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lethalchiralium · 1 year

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I NEED A GHOST FANFIC WHERE WE FALL IN LOVE WITH GHOST AND WINNIE AND IT SHOWS THEIR RELATIONSHIP ABD MORE!!! OMG I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH 🫶🫶🫶🫶

Dear Winter | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: my first 2023 post! happy new year!!! thank you for requesting and being patient - this took a while lol. it might not be what you want but i literally could not NOT write this. it would be illegal.

song reference: Dear Winter by AJR

summary: Simon had to find a toy for Winnie, but discovers what finally pushes him over the edge to confess his love for you.

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Simon didn’t feel like he should’ve been searching in his attic for a mindless little toy that Winnie wanted. He had packed it away when he recognized that she didn’t like it anymore, but now it’s all she’ll talk about. The goddamn elephant that he bought at the hospital when she was born - it was before he was able to see her. It sang “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” and he put in a voice recording of himself saying, “I love you, Winnie.”

All Winnie ever wanted was the bear that Price had gotten her, the little green bear that did nothing but stare lifelessly. Now it was “I want Ellie, Daddy. I want Ellie!” all day and night, and his poor nanny was doing her best to keep Winnie entertained - which wasn’t enough, apparently.

He opened another plastic tub, placing the lid on the box beside it. It was full of Winnie’s baby clothes, ranging from frilly dresses to onesies. He dug through it, but still not seeing the pink elephant. He huffed in frustration, slamming the lid back on the tub and pulled it away, revealing another tub just like it.

This one was full of photos, which were of Winnie, him, and you specifically. Special milestones like when it was Winnie’s first steps, his eyes wide as he watched Winnie take her first steps. Or the picture in front of your family’s Christmas tree, the year he needed your help to figure out Christmas. Winnie sat on his shoulders and your arm around his back, his girls’ smiles large as his eyes were only visible from his cloth balaclava.

His girls.

His thumb swiped at your bubbly smile on the picture, a smile of his own now on his face.

He had fallen for you that Christmas. Spending more time with you than Winnie, since your three brothers kept the little one occupied for most of the trip. He had found you fascinating, you never pushed an answer from him, choosing to let him understand you first. He had very reluctantly allowed you to hug him, rest your head on his shoulder, and tried his best not to flinch when you grabbed his hand. That was two years ago - he was so far down the rabbit hole that he had convinced himself that you were just being friendly. He figured out later that you had a crush on him.

Simon sighed, beginning to move the large cluster of pictures out of the box and onto the floor when a folded piece of paper tumbled across the floor. He grunted in annoyance, dropping the pictures onto the spot next to him before stretching and reaching out for the paper, grasping it in his fingers. He was ready to toss it into the box when he looked back into it, only seeing old notebooks of his from when he was a kid. He thumbed the piece of paper, seeing a date that he remembered well.

If he was a little bit less tired of his daughter’s constant pleading for a toy he was very sure was in her room, he might have thrown the folded paper in the box again, shoving all of the picture on top of it. If he was a little more awake, he would’ve buried the paper at the bottom of the box - but it was something he had thought about for a few weeks.

It was an old assignment he had done in school as a teenager, on his 16th birthday when he used the last of his happiness and sanity to do the one assignment he really wanted to. Write a letter to someone in the future.

He tucked the piece of paper and the Christmas photo in his pocket, shoving the photos back in the box - he decided Winnie could wait another day for that stupid elephant. He slid the lid back on the tub and made his way back to the attic entrance. He quickly climbed down, pushing the ladder back up with one arm. It clicked into place and he turned away, making his way downstairs. He heard the thunderous footsteps of his daughter before she ran in front of him, her blanket tied around her shoulders as she held up her green bear. He watched her go by as she made the noise of an airplane, disappearing into the living room.

He looked back to where she came from, seeing a glimpse of you moving out of the playroom and into the front room. Simon then followed his daughter, walking into the living room as she then noisily made her way into the kitchen. He didn’t mind, he always hated noise but hearing his daughter have fun was an exception. Every noise his daughter made assured him that she was still alive, his worst fear was losing Winnie. He swiftly sat down on the couch, pulling out the folded piece of paper.

His fingers moved the flimsy paper to open, and it was like he was transported back in time.

Dear Winter,

I hope you like your name. I hope they don't make fun of you when you grow up and go to school, okay? 'Cause Winter is a badass name.

I hope you talk to girls or boys or anyone you like, I just hope you don't stay in every night. 'Cause I wish I was out tonight.

I hope you like your name. I'm hoping that someday, I can meet you on this earth.

I hope you like this letter. Even when you're thirteen and you scream at me for parenting you wrong.

I still hope you like your name. You know I cannot wait to teach you how to curse.

But Winter, please don’t move too far away. And please don't say I'm hovering when I call you to ask about your day.

I wanna hear about your day.

Will we still hang out and talk when I'm no longer in charge?

Winter, I hope you like your name. I hope you let me take a shot with you on your 21st.

He remembered writing this at a small park near his childhood home, turning it in the same day and hoping his teacher wouldn’t talk to him about it. He remembered forcing this piece of paper at the bottom of his bag when he got it back so his father wouldn’t see it, so his brother wouldn’t either and mock him. He had walked into his house, rushing through the hallway to the kitchen where his mother was humming.

“Mum,” He had said, she looked up from the food she was mixing in a bowl and smiled at him. He remembered how vibrant her dark blonde hair was, how his eyes matched hers - how her smile could instantly change his mood. He was a mama’s boy. “I got an A on my assignment.”

She set down her whisk and batted the flour off of her hands onto her apron, moved around the counter as he dug into his bag and handed her the folded paper.

Simon Riley would never forget how his mother had kneeled in front of him, held his hands and whispered, “I can’t wait to meet Winnie, I can’t wait for you to find someone who loves you even more than I do, Simon. You’ll be a good husband, a good father one day. You’ll always be better than him.” She had settled her hands on his face, wiping his tears as she said, “You’ll find her.”

He had planned to call his first daughter Winter, her name staying the same for a nickname. But, he now called his daughter, ‘Winnie’, so that it was like his mother was in his daughter’s life.

Dear Winter, I'm looking for your mom.

I gotta find a girl that doesn't mind that I'm inside my head a lot.

Winter, it won't be too long.

First, I just gotta find your mom.

“Simon.”

He looked up and locked eyes with you, seeing your wide smile as your hands settled on your hips.

“Did you find it?”

He didn’t register your words, he just gazed at you. He folded the letter that he had wrote when he was sixteen, the only thing he would’ve ever had hope for was love. That all his teenage self wanted, a family to love and be loved by.

Did you find it? You said.

He wanted to hand you that letter. He wanted you to read the most vulnerable thing he’s ever created - he knew he shouldn’t. But fuck, he wanted to. He shoved the letter into his pocket, and calmly spoke, “No.”

Your face fell, looking deep in thought before you said, “You checked everything up there? I could’ve sworn I went through her whole room…” You began to mumble to yourself as Simon held out his right hand towards you. You immediately stopped talking, gaze looking to his hand then to his masked face. “What?”

He turned his palm towards the ceiling, as if he was asking for your hand. You looked back down at his hand before placing yours on his large palm. He gently curled his fingers around your soft skin and pulled you towards him. You sort of stumbled forwards, your knees now hit the front of the couch and his thighs ghosted the side of yours. His other hand came to gently hold your empty one that was settled by your side.

He could feel your heartbeat quicken as his finger pressed into your wrist. His own heart was beating so fast that he thought he wouldn’t be able to go through with this.

Did you find it?

The picture of you three? Yes, and it made him pull the letter out again. He bit the inside of his cheek before placing it in your palm.

“What is this?” You curiously asked, he gestured for you to open it. He let go of you then, allowing you to read the letter.

His heart was in overdrive as he watched you read it, eyebrows sort of furrowed.

“You asked me if I found it. I didn’t find what Winter wanted, but what I wanted. Want.”

You read the last line and looked up at Ghost, gasping as you now saw his maskless face. His brown eyes watched yours trace his face, commit it to memory. And your right hand reached out, ghosting the skin of his cheek before his own hand pressed it down, his face leaned into your touch. You memorized every white scar, the way his lips curved, his jaw - he was beautiful.

“Tell me if I’m wrong.”

His hand pulled yours from his face, allowing his other hand to place a folded photo on your palm. You took it and opened it, staring at it.

It was the one Christmas that Simon and Winnie had spent with your family. You were looking up at Winnie as the little two year old sat on Simon’s shoulders. She was reaching for you, and then you looked at him in the picture. Even with the balaclava on and his face turned, you could clearly see that he was gazing at you.

Your gaze looked up to Simon again, still amazed at how beautiful he was. You knew him for almost four years, and this was the first time you have ever seen his face. Your heart skipped a few beats as his hand grazed your hip.

Your hand rested on his shoulder, he spoke again. “You. You are what I want.” His other hand settled on your waist, sort of coaxing you closer to him. He took a deep breath and leaned forward, resting his forehead against your stomach. Your hand moved from his shoulders to his dirty blond hair, you gazed down at it as he continued. “I didn’t always want to be a dad, I didn’t want to be after what happened to my family. But when Grace told me that she was pregnant, I ran. I ran away like a fuckin’ coward.” His arm moved from your hip up to hold the small of your back. “I…cared for her, I did. And when she died, I was surprised that I didn’t feel anything about it. Because I had to put all of my focus and strength in my daughter, the same thing you do while I’m gone.” He looked up at you now, his eyes meeting yours. “I care for you. And I can’t go a day without thinking of you.”

“Simon…”

“Please, tell me.” His hands pushed into your skin just a little more. “Tell me if I’m wrong and I will leave you be.”

You stared at him. You would have never expected any sort of confession from him, ever. He was the type to bottle everything up until he rots in a casket - not the type to say what he felt. And to be honest, your heart and stomach both fell from your body. You had pushed that ‘harmless’ crush all the way down into your soul, and here he comes- ripping layers of protection out of your heart and soul.

Your eyes darted to his lips then back up to his beautiful eyes, your thumb gently threaded across the short hair on the back of his head.

“Love me, Simon Riley.”

Oh Winter, I have already found your mom.

———

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