"Quietly," he whispers. "Y/N is sleeping."

John and Laswell look at each other for a moment before looking back at the tall man in front of them.

"It's about her."

"What about her?"

"Ghost... There is a complication with your marriage."

His marriage?

"What is it? Hope you guys aren't mad that she wasn't quite what you expected. Price, you said you didn't care that she was a breather-"

"Simon," Laswell firmly says, shutting the man up, "That is the entire thing. The vows... They are binding only till death do you part. The situation is... death has already parted you. The vows have never been real. Not in that sense, at least."

You groan softly, the different voices and sounds waking you up. You rub your eyes, though keeping them closed.

"What are you saying? Is she going to leave me to go back upstairs?"

"The chance is always there, Ghost. The vows simply do not bind the two of you together. There is only one way of it working."

"Well?"

"You aren't going to like it. It requires a great sacrifice."

"What do I have to do?" SImon ruffles his hair in frustration, "What do I have to give up?"

"It is not you, mate," Price looks down at the ground, "It's her. In order to get around the rules, she has to be... dead."

Dead?

Why had you never thought of that. 'Till death do us part', but that did not apply to you, Simon had already been dead.

"She will have to give it all up to stay here. She is young, Ghost," Laswell continues, "It is a hard choice. You would have to repeat the vows in the land of the living, and she would have to be poisoned or killed to come back here. Her heart can't be yours so long as it is still beating."

You slowly sit up in the bed, just out of their view. Simon is standing with his back toward you, shaking his head and rubbing his face.

"I will not ask that of her, are you fuckin' insane?"

"You don't have to ask me," you mumble, standing up and walking over to the group, "I will do it."

Ghost opens his mouth to object, but Laswell is earlier.

"If you choose this option, you can never return to the land above again. It is not an easy choice, Y/N."

"I won't miss anything there. They will not miss me, either."

If Simon could, he would be crying now. Are you truly willing to give it all up, for him? To actually make the scary step to be here forever?

"Well, let's get to preparing, huh?"

You can now understand why Price was the leader of his force. In only half an hour, he has organized an entire trip to the upstairs, a well-planned plan of attack, and, even a menu for the wedding. No cockroaches or spiders this time.

You should be terrified. You are going to be dead in a few hours. Is it more comforting to know exactly when you are going to die? You can prepare for it. Besides, you have seen the afterlife already.

Laswell is carrying the poisoned wine, and Price is holding the book with vows. Simon insisted that he should marry the two of you - that was the original plan for any wedding anyway.

It is quite odd how the afterlife is more lively than life itself.

Upstairs, the wedding between John MacTavish and the, now, Mrs. Graves has gone through, the small amount of visitors there seated in the dining area. Johnny sits with a scowl on his face, pushing the food around on his plate. He does not want to say he was in love with you, he had only talked to you for five minutes in total, but he already knew that you would be much better company than the woman next to him.

"Attention, everyone," she stands up with a sickly sweet voice, clinking her glass. No one was talking to begin with, "I am so utmost grateful and I am filled with joy to know that John MacTavish is officially my husband. Fate has brought us together, and nothing can take us apart."

The fireplace between the couple suddenly erupts in big flames, all who came from the underworld, now ascending back upstairs. Chaos fills the room, the living and the dead combined. Screaming, running, trying to leave the house as fast as possible. Even Lord and Lady MacTavish run out screaming, the most emotion they have portrayed in years.

In only a few minutes, the entire room is cleared, except for Johnny and Graves. He only stands there in shock, too confused to even move.

"That's it!" She hisses angrily, turning to Johnny, "We need to take all the money and get out of here! This is ridiculous."

"Money?" MacTavish scoffs, "What money?"

"Don't act stupid. I'm your wife now! I have the right to access your money!"

"We don't have any money," a laugh erupts from Johnny, "I married you for the money. Don't want my parents to end up in the poor house."

"No money?! You are lying!"

"Why? Are things not going according to your plan, Graves?"

Outside, there is an entire parade, all heading for the big church. A wedding has to take place, no matter what. Cakes, gifts, flowers. All are being taken to the venue, ready for the wedding of their beloved corpse husband. Some of these spirits have waited just as long as Ghost to see him get married.

He stands at the aisle already, you slowly making your way down it with a nervous smile on your face. Every seat in the church is occupied, both by the living and the dead. It surprised you, all of them knew each other in one way or another.

"We are gathered here today to join this corpse and this woman in marriage," Price starts, clearing his throat.

Johnny had stormed out of the house, leaving Graves by herself, only to be met with a large group of people outside. Where are they heading at this time of the day? Curiosity pulls on him, and so he decides to follow their trail.

"Y/N?"

A soft whisper, his eyes set on you standing next to this other man, right in the place where he was mere hours ago.

"Ladies first. Miss Y/N, your vows."

You turn to Simon, a big smile on your face as you nod, taking hold of his hands.

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine," just as you had said in the woods, picking up the fancy chalice.

"And now for you, Simon."

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty," he slowly picks up the pitcher, filling up your glass, "For I -"

He stops talking when he spots a figure behind you. John MacTavish, dressed in a neat suit and a flower tucked in the pocket of his jacket.

You blink up at him, furrowed brows and the chalice of poison in your hands.

"For I will be..."

Come on, Simon. This is all you have ever dreamed off. You have fought for years and years, escaped death for so many of them, and now you finally have the chance to settle. To find peace, to find love, to find comfort.

"Go on, Ghost."

"I - Your cup, will never empty. For I will be..."

He can't.

"You will be my wine," you finish for him, a small smile on your face as you look up to him, adoration in your eyes.

You lift the chalice to your lips, wanting to take a sip, but a skeleton hand stops you. Whispers and mumbles fill the church - is the groom having second thoughts? Does he not want to marry you, after all?

"Y/N... I can't," he says, his voice low and gravelly.

"Why can't you? What's wrong, Simon?"

"This is wrong. I... I was a husband before. A groom. My dream was ripped from me," he looks behind you, "And now I am ripping it away from someone else."

Is this the sacrifice that Laswell was talking about? It feels like his heart is being stabbed yet again.

"I love you, Y/N. Heart and soul... But you are not mine."

He gestures at the figure behind you, making you turn around. Johnny stands behind you, shocked look on his face, his hands clammy and sweaty. Ghost his limbs feel like they might fall off, shaking as he gestures at Johnny yet again.

"Johnny?"

He slowly comes walking over, standing on your other side as Ghost slips off the ring that you had put around his finger, placing it in Johnny his hand.

"Oh, how touching!"

A sarcastic voice.

"You nearly had me crying! Two lovers, together at last! Surely this means they can live happily ever after," the woman strolls down the aisle, her dress white and a sarcastic grin on her face. "Yet you seem to forget one thing. That, is my husband."

The woman pulls Johnny as close as she can.

"I will not leave here empty handed. And that is not a threat," she glares at you, "That is a guarantee."

"You."

A low whisper, Simon staring at the blonde woman in front of him. Her shoulders drop, her grip on Johnny loosening for just a second.

"Simon?"

"It's you."

"How are you here?" She stammers, "I left you."

You look from Johnny to Simon to Graves. Is this the woman who, quite literally, broke his heart? Killed him, only to leave him for dead?

The crowd gasps, realization setting in. From a pocket of her dress, she pulls a knife, holding it to Johnny his throat, glaring at everyone in the room.

"Leave us alone! We must be on our way," she hisses, trying to back up and leave the church, but her path is obstructed.

Angry faces, corpses and skeleton alike, surround the woman. You step forward, glancing at Johnny before looking at the woman.

"Let him go."

"Why? Do I have to kill you, too?"

This sets something off in Ghost.

Him being killed is one thing - he was foolish enough to believe her lies. The fake love, emotions, promises. He thought they were real, but you have nothing to do with his past mistakes. He storms to Graves, overpowering her by pushing her to the ground as Johnny escapes her grip.

"Simon!"

You try to get closer to them, to get through the crowd, but that is nearly impossible. People are trying to hold everyone in the church, Ghost chasing after the woman. How dare she threaten you?

But then, she averts her eyes to you. You, the person who came back. The person who is destroying her plan. Instead of running from Ghost, she now runs at you, the same knife in her hands. You are frozen, shocked, confused.

Just as she is about to embed the knife in you, something stops her. You get pushed to the ground, and when you open your eyes back up, you see Simon, towering over you. The knife sticks in his chest, the very same spot where this exact knife landed just a few years ago.

He pulls it out, clenching it so hard that the bones in his hand nearly let loose.

"Touché," Graves hisses, clearly not amused by his little stunt.

"Get out," Simon only responds, his voice so low and dark that you nearly did not believe it was his.

Is this what he was like when he was alive? As a soldier, as an enemy?

"Oh, I am leaving," the blonde laughs, still as cocky as ever, "But first! A toast to dear Simon Riley."

She picks up the chalice that you had put down, filled to the brim with deep red wine. She furrows her eyebrows, a mocking grin on her face as she raises her glass.

"Always the best man, yet never the husband," she raises an eyebrow before putting the glass to her lips. "Tell me, Simon. Can a heart still break once it has stopped beating, hm?"

No response.

An icy look thrown her way, yet no attempt to stop her from drinking the wine. Price looks from Simon to the woman, knowing damn well why he is not stopping her. As a living person, the underworld has no right to do anything. But even one sip of the wine, and they can have their way.

"To you, Simon," the chalice emptied in only seconds, "And thank you, for the wine."

She goes to step off of the platform, one last look before walking back down the aisle. So confident, yet that only lasts for a mere seconds as she doubles over, gasping for breath and her hands gripping the ground.

She is dead.

When she turns around, her skin is lifeless, her eyes big and her hands gripping her throat.

"Go on," Price nods, the group closing in on the woman before guiding her back downstairs. It is what she deserves.

Price is the last one to walk through the door, giving you one last comforting yet sad smile before disappearing.

"Are ye okay?" Johnny his warm hands grip your cheeks, shock still evident in his face.

In only an hour, he has gone from a husband to a widower.

"I... Yeah, I am okay," you whisper, looking past Johnny and at SImon.

The man blinks once, a sad smile on his face, his shoulders dropping as he nods, turning around to walk away. Johnny looks at him and back at you, backing off for a second. If Simon allowed you to say goodbye, then so will Johnny.

You run down the aisle as Simon had gotten quite far already, calling out his name.

"Simon... But I promised you."

"And you kept it. We were married, love," he looks down at you, a lone tear in his eye, "And you made me the happiest person. But you belong with him. It is not your time to go, not yet."

He reaches into his pocket, a pair of dog tags in his hand.

"These are the original ones, no copy from Laswell," he looks at them before dropping them in your hand, "Thank you, Y/N. Forever and always."

And there he went.

Down the street, over the bridge, and back into the soil of the dark woods.

[wintervalewritersecond]

tears to shed ii - simon 'ghost' riley

masterlist // masterlist call of duty

requested: no, but requests are OPEN! request: x

A/N: part 2!! hope you guys enjoy <3 any tips or feedback are very welcome <3

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4

wordcount: 3.402 warnings: ooc simon (like, very ooc), corpse bride au, she/her reader, story will (slightly) change from the original corpse bride, she/her graves

An arranged marriage to unite two worlds. But no one would have expected that it would bring together the living and the dead.

"A new arrival!"

"Hey, lower your voice. She fainted, she does not need your screaming in her ear."

You can feel eyes on you, even though your own eyes are still shut. Unfamiliar voices surround you, and a weird feeling settles in your stomach. Where are you? Who is with you? What time is it?

"Are you alright?"

When your eyes open, you are met with the same skeleton mask that you saw before, but next to it, is a group of other... people. All of them have scars, wounds, a grey-ish tint on their skin. Are they even alive?

"What... What happened?"

You slowly sit up a bit straighter, noticing that you had been put on a weirdly soft couch. Are you still in the woods? If so, where?

"Ah, looks like we got ourselves a breather!"

The man gets pushed to the side by someone else, his face uncomfortably close to yours as you are too shocked to even move. Who are all of these people?

"She's still soft!"

You need to get away.

Your dress gets stuck under your shoes as you quickly try to stand up, the skeleton masked man reaching out to help you up, but you quickly dodge it. What is going on? You try to back off, but as you walk backwards, you are met with even weirder sights. Exposed bones, skulls, skeletons. People drinking some type of booze, yet it all drips straight through their jaw. One person even has a knife stuck in his neck, yet it does not seem to faze him.

"A toast to the newlyweds!"

"Newlyweds?"

"Now, we are surprised by it too - Ouch!"

The masked man elbowed the other man, shaking his head before looking back down at you.

"You said your vows so perfectly. Right there, in the woods," he lifts his hand, the ring shimmering on his finger, "I surely did not expect it, but we are officially wed. We are the newlyweds, love."

You look at him wide-eyed. Being promised to some random man and having to marry him within twenty-four hours is one thing, but accidentally marrying a different man, one with a skeleton arm and mask, is an entirely different and insane thing.

"Oh... My god."

Your breathing gets even heavier than it was as you run to the other side of the room, trying to open the door. You hit it with your fists, trying to put all of your weight onto it, but it doesn't budge.

"Coming through! Coming through!"

You slowly turn around, only to be met with someone holding a head on a plate. The face smiles at you with a big grin, nodding.

"Oh, there has to be a wedding feast! Of course, I am the best cook. I am thinking about roaches, maggots-"

"I- oh God," you repeat, backing away yet again, but accidentally bumping into the big crowd, "Oh, sorry!"

They seem to surround you again, the commotion making others look up from what they were previously doing. Is there nothing here to defend yourself? Has the man in the mask kidnapped you?

"Stay away!" You threaten, though the shaking in your voice gives you away, "I have answers, and I need questions!"

"I think it's the other way around," someone whispers into your ear, but you just shake your head while looking forward.

"What is going on here? And... And where am I? Who are all of you?!"

The masked man slowly walks back over to you, the crowd backing up just a bit.

"We are not here to hurt you, okay? Maybe we should sit down. It is kind of a complicated story."

He guides you to a little booth in the corner of the bar, your eyes never leaving him. Curious looks follow you, but you try to pay them no mind. You need answers, and you need them now.

"Well?"

The man straightens his suit jacket as he sits down himself, looking at you. You look scared - terrified, even. Your dress is stained and even ripped in some places, dirt covering your cheeks and your hair matted.

"I have been hidden under that tree for a long, long time," the man leans back, his arms crossed, "Waiting for my wedding. I had it all planned out. I was finally able to leave the army, to stop fighting. To leave it all behind and settle down. Finally allowing myself to. I waited and waited, yet she never showed up. And when she did..."

He was in the army?

"Safe to say I didn't survive," he humourlessly laughs, "Stabbed me in the chest, stole all I had, and ran off. Last thing I heard was that I would never marry... Guess I just waited there out of spite. And then you came, said your vows just as I had, and here we are. Newlyweds. After all these years."

The other man walks past the table again, a cigar stuck in his mouth and a grin on his face.

"I have to say, in all the years I have known this guy, I never expected him to get married. Especially not to a breather, but I am not one to judge. I'm John, but people call me Price around here."

John... Johnny! You have to go back. You have to see your parents, Johnny, you have to go back up there.

"I'm... I have to go."

You quickly get up, lifting the bottom of your dress before running up the stairs, trying to escape wherever you came from. No matter what it is, you just have to get out. You have to get away. Oh, how you wish you had just stayed in that stupid mansion with those stupid people. If only you would have just remembered your vows before.

Tears build up in your eyes as you try to find your way through this unknown city. It strangely is more colourful than wherever you were before. Coloured lights and colourful flowers, yet most of them are wilted. Coffins are everywhere, lining the walls, same with overgrown plants and vines. After walking around for another couple of minutes, you find a little bench, one that looks out over the entire town.

It then only takes a few minutes before you hear someone next to you. You don't even want to look up - you know its the masked man.

"We got off on a bad start, didn't we?"

He leans against the bench, looking at you as you still don't dare to look at him, instead focussing on the hem of your dress.

"I'm Simon. People here call me Ghost, though. Kind of stuck around from back when I was in the army. The guy with the cigar was my mate. Still is. Both died around the same time, though his life ended on the field. Some of my other mates are also somewhere around here."

You look at him out of the corner of your eye.

"I'm Y/N. Sorry for... For all of this. Freaking out, and all. It is not quite how I expected my evening to go."

He shrugs, shaking his head.

"It's to be expected. New arrivals are always thrown off guard. Have to admit that we do not see a lot of breathers around here, though. I also know I am not the most... welcoming person to see when you first get here."

This gets a giggle out of you.

"I have to admit... The mask is scary. Just a tad bit, though. May I ask why you wear it?"

"Of course you may. You're my wife," he nods, "It is something I always have done. Back in the army, too. I guess it makes me feel comfortable."

"And here I thought you just wanted to hide your face. Maybe you are secretly unattractive?"

"Quite the opposite, love."

He laughs, the first time you heard it. It is so different, but something that fills your heart with joy. How does he feel? Does he still have a heart?

Maybe being here is not that bad. Is it much different than being in the living world? No one here has any cares, no one lives by specific rules, no one is forcing you to do things against your will. Sure, getting married to a stranger is odd, but it was something already on your list. You did not expect him to not be alive, though.

"Do you want me to take it off?"

You shrug. What do you want? Being here is not nearly as bad as you thought it would be, but at the same time you are not sure if you are ready to be... dead. Are you even dead? You are in the world of the dead, yet you feel very much alive. You feel scared, nervous, confused. You feel your heartbeat in your chest.

"Whenever you are comfortable."

It is quiet for a second before Ghost leans to the side, picking something up from the ground.

"I got you something. Wedding present."

You look at the box. It has a bow on it, and is not too big. What could he have gotten you? Flowers, maybe? You slowly take hold of it, looking at the man before looking back at the box. The bow gets undone before the top gets lifted up. The sight makes you feel a bit sick.

Bones.

A box full of bones.

"Oh! I uh... I love it."

Does he expect you to wear it just like how he wears the skull mask? Is it a real skull?

The bones suddenly start rattling, almost getting patched together before the entire figure jumps out of the box. It nearly makes you fall off of the seat, but the movements and meowing of the figure feel oh so familiar to you.

It's your cat.

"Whiskers?" You whisper, shocked by the small animal in front of you, "Oh, Whiskers! I missed you so!"

The little creature jumps up on your lap, purring and kneading your dress.

"Simon, how did you..."

You look over at him, but he is already looking back at you. It feels like this is the first time where you can take a good look at him. Behind the skull mask is a face, though you can only make out his eyes now. A deep brown colour, one that you could stare in for hours. You could only imagine what he would look like underneath it.

"Oh, Whiskers came to find me. Tried to scratch me on the way here. Feral beast, that is."

"Feral?! Now, don't call my sweet Whiskers that," you let out a laugh, the skeleton cat jumping off of the bench before laying down on the ground, "You know, mother always hated poor Whiskers. I never knew why, but I am sure that that woman hates absolutely anything."

Simon looks at the woman. The only light comes from the moon, but for some reason, it makes you look more beautiful than the sun ever could. Simon always despised the moon - he died under it. He always expected to die on the field, to die to the hand of his enemy, but instead, he was betrayed by someone he loved. Someone he trusted. Yet somehow, he trusts you.

"Would she hate me?"

You look back at him, blinking slowly as you breathe in deeply.

"I am sure she even hates her own daughter."

"I don't see how that is possible."

His voice is smooth, deep, so alluring. It pulls you in, only to never let you go. It is comforting, the tone in which he speaks so soft and respectful. So different from what you are used to.

"I will take that as a compliment," you whisper, smiling before averting your gaze to Whiskers.

Sitting with him feels oddly nice. Nothing else matters. No screaming mother, no moody weather. Whatever this place may be, it is surely not how you envisioned the afterlife. Your feet hurt from all the running, your legs are tired and your mind is racing.

"Do you want to go home?"

"Home?"

Simon nods, standing up before stretching his long legs, his masked face looking down at you.

"We are married now, and I am not letting you sleep out here on a cold bench. Don't want you getting sick, love."

You should be getting back. But maybe, all of this is a dream. What if you go to sleep, only to wake up to your wedding dress hanging on the closet? Johnny waiting for you at the end of the aisle? Sure, you do not know the man, but it could have been worse. Your mother could have tried to marry you off to a man fifty years your senior, but mister MacTavish is only four years older.

So, you take Simon his hand.

His hand is cold, rough. There are scars littered all over them, his knuckles covered in little cuts. He senses your eyes on his hand as the two of you walk down the stairs.

"It's not pretty, but at least I still got a hand. One that's not just fuckin' bones."

Whiskers trails behind the two of you as you can not help but follow him. Who knows what dangers might be here if you would be left out on the streets.

"Why did the man with one hand cross the road?"

You look up at the man, but you find that he isn't looking back. Instead, he looks forward, already seeing his house. You wish you could see his face - what is he thinking?

"I have no idea. Why?"

"To get to the second-hand shop."

You snort, a sound so odd, but this is something you had not seen coming. He has an odd sense of humour, but the slight monotone voice is what makes it so much funnier. After just a few more minutes, Ghost stops in front of a door.

"It's not much, but it is better than staying out here."

He opens the door with his skeleton arm, revealing a small room. It has a coffin, a blanket, a big chair, and a small table.

"Don't really need much more when you're dead," Simon mumbles, closing the door behind him before making sure it is locked.

Usually, he wouldn't care too much. He would be out at the pub with Price and Gaz, watching as the 'welcome committee' would greet whoever decided to join the underworld that day. Ghost did not really pay them any mind. He never did. Not when he was alive, not when he was dead. But you, you are a different story. Though his heart seems to be made of ice, not having beat once in these last few years, you make it seem like he has a chance. Like his heart will miraculously beat again, if even just once. If he could, he would feel all warm inside, but he has not felt like that in ages.

Your hand in his is a sensation that he has not felt in a long, long time. Everything and everyone here is cold, as hard as bone, all broken in one way or another. But you... You are warm, soft, and now, his wife, as he is your husband.

"All that is mine, is yours. It's not too much. I have a blanket around here somewhere."

He lets go of your hand, looking around the room. You can't help but just stand there. Do you sit down, do you stay here? The only place where you could sit down is the dusty chair in the corner, or you would have to opt for the coffin. It does look quite comfortable, in an odd way. Ghost takes the blanket from the side of the chair, placing it on the coffin.

"I don't really need sleep. But you do."

"You don't sleep once you're dead? I thought death was an eternal sleep. At least, that is what they always told me."

"No," Ghost shakes his head, sitting down in the big chair. His arms rest on the sides, looking at you, "I mean, I can sleep. Don't really need to, though. I'm a light sleeper, anyway."

You slowly nod, taking a seat at the edge of the coffin. This is all one big dream. An odd one, but a dream to be sure. It is absolutely insane how the brain can come up with something like this. You are tired, maybe some sleep will clear your thoughts up a bit.

"Thank you, Simon. Truly."

"Of course, love," he responds, his voice gravelly. Something about it is just so absolutely mesmerizing. You could listen to him for hours. "Go to sleep. I will be here when you wake up."

Wake up. Will you be in a completely different place again? Will you be back home, or will you be here? Is this place your new home? Has anyone even noticed that you had gone missing?

"John MacTavish, if you do not get away from that window right this instant."

The man lets out a groan, his eyes stuck on the window for a few more seconds before he turns around, his hands on his hips. He should not have run off and leave you behind, but he was just so frustrated in the moment.

"Oh, no need to fret mister MacTavish. Y/N is deadly afraid of the dark. At least, I think," mister Y/L/N says, sipping his tea. "She will be back shortly. I know it. In fact, she has to sleep with a candle on, each and every night. Otherwise she will wet the bed, even at her age now."

Johnny shakes his head. All of these people are absolutely idiotic. In the short amount of time that he has known you - a mere couple of minutes, that is - he feels like he needs to protect you. He genuinely does have to. He is to be your husband, of course. Even though both his and your parents are pressuring the two of you, he will not hold that against you. His parents need money, and your parents want to be more popular amongst the people in town.

"Do none of you'se care that she is gone?"

Lord and Lady MacTavish simply look away from their son as Mrs and Mister Y/L/N quietly sip their tea. What are they to do anyway?

A knock on the door breaks the tension, Lord MacTavish telling the person to come in. It is nearly the middle of the night, who could be calling upon them now?

In walks miss Graves, her blonde hair styled to perfection.

"Miss Graves," Lady MacTavish nods, "I trust the room is to your liking?"

"Oh, it truly is. Thank you, you are a most gracious hostess," miss Graves slowly steps into the room, her hands clasped together. "But that is also why it pains me so much to tell you the bad news."

"Bad news? What bad news?"

With a simple snap of her hand, a paper boy comes walking in, nervously looking around. The woman stands up straight, looking over at the young boy.

"Please, repeat the headline that you told me about."

It is quiet for a second.

"Hear ye, hear ye-"

"Quietly, please."

"Of course," he nods, "Miss Y/L/N seen just this night, on the bridge in the arms of a mysterious man. The man and woman slipped away into the night."

"That will be all. Thank you," Graves waves her hand, dismissing the boy before turning back to the family.

"Mysterious man? How come? Y/N has not even seen a man in her lifetime, let alone speak to one!"

"Well... My duty is done. I will retire for the night. Do call for me if you need my assistance. In any, possible way."

You had run off with a different man?

You wouldn't.

Johnny and you were to be wed soon. Tomorrow, originally, but with you missing, that would be hard. What should he do? If you truly ran off with someone else, then who is he to say anything about it?

"Oh, what scandal!" Mrs. Y/L/N almost shrieks, the tea spilling out of her cup and onto her dress, "I cannot believe that my very own daughter would do something like this! Oh, my nerves! This stupid, stupid child!"

It makes the man his jaw clench. They speak of you as if you are nothing but dirt under their shoes. He needs to find you. What if it was simply a misunderstanding? You could be hurt.

"I'm gunna find 'er."

"You most certainly are not!" His mother hisses, pulling his arm to make him sit back down, "She will show up, sooner or later. It will be a disgrace if she does not. We need to become rich, and her parents want to climb the social ladder. You are staying here, and that is final, John."

It is all going according to plan.

At least, to Graves' plan.

[wintervalewritersecond]

call of duty masterlist

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

tears to shed // tears to shed ii

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish

coming soon!

John Price

coming soon!

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

coming soon!

[wintervalewritersecond]

tears to shed - simon 'ghost' riley

masterlist // masterlist call of duty

requested: no, but requests are OPEN! request: x

A/N: i have been thinking of this AU for a while now! i dont know why or how, maybe because of the skull mask he has on, or maybe just because i love both media, but alas, here it is! going to be multiple parts i think...

part one // part two // part three // part four

wordcount: 2,366 warnings: ooc simon, corpse bride au, she/her reader

An arranged marriage to unite two worlds. But no one would have expected that it would bring together the living and the dead.

"I do not want to see that pout again! We have gone over this, you are to wed mister MacTavish, whether you like it or not!"

Yes. Yes, we have gone over this. Quite frankly, it is all that you have heard about for the last few weeks. Your family finally had the chance to climb the social ladder, claiming their spot that 'is rightfully theirs'. The MacTavish family is one of the highest ranking families with a son that your parents deem perfect for you.

Perfect, as in, for them. A high rank, society looking up to you, and all that for the small price of marrying out their only daughter.

"Besides, with a face like yours, who else would marry you? Anne, tighten her corset! I can nearly hear her breathe."

Anne, your maid, looks at you as she furrows her eyebrows, slightly tightening the corset as you breathe in. God, can this already be over?

A carriage is driven in front of your doorstep, ready to bring you to the huge MacTavish mansion. Your mother seems like she could not be happier as your father only trails behind her.

"Oh, I can not wait for our daughter to be married! We will finally be where we should have been from the very start!"

"This is only a rehearsal, my dear."

"Oh, nonsense! This wedding will happen, whether you like it or not! This time tomorrow, we will be the talk of the town!"

In an attempt to ignore them, you already enter the carriage, pulling on your gloves as you lean your head on the small window. Your mother huffs, climbing into the carriage as well before your father comes in, closing the door behind him.

"Now, come on! We don't have all day. Shepherd!"

The old man grunts, pulling the reigns as the horses taking off. It takes only a few seconds before your mother taps you with her fan.

"I can see you thinking! Whatever plan of escaping you have, you better forget. Everything has to go according to plan, Y/N! This life we have lived up till now is something not fit for us. We are rich, and this marriage will only mean good for us. Oh, can't you just see it?" She looks over at your father, "We will have balls! Oh, can you just imagine? Dancing, and goodness, people will be coming over for tea!"

You wonder how it was going in the MacTavish home now. Were his parents also lecturing him on everything? Were they tying his tie so tightly so that he can barely breathe? Or maybe his parents were actually quite sweet.

Before you knew it, the carriage already comes to a stop, the huge mansion in front of you. It is even more terrifying as you remember. Sure, you knew their home would be bigger than yours, but this is nearly a castle. You breathe in deeply - well, as deep as you can with the tight corset - before exiting the carriage after your parents.

Your mother pulls you behind her and up the stairs that lead to the tall doors. How will these even be opened? They are five times as tall as you and they must be so heavy. Your mother roughly turns you around, tugging on your dress and hair to make sure it looks absolutely perfect before the door opens.

"Oh, goodness! What an impeccable taste," your mother mumbles to herself, looking around as you just trail behind, "So grand!"

In front of you stand two tall figures.

"Lord and Lady MacTavish," the butler gives your family a side-eye before stepping back.

"Ah, you must be mister John MacTavish. I have to say, you do not look a day over twenty!"

Can your mother be more idiotic? Your father tugs her arm, shaking his head before coughing.

"Well," Lady MacTavish raises one eyebrow, "We will be taking tea in the drawing room. Follow me."

The Lord and Lady already walk off, your parents trailing behind them as your mom keeps muttering random compliments. Something else catches your eye though.

A piano.

A grand piano at that. It is cleaned so well that it seems to reflect anything in its path. You wish you were allowed to play piano at home, but your mother always insisted that it was simply not fit for you. There is more important stuff to do, such as pushing yourself into the smallest corset just to appeal to others.

Your fingers float over the keys as you slowly sit down. The door to the drawing room was already shut, they wouldn't hear you, right? You slowly press the different keys. Gosh, it feels good to finally play the piano again. It was a small secret between you and your father - only playing the instrument if your mother was not home.

Johnny was running late. His parents will kill him. They had warned him so many times that he should have been on time, yet here he is, still trying to tie his tie. After multiple tries, he finally gets it, rushing out of his room and down the stairs. But, before he can even get out of his hallway, he is met with the soft notes of a piano. The piano actually being played in this house?

He is met with you as you still softly play, not even noticing the man at the top of the stairs. Were you Miss Y/L/N? He walks down the steps, slowly making his way over to the piano. You are still sat on the little stool, not even noticing the figure behind you until you see a shadow towering over you. You yelp, quickly standing up before pushing the seat back in its original place.

"I am so sorry! Please, excuse me."

The man shakes his head, laughing.

"Hey, no need for that. You play beautifully. I wish I possessed that talent."

"Oh, it is nothing," you let out a deep breath, smiling at him. "My mother does not quite like my playing. Says it is improper for a lady."

"Nonsense," Johnny sits down on the little stool, gesturing for you to sit down as well. "If anything, you should never stop playing. You truly have a talent for it, miss Y/L/N."

It is quiet for a bit, just the two of you sitting together, both not knowing what to say.

"So... We are to be wed tomorrow."

"So it is, mister MacTavish."

"Oh, no, call me John. Or Johnny, both is okay. Considering the circumstances, I think it will do."

"All right, that is, if you call me Y/N."

He does not have time to respond as his mother comes rushing out of the drawing room, visibly mad.

"What is this?! How improper. You shouldn't be alone together! The rehearsal starts in one minute! Come, at once!"

Time goes as slow as it could. In front of the group stands a tall man, trying to guide everyone through the rehearsal as you fight to not fall asleep. His voice is almost as boring as his appearance, and nothing about this entire situation makes you feel happy. You are not even allowed to sit directly next to Johnny, not to mention that both of you just could not keep to the script.

"Okay... Again," the old man groans, nearly wanting to rip the book that he is holding apart, "Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine."

"With this candle," Johnny begins, but quickly gets cut off.

"Mister MacTavish, first repeat the other sentence," the old man shakes his head, dropping the book on the table. "First the cup, then the wine, then the candle. Let's try it again..."

You quickly glance back, seeing multiple disappointed faces looking back at you. The doorbell rings, Lord MacTavish quickly waving the butler away to open up the door.

"How about you, miss Y/N?"

"Yeah," you quietly mumble, taking hold of the candle. All that you have to do is make it lit up and make sure the flame stays on the entirety of the speech. "I, uh... I use this candle..."

"With this candle, miss Y/N."

"Oh, it seems that I am early."

Both you and Johnny turn around, seeing the visitor that knocked on the door earlier. A woman, one dressed in a neat and fashionable gown, stands in the middle of the aisle.

"Is she from our family?" Your mother whispers to your father, but he only shrugs in response.

"A seat for Miss Graves, please."

What an odd name.

"Oh, please. Do carry on."

"Right... Let us try this. Again."

"With this hand," Mister MacTavish takes hold of your hand, holding the candlestick in his other. "I will..."

He bumps into the table in front of him, everything on it shaking and nearly falling over as the old man starts yelling yet again.

"Three steps! Can you not count?"

You look over at Johnny before looking back at the man.

"I am sure that he can, sir."

The man mumbles something under his breath, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Did he even remember to bring the rings?"

"Oh, yes, of course."

Johnny fumbles with his pocket, trying to fish out the small bands, but while doing so, he accidentally elbows you, making you drop the candle. Oh, no.

The candle rolls away from you, much too fast for you to catch it, the dress of Lady MacTavish slowly catching fire.

"Lady MacTavish!"

You quickly hurry over, stomping on her dress in a weak attempt to get rid of the flames. It does not take long for the butler to return with a bucket of water, emptying the contents over the fire and you.

"Enough!"

The tall man stands up even straighter, towering over everyone in the room.

"This wedding can not take place until both of them are properly prepared. Both of you, learn your vows."

He nearly pushes his pointer finger in your eye as you nervously look from him, to your parents, to Johnny's parents. The young man quickly pushes open the door, hurrying out as you follow behind him. He is, however, much too fast, almost running up the stairs, but not before accidentally dropping something from his pocket.

His ring.

You quickly scoop it up, holding it close before rushing out of the house. You need to be away from this place, if even just for a moment. The ring will be safe in your possession, so hopefully Johnny will not get in any more trouble if he fully loses it. The band is much too big to fit your fingers, it has to be the one belonging to Johnny. Either that, or they were really bad at measuring your rings.

"They must think I am a fool," you groan, slowly walking up to the bridge, shaking your head. "I mean, what did I even think? I set her dress on fire!"

You twirl the ring around in your fingers, crossing the bridge, the woods in front of you.

"Not only that, but I can not even seem to remember the stupid vows. It is just a couple of sentences!"

The next fifteen minutes are spent trying to go over the same vows again and again. At one point, you weren't even sure anymore if the words you were speaking even existed. You decided to sit down on a fallen tree, leaning against it as you twirled the ring in between your fingers again.

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine," you whisper, looking at one of the branches right next to you. "With this candle I will light your way into the darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine."

You slip the ring onto the branch, huffing as you lean back even more. Mud and sand are staining your dress now, but as you look over at the ring again to take if off of the stick, something grabs your wrist.

A yelp leaves your lips as you try and pull your arm back, but it seems like the branches have wrapped themselves around your wrists. It nearly pulls you down into the ground before you fall backwards.

"Ouch!"

You shake your head, looking up, but you still feel the grip around your arm. On it are bones, a hand, still gripping you.

"Oh my God!"

A figure rises from the sand, clawing at the dirt as it slowly stands up, dirt and leaves falling from its shoulders. On their face, a skull, though quite obviously a mask. He is missing his left arm - is that what gripped you?

"I do."

He does? What does he do? You glance down, the ring that you put onto the branch now around its bony finger. No.

No.

Another scream leaves your body as you hurry to scramble up, running as fast as you can with the dress you are wearing. The ground is uneven and it is dark, but the figure does not seem fazed. You rush, leaves and branches hitting you in the face and hooking onto your clothing. Do you dare to look back? Once you do, you see the figure catching up to you, its arm now attached to its body again.

You reach the bridge, your breathing heavy as you almost rip the corset off of your body. Why did your mother insist on tightlacing it? Well, you had not expected on having to run through the woods. Is it gone? You look back to the woods, the figure seemingly gone as you let out a relieved sigh. You take a few steps back, but immediately stop when you feel that you bump into something. Slowly turning around, you are met with someone's chest.

Its the figure.

He looks down at you, his eyes peeking out from the mask. He is wearing a clean suit, a white flower in his pocket, and the ring around his fingers.

"I have to say, that is one hell of a way to ask me to marry you, love."

[wintervalewritersecond]

requests are OPEN!

hi! long time no see, but i hope to be back again! its been a while, and my requests are completely open again!

for characters from stranger things, wednesday, and a new addition, call of duty! <3

i have some ideas for fics (maybe an extra chapter from siren song [which is almost a year ago since i last posted about it], cod ghost corpse bride au, second part of 'up and gone', eddie munson halloween pranks, maybe some angst, all that stuff...) but please let me know if you have any requests!

[wintervalewritersecond]

Hi! 👩‍🎨 anon here, if it’s alright with you I would like to send in a little angsty request for Xavier-

The reader and Xavier are best friends, and upon Wednesday’s arrival at school the readers feelings for Xavier deepen, however she can sense how Xavier feels for Wednesday and one night, in the early hours of the morning, the reader takes off. She ups and leaves Nevermore because she can’t handle the ache in her chest. Xavier, being the psychic that he is, has a vision and tries to stop her. He bursts into her room only to find her side of the room completely empty…

He was too late :(

You can add fluff if you’d like, maybe once Xavier realises that Wednesday is all for Enid?

hi! i just posted this, you can read it here!

i hope you like it, and the second part will hopefully be out soon :) sorry for not writing as much as i used to, life is getting a bit busy but thank you for all the notes, followers, requests and love! <3

[wintervalewritersecond]

up and gone - xavier thorpe

masterlist wednesday masterlist

requested: yes! requests: open! Hi! 👩‍🎨 anon here, if it’s alright with you I would like to send in a little angsty request for Xavier-The reader and Xavier are best friends, and upon Wednesday’s arrival at school the readers feelings for Xavier deepen, however she can sense how Xavier feels for Wednesday and one night, in the early hours of the morning, the reader takes off. She ups and leaves Nevermore because she can’t handle the ache in her chest. Xavier, being the psychic that he is, has a vision and tries to stop her. He bursts into her room only to find her side of the room completely empty…He was too late :(You can add fluff if you’d like, maybe once Xavier realizes that Wednesday is all for Enid?

AN: hi! i hope i did this request justice :') also, i absolutely love it when people put emoji's to sign their asks, so cute! i hope you enjoy reading this and thank you for the request :D part 2 is coming!

word count: 4.839 warnings: she/her reader, gif is not xavier (i did not keep up with the percy hynes white thing lately :/), angst, fluff at the end, reader does not immediately forgive xavier (SORRY!!), reader has the ability to grow/control plants, doesn't quite follow the right timeline of the show

You and Xavier were together. As best friends. Never did you expect him to crush you like this. And he did not even realize it.

"Here you go, Sleeping Beauty," you push the tray of food toward your friend who now sits opposite you, out of breath and his tie barely tied. "I can't believe you overslept. Again."

Xavier gives you a look before gripping the fork, pricking at the eggs before pushing them into his mouth.

"If it wasn't for a certain someone that wanted to watch every single Twilight movie in one night-"

"Hey!" You let out a laugh, taking a sip of your lukewarm chocolate milk. "I didn't hear any complaints!"

The boy shrugs, grinning at you before quickly eating the rest of his breakfast. There were only about ten minutes left, and he also still needed to brush his hair and fix his tie. The movies were not necessarily what kept him up - he had a lot of things occupying his mind. He had another nightmare about some monster, and he was simply just too scared to go to sleep again.

You fish a small hairbrush out of your bag, getting up before seating yourself next to Xavier. Ever since you found out that he likes to sleep in, you have been taking a 'Xavier care package' with you in your school bag. It has a hairbrush, hair tie, muesli bar, and even a tiny bottle of his favorite cologne. You slowly brush his hair, making sure not to tug too hard.

The bell rings just as you throw the brush back in your bag as Xavier now also stands up, taking your tray in one hand and his own in the other, quickly disposing of them before jogging back to you.

"Thank you for breakfast," he grins, bumping his shoulder into yours before slinging his bag over his shoulder.

When you go to reach for your bag, you see that it has already disappeared as Xavier holds it in his hands.

"Time for Botany!"

-

Botany is a subject that is almost like second nature to you. You have grown up with the ability to control plants and flowers, being able to make them move and grow in the exact pattern you wish them to. In some magical way, you and Xavier were the first ones to sit down in the classroom, taking your usual seat in the front of the class.

"Hey," Ajax greets the two of you before sitting down at the table behind you.

"Morning, Ajax!"

"Man," he rubs his face. "Did you hear about the new girl?"

You shake your head, turning around fully to face the Gorgon.

"Yeah, Enid told me that it is her new roommate or something. Apparently, she got kicked out of her old school because she murdered and ate a kid."

A laugh escapes from both Xavier and you. Nevermore would not let a murderer into their grounds.

"Dude," Xavier chuckles. "Whatever you just smoked, share some with us tonight."

"Good morning, everyone!"

The red-headed teacher stands in front of the class, clapping her hands as she points to a plant that seems to be hidden underneath a glass case and a thin, red fabric.

"Today marks the very start of a new... Genre! But first," she looks over at the table next to yours. "Wednesday. Welcome! We are thrilled to have you join us on our journey into the world of carnivorous plants!"

She pulls the fabric off of the glass case, smiling brightly at the white flower underneath it.

"So, who can tell us the name of this beauty?"

Bianca holds up her hand, ready to answer it. She knows almost as much about Botany as you do.

"Dendrophylax lindenii."

You raise an eyebrow as Bianca looks to the side, confused. Instead of waiting for her turn, Wednesday had just taken it upon herself to answer the question.

"Otherwise known as the ghost orchid," Bianca only smiles, looking Wednesday up and down.

"First discovered on the Isle of Wight in 1854," Wednesday then continues as Thornhill is visibly surprised by her knowledge.

"Well, Wednesday," the teacher taps her chin. "Perhaps you can identify the ghost orchid's greatest qualities."

"Resilience and adaptability."

There is no second of thinking, of doubt. The answer flies out of her mouth in a millisecond, and the answer is not even wrong. Though, the girl speaks with enough confidence to make any answer seem right.

"It's able to thrive in even the most hostile environments."

"But," Bianca grins at her. "Its mere presence can change the ecosystem, causing the established plants to reject it."

The two bicker back and forth as you hide your laugh behind your face, leaning toward Xavier.

"Is this still about plants?" He whispers, a grin also stuck on his face as he looks at the two girls in amusement.

"Thank you, ladies," Thornhill just quickly nods, trying to break off whatever fight the two girls have. "Very... Illuminating insights. Now-"

You do not pay a lot of attention during the rest of the class. You knew all that needed to be known. Xavier scribbled in his notebook, his attention also far to be seen.

-

Wednesday seems to be the center of attention at Nevermore. Not only did she already get into two fights with Bianca, but she also is a huge mystery. What is her power, outside of being dark and sinister?

"Can you hand me the black paint?"

You look up from the flower that you were slowly starting to grow, taking the tub of paint before handing it to Xavier. He is busy painting the small boat for the Poe Cup. He had tried to get you to join the Ophelia Hall team, but you decided against it. You enjoyed watching the Poe Cup, but to actually participate? No.

Xavier thanks you before you both get to your own activities again. The sun is shining as you slowly move your fingers, still staring at the patch of grass as the small flower grows and grows.

"Y/N?"

You hum, the flower slowly stretching out to touch Xavier his shoes.

"Wanna do my make-up for the Cup?"

-

"Xavier! Sit still," you laugh, pulling the brush back. "I only have five more minutes to finish this!"

The boy was getting restless as you stood in front of him, trying to finish up on the clown paint on his face. He was now getting bored, distracting you from your work.

It had only taken you two more minutes to finish the red color as you step back, a proud grin on your face.

"See! Wasn't that hard!"

Xavier hops over to the mirror, observing your job before smiling and nodding.

"If I didn't know any better, then I would have thought that you had the power of Animation."

"Dude?"

Ajax pokes his head around the corner, waving at you with a smile before turning back to his friend.

"We have to get to the boats, man."

"You will be cheering me on, right?"

"Pssh," you smirk. "Always."

-

Xavier had been a bit distant after the Poe Cup. You had heard through Kent and Divina that Wednesday had suddenly shown up in the Nightshade library and that your friend had tried to get her to join, only to be rejected.

You get pulled out of your thoughts when you get an envelope from Coach Vlad. You quietly thank him as you look up at the principal.

"... I trust that you will all put your best face forward!"

You open the envelope as neat letters spell out 'Weathervane, Jericho'. It could have been worse. If you were stuck in Pilgrim World for an entire day, then you probably would have just run away to the woods, hiding in a bush before it was time to come back out.

Ajax pops up from right behind you, holding his envelope in front of you.

"Uriah's Heap?" You raise your eyebrow with a grin.

"Uh-uh," he nods, "Apparently Xavier really wanted it. But, I heard from Wednesday that Enid is also going to be there."

He still had a crush on Enid? You look behind him, seeing Wednesday and Enid standing close, though Wednesday is still deadpanned.

"Um," you awkwardly shift your weight to your other foot. "Well... What did Xavier get?"

"Weathervane."

"Why did he want to switch?"

You knew why. He hated Tyler with his entire might.

"Long story. Basically, Wednesday had Uriah's Heap, but then switched with Enid to go to Pilgrim World instead. Now me and Enid are going to be at the Heap! What did you get?"

"Weathervane."

"Oh! At least you aren't going to be alone. You will have Xavier!"

You look to your right, seeing Xavier standing there with a slightly disappointed look.

"Yeah."

-

Xavier did not even look at you while you were in the bus to Jericho. Instead, he got out of the vehicle as one of the first ones, Wednesday soon catching up to him. Staring at a blank wall, how interesting could that be? You just make your way past them and toward your workplace for today, not noticing the burning eyes of Xavier on the back of your head.

"Hey! Nevermore kid, right?"

The bell rang above your head as you see a brunette boy standing in front of you, a big, goofy smile on his face. He is wearing a brown shirt and a dark red apron.

"Yeah, that's me," you nod with a small smile. "I am Y/N."

"Perfect! Uh, was there going to be someone else?"

He blinks for a second, shaking his head quickly before awkwardly laughing.

"Not- Not that you aren't enough! I just mean-"

"No problem," you chuckle. "I heard that there should be someone else."

"Okay," the boy nods. "I am Tyler, by the way. I will be guiding you through the craft of coffee making today!"

You are already dressed with the t-shirt and the dark red apron when Xavier finally comes in. Tyler immediately tenses up a bit as he walks up to the counter, the piece of paper with 'Weathervane' in his hand.

"I'm supposed to be here."

Tyler nervously looks at you before straightening his back, nodding at the boy in front of him.

"Yeha, I uh, I will get you an apron," Tyler turns to you. "You can make yourself a drink if you would like. Consider it as practice."

You thank him with a smile on your face. This is the first time in a while that you are with just Xavier again, but he almost seems less than happy.

"So," you grab a cup from the counter. "Any drinks? I can make you a cappuccino?"

He shakes his head, dropping his bag behind the counter before taking the apron out of Tyler his hands. Your friend doesn't say a word while you only return to finishing up your hot chocolate. There is no one in the Weathervane yet, so you might as well enjoy it for as long as you can.

The small bell dings above the entrance as Principal Weems comes in. Tyler greets her with a smile as he places the cappuccino that you were practicing on to the side.

"You want to try?"

You shrug.

"Sure," you respond with a smile, before turning to Principal Weems. "Hi! How can I help you, Principal Weems?"

She smiles at you sweetly before scanning the menu.

"Ah, I will settle for a latte macchiato and a slice of the apple cake, please.

You shoot Tyler a confused look. You had never used the register before, or even heard of a latte. He only smiles, reassuring you before stepping a bit closer, showing you how the register works.

"So, the pastries are here," he clicks on the apple cake. "And then a latte."

He is leaning over you as he presses different buttons. He is so close to you, that you can smell the fresh scent of his perfume. Tyler finishes up the order as Principal Weems sits down in a booth, flipping through pages of her notebook.

Tyler doesn't leave you behind though, as he shows you how to make the drink to perfection. You have never even made anything like this, but it actually is quite fun.

"So, everything on a tray," the cup and the small plate get placed onto one. "And then it's ready! Xavier, you want to bring it?"

He doesn't say anything, instead just lifting up the tray before walking over to the principal.

"Weren't the two of you, like, friends?" He whispers quickly.

You were always in the Weathervane with Xavier. Sure, the tall boy has quite a history with the artist, but the way he acts now seems out of place, even to him.

"Yeah," you nod. "He's been ignoring me, though."

-

The day flies by. You have made more coffee than you had expected to make, but luckily you are able to drink as much as you want. It is nearing two pm, and you have already downed four hot chocolates.

"Aren't you supposed to be at Pilgrim World?"

You almost think that Xavier is talking to you, but when you look up, you see him standing next to Wednesday. The pig-tailed girl turns around, facing him while shaking her head.

"I left to preserve some of my sanity."

"Could I make you a drink? One of the many perks of this wonderful job," he sarcastically says, leaning against the counter.

For the entire day, he had not spoken a word to you. But now, now that Wednesday is here, he immediately finds back his voice. The girl raises one eyebrow before shaking her head.

"I need to talk to Tyler."

The grin that sat on Xavier his face quickly drops as you just breathe in deeply.

"Hey, Wednesday," you quickly smile. "I uh, I will get Tyler. He is having his break right now."

She nods as you walk away from behind the counter, passing Xavier before making it to the small room in the back. Tyler decided to take his break now as there weren't too many guests yet. He is looking down at his phone, only looking up when he hears your footsteps.

"Oh, hey!"

"Hey," you point to the door. "Wednesday is here. Said she needed to talk to you?"

"Uh, yeah! Yeah, I'm coming."

You nod before taking a deep breath, looking at the clock on the wall. You then follow Tyler out of the small room and go back to your place behind the counter. Wednesday and Tyler soon engage in a hushed conversation as Xavier looks away, walking around to pick up things from the tables again. He seems upset, and though you want to help him, you aren't sure if you can. It is almost like he is... jealous.

"Y/N? Do you know how to make a Quad?"

"For sure!"

"In a to-go cup," Wednesday tells you before turning back to the papers on the table.

It takes only a few minutes before the small cup is placed on the counter. Wednesday takes it before walking off, not sparing anyone else a look. Xavier, however, follows her with his eyes, not even looking away from the window after she long has disappeared.

Maybe he didn't feel the same way about you as you did about him. You always thought so - normal best friends didn't cuddle or even share secret kisses.

-

It was after school, and you decided to make a trip down to the art shed to go see Xavier. He had not really been responding to your texts, and you were slowly starting to get worried. What if he had nightmares again? You knew that he barely took care of himself in times like that, so you had bought some of his favorite foods and drinks to bring to him. You had checked with Ajax to see if he knew where your friend was, but he knew of nothing.

You and Xavier are- were inseparable, always together, wherever you were. But now, you had not really spoken to him in weeks. The bag is quite heavy, but nothing you couldn't handle. You hum when you enter the woods, your fingers tingling as small flowers sprout up when you walk. Your mood is surprisingly happy, hoping to see Xavier and spend some time with him.

It is not like you have never been to the art shed - if anything, you are one of the only people at Nevermore that knows about its existence, let alone of its whereabouts. You get closer and closer to the small building, your other hand now holding the bag as a small patch of daisies stays behind.

You walk a bit slower when you already hear voices coming from the shed.

"... over Ms. Thornhill's homework assignment."

Homework from Ms. Thornhill? She didn't assign any - she specifically stated it.

"She... She didn't give us homework."

It's Xavier.

You peak out from behind the tree, seeing Xavier standing there, Wednesday Addams opposite of him.

"Remember?" He chuckles. "Why are you really out here?"

The pig-tailed girl stays quiet, her eyes never leaving Xavier as he grins, an eyebrow raised before leaning down just a tiny bit.

"Wait," he lets out a soft laugh. "Is this about a certain dance that makes you want to poke needles into your eyes, perhaps?"

The Rave'n? He had promised months ago that he would go with you, so why is he bringing it up now? Not to mention that Wednesday is probably less than excited for it. She almost looks distraught as she swallows, a grimace almost on her face.

"I'm all ears."

There he stands, with that stupid grin that you so wished was pointed towards you. But instead, he is standing there with someone that would not even care if he died. Wednesday seems deep in thought, trying to go over the choices she actually has.

"Are you really going to make me ask?"

"Oh," he exclaims, that smile never leaving his face. "Absolutely."

Wednesday sighs, her hands clasped together as she tries to find any words to get it out.

"Would you," she pauses. "Would... Would you possibly consider going to the Rave'n dance with a certain..."

Xavier nods, his hands resting in his pockets as he looks at the pig-tailed girl, an amused look in his eyes.

"Would- Would you go to the dance with me?"

She is not even stuttering because she is shy, or scared he is going to reject her. No. She has just never uttered those words in her life, and she does not wish for it to happen again. You swallow thickly, your eyes falling to the bag in your hands as you hear more chuckles coming from your best friend. The plants around you slowly start wilting.

"Yes, Wednesday, I would love to go to the dance with you." He shrugs. "I thought you would never ask."

You immediately turn on your heels, rushing back to your dorm room. You do not care who follows you, all you care about is getting as far away from Xavier as possible. Not only did he ignore you, but now he is going to the Rave'n with Wednesday, though you were certain that you agreed on going together.

"God, I can't wait for Rave'n next year," you sighed, scrolling through your phone.

You were supposed to attend the dance, but Nevermore had to cancel it because of a fire that had broken out in the lower part of the school.

"Still going with George next year?"

"No! He told me that he only wanted to take me because someone bet on it."

Xavier grimaces, shaking his head before plopping down on his bed.

"Good, he is an ass anyway."

"What about you? Any date for next year?"

"Hm," he thinks. "Not really. We can always go together. You and me."

What a lie that was. The Rave'n is only in three days, and the end of the school year will be in just two weeks after that.

-

It has barely been twenty-four hours since you had seen Xavier and Wednesday at the art shed. You were sitting at breakfast, quietly pushing your food around with your fork.

"God," Divina sits down next to you, "Did you not get any sleep?"

"I wish," you let out a sigh. "Just dreading to go to the Rave'n."

"Why? I thought you had a dress and everything already."

You glance at the Siren who is sipping her drink, a curious look in her eyes as she leans on the table.

"I was supposed to go with Xavier. We agreed on that, like, half a year ago. But yesterday, Wednesday asked him out and he said yes!"

"What a guy," she shakes her head. "He has been acting strange for like, weeks now. Not that he wasn't strange before. No offense."

"Tell me about it," you let out a giggle, sipping your apple juice before pushing the tray back.

"If you don't want a date, you can always tag along with me!"

-

It is ten thirty when you hear a knock on your dorm door. Your roommate was going to be out for a bit, sneaking around with her partner, and besides, she had the key. Who else would show up? Especially during the time you should be sleeping. You let out a sigh when you hear another knock, slowly standing up to open the door.

Behind it stands Xavier, a glum look on his face as he lets out a shaky sigh. He fiddles with the hem of his shirt, something he only did when he was nervous.

"Xavier?"

"Yeah," a small smile. "Can I please come in? Thornhill will kill me if she sees me here."

You stick your head out of the door before pulling him in, quietly closing the door behind him as you turn around to face him.

"Haven't seen you in a while."

It almost felt weird to stand this close to him, the smell of his perfume and paint sticking to his clothes. His hair is loosely tied in a small bun, a style that always resulted in him stealing your hair ties.

"I just... I need you."

You frown, sitting down on your bed before tapping next to you. Are you mad and disappointed that he ignored you? Yes. But he must have seen that he was acting weird.

"Wednesday thinks I am some sort of monster. Asked me out to the Rave'n as some type of disguise."

He slowly sits down as well, staring at his hands as you reach over into the bag that you had brought for him today. You take the small bag of Skittles out of it, placing it on his lap. His lips push together in a smile, looking over at you.

"I'm sorry for ignoring you. There is just-" Another sigh. "The nightmares came back. Even worse than before."

You grimace, pulling your knees up to your chest.

"God," you shake your head. "You okay?"

"Outside the fact that my art is starting to attack me and that I haven't slept in a few days, kind of."

He opens the pack of Skittles, holding it out to you before taking a Skittle himself.

"I'm sorry Wednesday did that to you," you then finally mumble.

Sure, you wished you were with him instead, but he did not deserve that to happen to him.

"I deserved it," he shrugs. "After ignoring my best friend, I deserve some karma. I'm so, so sorry."

You look up at him, his eyes pulling you in as you let out a trembly sigh. What are you supposed to say?

"As long as you never do it again," you smile softly.

"What about the Rave'n? You and me."

You are quiet for a second. It is exactly what he said before, and you should not forget that he ignored you for weeks. But, going all by yourself will also suck.

"Only if you promise to match with me," you grin.

"Oh, always!"

-

It is the night of the Rave'n and you were putting on your last few items. Xavier was going to have some black ribbons with his outfit, so you knew that you wanted some as well. He had cut some off for you, which you happily tied into your hair and around your wrists. After spritzing some perfume on your neck and wrists, you hear a knock on your door.

You quickly walk toward it, opening it to reveal Xavier, neatly dressed in his suit and his hair pushed out of his face.

"Wow," he mumbles, clearing his throat before smiling, holding out his arm. "Ready?"

"Ready!"

The music gets louder the closer you get to the party, Ms. Thornhill standing in front of the door to greet everyone. You look up at Xavier with a big smile on your face. You are finally here, with him, at the Rave'n. It could not have been any better. There are curtains with warm fairy lights that reflect in his eyes. He looks beautiful.

After greeting Ajax and his date, you both sit down at a table, drinking some Yeti-tinis while talking about everything you possibly could. You missed him, and he had missed you. Ajax and his date had also decided to sit down at your table, and even Divina had found her way over to the two of you.

Xavier his hand had ghosted over your knees and thighs multiple times, the touch of his fingers so soft as it almost felt like you imagined it.

"Woah, check that out!" Ajax points to the door, a surprised look on his face. "Wednesday totally busted out of her cocoon."

Wednesday walks into the party, almost looking disgusted as she hears the music and sees the people. The thing that confused you more was Tyler Galpin standing next to her. Did she really pick Tyler? Your eyes slide over to Xavier, his eyes trained on the girl as his eyebrows are furrowed. His jaw is clenched and his fists are resting on his lap.

"Xav? You okay?"

You knew all about the things Tyler did to him, including the last Outreach Day. He shrugs you off, shaking his head before letting out a sigh.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Never better."

It took Wednesday not even one second to erase all the effort that you had put into cheering Xavier up. It had only taken some more seconds before the boy stood up, making his way through the crowd of people while leaving you behind. You should have expected this. You chew on your cheek as you shake your head, blinking a few times before crossing your arms.

"Hey! No, nothing of that," Divina shakes her head, standing up before grabbing your hands. "I am your date now!"

The dancing cheered you up. No matter if it was a slow dance, or if you were jumping up and down, it helped a lot. You had not seen Xavier again until the next song was playing. He was sitting in the same seat, his eyes looking into the crowd, and for a second, you thought that he was looking for you.

But no.

In the middle of the room stood Wednesday. Dancing. Something you never expected to see. And it didn't only catch your attention, but also his.

You took this as a chance to get another Yeti-tini, waiting for the song to end while still looking at Xavier.

"Y/N, come on! It's the last dance!"

Fuck it. You are going to have fun.

Divina pulls you onto the dance floor, jumping up and down while twirling you around. Laughs escape your lips as you are surrounded by your friends, it is everything you could wish for.

The fun doesn't last too long, though, as some sort of liquid comes falling down from the ceiling. You pause for a second, looking down at your clothes before realizing that the liquid is red.

"Come on, let's go!"

You are confused, still standing in the same position while trying to get out, but the floor is slippery and your shoes make it even harder to try and find your way out. You bump into Xavier as you both try to get out, but the only thing he does is keep walking.

That was it.

-

"An early leave?"

You slowly nod.

"It is a family get-away. Something that only happens every ten years. We uh, we go and restore plants and forests that need it."

Principal Weems looks at you, an eyebrow raised before looking down at her laptop.

"I see," she nods. "Well, it seems that you did have perfect attendance and grades during this year. Any more tests or essays that need to be made?"

"No," you respond. "Everything has been handed in already."

"Good," the woman looks up at you, a sweet smile on her face. "Only this once. I assume you will be leaving next Wednesday?"

The word makes your throat tighten as you shake your head.

"Actually... Would tomorrow be okay?"

[wintervalewritersecond]

Do you have rules or guidelines regarding requests? Like do you write smut, angst, cheating, toxic relationship, etc? Are there any particular topics you are uncomfortable with?

hi! i am answering this ask together with

"What are your rules for requests? :) - 👩‍🎨"

the only thing I can think of right now is that i do not write full on smut. i am comfortable with kissing scenes etc, but i do not see myself writing anything more 'intense' than that :/

i don't think i have ever written about a toxic relationship, but i do not see myself writing the characters as extremely mean :)

i do love writing angst, though i am not sure if i am any good at it, but i do always try! <3 thank you for asking!

[wintervalewritersecond]

Gareth!!!!!! saw you were looking for requests for him and I was so excited snnsnsnsjsbs

I’d absolutely adore anything cute and cuddly like nap time in Gareth’s room just something warm it’s cold here rn and it’s all I can think about

Thank you!!!

hi! i just posted this, you can read it here! i hope you like it, its a bit on the shorter side though :/

[wintervalewritersecond]

cuddle bug - gareth emerson

masterlist

stranger things masterlist

requested: yes! requests: open! Gareth!!!!!! saw you were looking for requests for him and I was so excited snnsnsnsjsbs i’d absolutely adore anything cute and cuddly like nap time in Gareth’s room just something warm it’s cold here rn and it’s all I can think about Thank you!!!

AN: wahh so cute! gareth definitely would be super cuddly i think :') thank you for your request and i hope you enjoy &lt;;33

wordcount: 1.447 warnings: she/her reader, gareth has a little sister,

No place better to be than in the arms of your boyfriend. Especially when it is cold outside.

"Shit- Come in!"

Gareth quickly wraps his arm around you, pulling you inside and away from the cold. The boy kicks the door closed, his hands rubbing your back and arms in an attempt to warm you up. He knows that you insisted that he didn't have to pick you up, but he now wished he would have just taken the car to drive over to your house.

"Shit, my love," he takes your gloves off. "You're freezing!"

"Yeah," you sniff. "Kind of underestimated how cold it was going to be."

You unzip your jacket as Gareth takes it out of your hands, hanging it up on the coat rack before guiding you to the small living room. His little sister is sitting at the dining table, scribbling away on a piece of paper as colored crayons are spread around her.

"Y/N!" She jumps up out of her chair, running toward you before wrapping her arms around your waist. Not that she can reach any higher.

"Oh, hello!" You kneel down, wrapping your arms around her before she pulls you away from Gareth and toward the kitchen table.

"Look what I made!"

Gareth leans against the door frame, his arms crossed and a smile on his face. You always get along with his sisters, no matter what the situation is. Even when you are extremely tired, you still go out of your way to greet them with just as much enthusiasm as all the times before. When he sees you rubbing your arms, he immediately runs upstairs, retrieving the first long-sleeved shirt he can find before walking back downstairs.

You are still sitting with his little sister, admiring the drawing on the paper.

"And this is Gareth, and this is me," she points out as you 'ah!' and 'wow!'.

You don't even realize Gareth came back until you feel a new weight on your shoulders. One of his many red flannels rests on your frame now and you smile at him, thanking him before putting the flannel on. The door opens again, a gust of cold air circulating through the house before it quickly closes.

"Gosh, it is way too cold outside," Gareth his mom shivers, walking into the living room with a grocery bag in her hands. "Oh! Y/N, it's so nice to see you. Tea, anyone?"

"Hello, Mrs. Emerson!" You immediately stand up, hugging the woman before pointing to the kitchen. "I would love to make everyone some if that is okay?"

"Oh, I would love to," she lets out a sigh. "I will put the groceries away. You are a darling, Y/N!"

A laugh escapes your lips as you fill the kettle, turning it on before opening the cabinet to pull an assortment of tea bags out. Gareth and his little sister quickly pick their own little bag before you pick yours. It doesn't take long for Mrs. Emerson to re-enter the kitchen, also taking her pick before placing the remaining bags back in the cabinet.

"Can I please get that cup?" Gareth his little sister points up to the cupboard, but you don't know which one she wants.

"Here," Gareth kneels down. "Hop on."

The little girl squeals as her brother jumps up, leaning over to the cupboard so she can grab the mug she wanted. He then takes out more mugs, including your favorite.

In only a few minutes, everyone is sitting at the dining table, sipping their tea and enjoying a small piece of cake that Mrs. Emerson had brought home from the store. You listen to the story that she was telling, laughing along with the jokes while also looking at the new drawing that his little sister had made.

Though you love sitting here with his family, you still felt cold and were also slowly starting to get tired. You had taken your bag with you as you originally planned to watch a movie with Gareth, but were now too caught up in the conversation. You hide your mouth behind your hand to hide your yawn, but Gareth catches on to it.

"Uh, mom?"

His mother looks up at him, nodding before taking a sip.

"Y/N and I wanted to watch a movie, so we're going to go upstairs if that is fine?"

"Oh, of course! No problem," she smiles before averting her gaze to you. "Are you staying the night? I am planning pancakes for breakfast!"

"I would love to," you immediately smile. "You can count on me for kitchen help."

"No, darling," she shakes her head. "You go ahead and watch that movie, all right?"

Gareth nods, his arm around your shoulders as the two of you go upstairs. The heating in the second level of the house is lower than downstairs - no one was going to be sitting here anyway. Besides, there are other ways to warm up.

Gareth his bedroom is cozy. It is not too big, something you quite appreciated. He has a big window and the window sill is filled with small figurines and candles. In the corner stands a big bookcase filled with books and more small figurines, together with his collection of different dice. He also has a desk with a small television on it, a bean bag, and a dozen posters on his walls. It smells like him as well. Like vanilla, a hint of weed, warmth, and comfort. God, you love his room.

"Okay, so I picked up some stuff on my way," you zip open your backpack. "I got..."

You tip the backpack over, everything spilling out of it.

"Your favorite candy, that movie you wanted to watch." you hand him the objects one by one. "More candy, chips, oh! And I finally found that die that you left at my house."

When you look back up, you see Gareth already looking at you, his hands now filled.

"God," he places everything on his night stand. "I love you so much."

He tackles you onto the bed as you giggle, his hands holding onto your waist as he presses kisses all over your face. His hands feel warm on your body, and his lips are soft as he pecks your cheek for the 20th time. When he pulls back, you look at him with a gentle smile. Gosh, what did you ever do to deserve this?

"Gareth?"

The boy hums, pressing a kiss on your forehead before falling to your side.

"Can I take something out of your closet to wear? I can't sleep in jeans."

"Uh, yeah!" He nods, rolling off of the bed before opening his closet.

He looks through it for a bit, finally pulling out a pair of pajama pants and his grey, long-sleeved shirt. For himself, he also picks out a pair of red flannel pants and a black shirt.

You thank him before quickly switching the clothes, shivering in the cold air before you sit back on his bed, crawling underneath the covers. Gareth takes the movie out of its case before pushing the VHS into the small tv, filling the room with sound. It doesn't take long for him to lay down by your side, his arm underneath your head and his other slung around your waist.

A content sigh leaves your lips as you nuzzle your face closer to his chest. He smells absolutely amazing. Your attention doesn't stay on the movie for that long. Instead, you opted to watch your boyfriend. Though you look at him all the time, he still looks just as mesmerizing as the first time you saw him. You still remember the first time you saw him - he had just gotten out of the Hellfire room, cheering with his friends. It must have been a good game. He didn't expect someone to walk around the corner, and neither did you. He had caught you just before you hit the ground, his hands holding you steady. From then on, you were a goner.

Gareth moves to look at you, checking to see if you had fallen asleep, but is surprised when he sees your eyes still open.

"Not cold anymore?"

You quickly shake your head. You stopped being cold a while ago, finally cuddled up with him underneath a thick layer of blankets.

"Good," he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead before averting his gaze back to the movie.

You can hear the wind outside, howling as it races past the house. The small patter of raindrops can be heard as they splash against the windows. But you don't care. You're not outside. You are inside, warm, comfortable, and cuddled up with Gareth.

There is nothing better than that.

[wintervalewritersecond]

stranger things masterlist

Eddie Munson

coming soon

Gareth Emerson

Promposal

Cuddle Bug

Steve Harrington

coming soon

Billy Hargrove

coming soon

[wintervalewritersecond]

newfound emotions - rowan laslow

masterlist

requested: yes! requests: open! Helloo I really like your rowan fics I love how you characterize him, and I love the enemies to lovers so maybe you could do a part two of that enemies to lovers fic with the reader and Rowan spending time together and one of them confessing unintentionally, i just want sum fluff (♡μ_μ)

&

I LOVED YOUR ROWAN ENEMIES TO LOVERS FANFIC SM, I JUST NEED MORE OF THAT 😫😫😫 (if you want ofc c:)))

AN: WAHH im glad you liked it! thank you for liking how i write rowan :') we don't have too much information abt him from the netflix show, so i am secretly (not so secretly) hoping that he will return in season two :) for now, thank you, and have fun reading!

wordcount: 2.916 warnings: she/her reader, xavier is mentioned/in scenes, friends to lovers, high reader, talk about weed

After finally getting back and being scolded by your teachers, you hang out with Rowan more and more. Much to everyone's surprise.

"And where have you been, miss Y/L/N and mister Laslow?"

"We," you raise your eyebrows. "Got stuck in the rain, had to walk back, and then we had to sleep in some abandoned-looking hotel until we could get a bus back."

Principal Weems leans back in her chair, looking at you with one eyebrow raised. You looked like you just woke up - you did. You had accidentally fallen asleep while on the bus, Rowan waking you up again. This time, softly. No elbow to the ribs, but instead, soft taps on your shoulders. He even carried your bag to Nevermore.

You had ended up in the office, standing in front of Weems awkwardly. She only blinked, before breathing in deeply.

"Okay. You have missed classes today," she looks at the two of you sternly. "You can get the homework from the teachers, make sure to finish that. You are dismissed."

You give Rowan a look before turning around, leaving the office and finally sighing as the door closes behind the two of you. How was it your fault that they left without you? Sure, you should have been at the bus on time, but they should have done their job to make sure everyone was there.

"So," he lets out an awkward laugh. "Ready to catch up on some sleep?"

"I'm already as awake as I can be," you smile. "Maybe we can go for breakfast?"

"Quad or Weathervane?"

"Oh," you exclaim. "Weathervane, for sure! Have you ever had their cinnamon rolls?"

"Cinnamon rolls for breakfast?"

"Let's put our stuff away and go to the Weathervane. I am not taking this bag again and I really want to change into a new set of clothes."

Rowan agrees with you, sending you a quick smile before walking off to his own room. It still quite confused you to suddenly be so... friendly, with him. You had completely forgotten that that is how it started. To be honest, you didn't even realize that Rowan had heard it.

When Rowan enters his dorm, he sees Xavier waiting for him already.

"Man, where were you?!"

"Oh, hey," he awkwardly greets his roommate. "Yeah, uh, Weems kinda left me and Y/N stranded at that museum."

"Jesus," the boy grimaces. "In the storm? And with Y/N? Sounds like your nightmare."

Though Xavier knows all about the little fights between you and Rowan. He is friends with both of you, so he often heard both sides of whatever argument it was.

"No," he shakes his head. "We went to get a hotel after running through the rain."

Xavier doesn't hear any mean remarks about how you were annoying, stupid, dumb, or anything else. Something rather unusual.

"No fighting?"

"Eh," Rowan lets out a laugh. "A little bit. Apparently, she didn't even remember why we started fighting."

Xavier leans against his desk, raising an eyebrow. He had heard multiple times about the origin of Rowan and his hatred for you. Not only that, but the conversation was actually between you and Xavier.

"We actually made up."

"Huh?" Xavier exclaims with a laugh. "Is that real? I have never seen people bicker as much as the two of you."

The bag that sat on Rowan his shoulder gets placed on the floor as he pulls everything out. Some of the stuff was still damp as there was no place for all of it to dry. Even the notebook that was hidden in the bottom of the bag had not fully survived.

"Yeah, it's real," he nods. "Apparently, she did like me back then."

"Oh, I totally thought that already. But then she made that comment and it completely- poof."

All the damp clothes get discarded into the bathroom as Rowan quickly pulls a flannel and zip-up hoodie out of his closet. It might not be the most fashionable thing, but at least he feels comfortable in it. Why is he suddenly nervous about what he is wearing? He never had this feeling but now...

"You leaving already?"

The boy nods, stuffing his wallet and phone in the pocket of his jeans. He nervously glances in the mirror before spraying some perfume on his neck.

"Yeah, I uh- We are going to get breakfast. Neither of us ate anything since like, yesterday."

"You and Y/N?"

Rowan only nods, fixing his hair before walking up to the door. He says goodbye to Xavier, but doesn't really get a response. The boy is too busy muttering to himself, asking what the hell has happened that made you and Rowan turn into friends.

The boy didn't remember asking you where to meet, so he patiently waited in the Quad. He saw you coming down the stairs already, so he wiped his hands on his pants before walking over. Jesus, Rowan, why are you so nervous? You literally fought with each other yesterday, but the conversations throughout the night changed everything.

"Rowan! Hey," you smile, slightly out of breath from running down the stairs.

You had changed your clothing, switching to something dry and more comfortable. You have a tote bag on your shoulder - you didn't need a lot of things anyway.

"Ready for breakfast?"

-

It didn't stop at breakfast.

Weeks passed when you and Rowan would hang out. It nearly happens every single day now. Be it while sitting together in class, meeting up in one of your dorms, or even going to Jericho.

There have been moments where you really wanted to hit yourself in the head for how dumb you acted in the past. Maybe even you just admitted to Xavier that day. If you had just admitted to him that you had a huge crush on Rowan. What would have happened then? Maybe you would have even been dating- No.

Come on! You can't think that. You spent months bickering and fighting with Rowan. You thought that your crush would have faded by now - and for a bit, it actually did. But hearing that Rowan actually used to like you, sparked a bit of hope in your heart.

You now lay with your stomach down on Rowan his bed, flipping through the book you were reading. He sat at his desk, scribbling away in his notebook which is now filled with most of his homework.

"Hey, Y/N?"

You hum in response, looking up from your book.

"Do you have more paper? I think I ran out."

"Yeah, of course! It's in my bag."

He thanks you with a big smile, pushing his chair to reach your bag. He opens the zipper, taking out your sketchbook. You always had a few spare pieces of paper stuck in it, just in case you needed them. Rowan places the sketchbook on his desk, opening it to take some of the paper out, pausing for a second when he sees what is on the rest of the pages.

On the paper that actually is stuck in the sketchbook is his own face, perfectly drawn. It is almost like he is staring into a mirror. When he glances at you, he sees that your nose is still stuck in the book, so he quietly closes the sketchbook again, a faint smile on his face.

When he is finally done with his homework, he sits down next to you on the bed, reading along with you. Not that he is that focused on the book. He feels very nervous to sit this close to you, but he does not mind being here. You still lay on your stomach as he sits up, his head leaning down to see the text on the pages.

He might have been leaning down for too long as his glasses snip off of his nose, falling on your book. You let out a laugh before taking hold of the item, pushing yourself up to sit opposite Rowan.

"You need to get these fixed," you hum, cleaning the glass before holding it up to the light, making sure that it is actually clean.

"Yeah," Rowan sighs, "I am just too lazy."

You laugh again before softly placing the glasses back on his nose, making sure the legs are tucked behind his ears before softly dropping your hand back in your lap. Your eyes are still focused on him as you breathe in shakily. Rowan blinks a few times, his heart beating faster as the two of you slowly inch closer to each other. Is this it? Is this the moment?

Footsteps outside of the door can be heard before it opens, you and Rowan pulling away from each other as you quickly grab hold of your book again, nervously looking at the door.

"Hey, Y/N, hey, Rowan."

"Hey Xavier," you both respond in unison.

Not long after, you decided to go to your own dorm, telling Rowan that you have homework to do and that you really had to focus. After giving him a quick hug, you left for your own dorm. You had to get your head straight.

-

It returned back to normal after that awkward encounter. You still sat together during classes, still spent time with him in his dorm, and you still felt hopelessly in love with him. Something about that moment just... changed things. For the better? Hopefully. You wished to actually do whatever your heart was set on.

Today was the day when Yoko planned another cocktail party. You don't really drink, but there wouldn't really be any alcohol anyway. You were sure that you would be able to get some of Ajax his stuff. Even though you aren't in the Nightshades, you are befriended by everyone in the group, so you are still invited to their private parties.

You were in charge of snacks, and oh, did you live up to the expectations. You arrived with bags full of chips, chocolate, muffins, and even a cake. The grocery store in Jericho must be entirely sold out by now. The only people already in the library are Ajax, Yoko, and Bianca. The Siren is already holding a glass filled with liquid and Ajax has a lit joint in his mouth. When he sees you approach the group he grins, holding out the lit joint for you while snatching a bag of chips out of your backpack.

After all the food is placed on the table, you hear more footsteps come down the stairs. Rowan and Xavier are talking, saying hello to the group before sitting down on the makeshift couch. You hand the joint back to Ajax, thanking him before carefully making your way to the chair you sat in before. Your mind feels a bit hazy in the most comfortable way possible. It is like you have a thick blanket draped over your shoulders.

-

The party was a big success.

Almost all of the food got eaten, a ton of drinks got consumed, and Ajax even let you roll some more joints from which some of them also got smoked. The only ones completely sober are Rowan and Enid, both sipping a mocktail instead. During the night, you switched seats with Xavier. He now sat in the chair as you sat on the couch, right next to Rowan. You slowly slouch down the couch more and more, your eyes droopy and tinted red.

You listen to the story he is telling, his hands moving while he talks. Though you can barely focus on most of the words he says, the feeling of him speaking still makes you feel... something. You look up at him from your position as you nearly lay with your head in his lap. His eyelashes are long, making his eyes look even more magical than they normally do. The way his lips move as he talks is almost as mesmerizing as the way his eyes sparkle while talking.

He doesn't even seem to care that your head is in his lap as his hand makes its way to your hair without him even thinking about it. He still sips his drink while talking with Xavier and Kent, though now also stroking your hair and twirling a strand of it around his finger.

"I think it's time to go," Rowan looks down at you, a smile on his face. "Before you actually fall asleep."

Huh? You fell asleep?

You slowly sit up, licking your lips. Your mouth feels disgustingly dry.

"Yeah, us too."

You barely register the people around you moving as you look at only Rowan. He reaches behind him, holding out a bottle of water to you. You take it, whispering a thank you before taking a big gulp.

"I'm going to drop Y/N off at her dorm."

"Alright," Xavier nods, raising his eyebrow as he grins. "Night Rowan, night Y/N!"

"G'night Xavier," you yawn, clinging onto Rowan his arm as he guides you upstairs.

He smells so nice. The smell used to disgust you. Wood, flowers, citrus. Even a hint of fruit. You want everything to smell like it now. Your clothing, your bed, your shampoo - you just want him.

"Come on, sleepyhead," you hear Rowan chuckle. "Almost at your dorm. Before Thornhill sees you, huh?"

"I'm not a sleepyhead," you respond, a yawn cutting you off.

"Sure," Rowan nods. "And you aren't high either, are you?"

You turn your head to face him, stopping in your tracks. But, your movements are way slower than they should be. Rowan just watches you with an amused expression, his hand on the small of your back to hold you steady as you still think about something to say.

Nothing comes out, so you just giggle before walking again. He makes you feel so giddy and excited. There is no way to explain it. Maybe it is because you're high. No, you also feel like this when you aren't.

"Here we go," Rowan opens your door, guiding you inside before making you sit on the bed. "Shoes?"

You slowly undo your laces, your eyes unfocusing every few seconds. In the meanwhile, Rowan has already taken a pair of pajamas out of your closet, placing them next to you before heading into the bathroom. There is toothpaste on your toothbrush and make-up remover in his hands.

"Go brush your teeth," he says, making you groan. "Come on, you're going to regret it in the morning."

He knows you too well. You quickly brush your teeth, changing in the bathroom before stepping out. He hands you a wipe as you wipe off your make-up, slipping underneath your covers.

"Good night, Y/N," Rowan smiles, a glass of water on your bedside table as you shake your head.

"I have to tell you something."

"Hm?"

Rowan looks at you with an amused look, sitting at the edge of your bed. Your eyes are tinted red, and he knew that you were high. He finds it very funny, actually.

You would always come up with the weirdest things, and considering he did not smoke, he just learned how to go with it.

"You are so pretty," the whisper leaves your lips.

His heart stops beating for a second. Sure, he has hugged you, even held your hand, and you have fallen asleep on him more times than he can count. The two of you almost kissed before but never talked about it ever again.

"I'm serious," you yawn. "If you were my boyfriend - God. So gorgeous. Really."

A blush raises to his cheeks as he breathes in deeply, brushing your hair out of your face one last time before smiling, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

"You are gorgeous too," he smiles at you fondly before switching your night lamp off. "Goodnight."

"No kiss?"

Rowan laughs before shaking his head.

"Tomorrow. When you're sober."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

When the door behind him closes, he breathes in shakily. Where did all the sudden courage come from? Normally, he wouldn't really say something like that out loud. He wants to kiss you, that is for sure, but to promise one tomorrow? God, he wishes you would forget. But, being high is not the same as being drunk... Right?

-

It is early in the morning as Rowan finishes tying his tie. Xavier left even earlier than him, wanting some time in the art shed before heading to class. The boy runs his hand through his hair one last time, checking his appearance in the mirror once more before a knock is heard on the door. Is Xavier back?

When he opens it, he sees you, smiling brightly while holding onto your backpack.

"Good morning," he smiles. "Come in."

You skip in, your bag now on the ground as you sit down on his neatly made bed. The two of you have the usual talk - how are you feeling today, any plans, did you make all your homework? Then, it is time to head out. But, before Rowan places his hand on the door handle, you stop him.

"Hey, Rowan?"

"Yeah?"

He turns around, seeing you much closer to him than he expected. You look up at him with a smile on your face and one eyebrow raised.

"Little birdie told me that someone promised me something yesterday," you huff, though the smile never leaving. "A kiss, perhaps?"

Shit. You remember. Rowan opens his mouth nervously, blinking before closing it again.

"Only... Only if you want," he looks at you almost nervously.

You softly place your hands on his cheeks, looking up at him.

"From you? Always."