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#dad ghost
mactavishsgfandwife · 3 months
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Dad!Simon Helps Your Daughter When She Falls Over :((
inspired by this ADORABLE instagram reel 💞💞💞
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Your 3 year-old lets out a little gasp as she slips over on the ice and after a moment of shock, she starts to cry out. No words, just a stream of tears and wails of pain, frozen on her hands and knees, bare palms against freezing, snowy ground.
"Daddy!" she cries out, by which time her father is already knelt down at her side, "Dada!"
"Hey, baby," his usually gruff voice sounds soft and low as he gently strokes his daughter’s hair away from her tear-stained cheek, trying not to show how much it affects him to see her with big, sad eyes and so clearly in pain.
“Tell Daddy where you’re hurt.”
"M- m- my knees!" your little girl sobs, leaning into her father’s chest as he picks her up and cradles her in his arms, just as he did when she was younger.
Her bottom lip trembles, and she whimpers softly into Simon’s shirt, sniffling and covering him in tears. Her little hands are sore from the fall, and your husband takes both of them in one of his much bigger, stronger, rougher hands, his thumb gently caressing her knuckles.
"Let me see…" he gently rolls her trouser legs up to see her knees, which aren’t bloody but just a little sore and grazed from her fall. Taking care not to hurt her fragile skin, he leans closer and gently kisses her chubby toddler legs better. It looks funny, this big, scary man being so gentle and loving with a little girl in her pink raincoat, but he doesn’t care. Anything for his daughter.
"Need plaster, daddy!"
"You don’t need one, love, you’re not blee-" he looks down only to be met with her big, teary eyes and sad little pout, her tiny heart so sad not to be getting a plaster.
"Alright, y’get a plaster," he chuckles softly, giving her a tender kiss on the forehead, "you’re such a brave girl."
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thanks for reading :P
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sgrplumditz · 2 months
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You had his baby and he didn't know (Pt. 2)
A/N: Thank you for all the positive feedback! I am so beyond grateful that you guys enjoyed the 1st part. I never fathomed to get this much attention from my first post, which means I didn’t really intend on making a part 2. But with such gratitude and motivation… here it is!
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She had told him everything, and through it all he did nothing but soothe her, keeping her small hands in his as her soft voice filled their ears. It wasn't until now that she had realized how absurd it was to feel nervous to tell him the story of her unaccompanied pregnancy, and her introduction to motherhood.
Like herself, he also held no resentment, or distaste toward the secrecy behind the conception and birth of their beautiful baby girl. Simon's only intention was to understand her and her decision to keep their child a secret from him, but in the midst of her reminiscent disclosure he couldn't help but feel alienated, guilty and a rollercoaster of many other emotions revolving her and his daughter.
His usually hard, and stoic gaze had softened for her -- which wasn't an unusual occurrence for him when it came to her, the mother of his child. "Hey, you're alright" he soothed when he noticed a stray tear race down her soft cheek. His thumb instinctively coming up to stop the salty drop of emotion in its track, and likewise she instinctively leaned into the feeling of his large hand that cupped the side of her face.
The moment was tender, intimate, comforting -- it was everything that she craved from him from the moment she found out she was carrying their child. Their baby girl seemed to be emotionally connected to her mother. The sound of her fuss and whimpering coming from the playpen where she had been placed to rest. Both her and Simon's attention was drawn to the infant the moment her restful cooing was replaced with the sounds of discomfort. Her mother knew that she was most likely hungry, but her father, Simon seemed to only be alarmed by the sudden crying. It was evident that his protective nature had taken over -- a quality of his that could not be tamed or ever be put to rest.
"She's just hungry, Si" she spoke, breaking the silence between the two. The melancholy aura of the room immediately being lifted as she chuckled softly at his high alert behavior as it only reminded her of the first few nights that she was home from the hospital with her daughter.
As she normally would she gently picked up their daughter, making sure to keep a firm hand on the back of her neck to support it. Her maternal nature was in full effect as she spoke sweet and soft words to the baby girl. Her cries being soothed, and her simple mind now distracted at the sight and sound of her mother. Simon watched this all divulge in front of him. He didn't know whether his heart ached because he had missed hundreds of moments like these or if he felt such sorrow because he didn't share the same bond with the tiny being that he helped create.
He let his the thoughts and endless "'what if" possibilities consume his mind while she prepared a bottle with the infant still resting in her arm. She was small, measuring out the length of her mother's forearm. Normally she would make the bottle with ease, but as time went by and the baby girl grew, the process slowed down. She was careful and calculated making sure that the baby was always safe in her arms.
"I can take her if you're alright with it" spoke Simon in a mildly nervous tone. “It’d make it easier for you to prepare her bottle, yeah?” he spoke again, using the feeding time as an excuse to finally hold their daughter. But he was nervous? Simon doesn’t get nervous. He has always been incredibly calm and collected to the point of mastering stoicism. He wasn’t nervous to hold the infant — that was the less of his worries.
There were so many special events that he had missed while he was away. Core memories that he doesn’t have with her or her mother. He missed the pregnancy, the first kicks, the birth, the first powerful cries from her little lungs, the first feed from her mother’s full and lactating breasts, the first skin-to-skin contact —which he read was essential for bonding in newborns, the dad walk out of the hospital after being discharged as a family — the one where he knew his overprotective nature would automatically take over.
So many factors playing into the aggregation of his nerves, but there was a single one that was keeping him on edge the most. Simon was nervous that he wouldn’t be able to bond with the small and fragile being that shared half of his DNA. Being absent for so many critical events made him doubtful in his ability to be and feel like a genuine father. All of his nerves dwindling down and relying on this very moment.
But none of it mattered. The pessimistic thoughts that lingered in his brain practically disintegrating. As if the warmth of his daughter’s small body destroyed every doubtful fiber in his own. She was no longer just his biological daughter, but a part of him. His soul was tied to hers, his emotions was connected to hers, his breath was for her. His entire being was engulfed by her.
The baby adjusted herself in his broad, tattooed and muscular arm by leaning her small face into his chest, as if she sensed some sort of familiarity in him. Like mother like daughter.
She watched their entire interaction curiously. She saw his hardened exterior breakdown at the moment their daughter’s infant body fit into his arm like a puzzle piece. It was obvious. Just like she felt her daughter was made for her, she was just as equally made for him. The instant connection between the father and daughter was electric. This was everything she had wanted and more.
She always knew Simon would be a great father — he was a great guy after all — he was attentive, protective, polite, masculine, and so much more, but she never fathomed that it would have been as magnifying as she felt it to be.
Simon’s gaze turned to her and she swore she saw his eyes glistening, tears threatening to spill. No words were exchanged between the two, but she knew exactly what he was feeling and thinking. As their daughter’s mother, she felt those exact emotions as well.
She was then engulfed by his scent. His arms embracing the two most important girls in his life, but it was not just a typical embrace of joy — it was firm, passionate and filled with urgency. He needed them.
With their daughter still resting in his arm, he used his free hand to remove a stray strand of hair from her face before he firmly cupped it. A soft kiss landing on her forehead.
He pressed his forehead to hers and exhaled softly before breaking the silence, “I am so proud of you” he said — his english accent thick and correlating respectively with how emotional he was.
“I am so proud of you” he repeated again, “but you are never doing anything like this alone. We do it together. As a family”.
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nsharks · 1 year
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can we see more of dad ghost ♥︎ im obsessedLMAO
“soft around the edges”
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aka when ghost’s son runs up to him in front of the team (a little part 2 to this fic. part 3 here.)
Soap doesn't share the Lieutenant's secret with the rest of the force.
Things go back to normal after that brief, bizarre encounter with you. When their break is over, Ghost carries on the typical dry humor and sharp orders, pretending that Soap never had dinner at his cozy home and met his pregnant wife.
Though, MacTavish does notice little differences in his stoic superior turned new dad. Ghost is shockingly, and ever-so-slightly, nicer. His language is still foul. But he's a little less rough around the edges: compliments Soap a bit more, tells him to shut the fuck up a little bit less.
It's not something that any of the others notice, of course, which is why they are all so baffled when they finally do figure out about Ghost's secret family.
It's two years later when they are disbanding at a base in the UK that you accidentally reveal yourself.
It's truly an accident.
Whenever you pick him up from the military base, Simon instructs you to wait outside. Says he doesn't want to put you at any risk. But you have a knack for not listening to him. You missed him so much during the past four months, and the two-year-old in your arms was old enough to start asking where his dad was, so you figured you could wait for him inside this time, hidden away in a corner.
Your plan might have worked if it weren't for the swell of your belly making it difficult for you to hold the squirming toddler.
He recognizes his dad even with the skull mask on.
Immediately starts to yelp for him, kicking his little feet around, and giving you no choice but to set the toddler down for a second. But your son is growing so much, and he's got his father's determination.
It's definitely riveting for Soap and the team to witness the whole thing unfold.
At first sight, the waddling two-year-old boy doesn't faze them. There were usually family members and little ones waiting at the gate. Gaz and Price are saying their goodbyes when they both notice that the toddler running around is coming in their direction. Or more specifically, in Ghost's direction.
Soap knows right away what's happening.
Watches with raised brows.
For the rest of the team, this is the first time they witness Ghost's demeanor shift to something so soft and peculiar. His mannerisms give everything away before the kid even reaches him: a typically-unfazed Ghost looks around frantically, probably wondering how the hell his son even got here, until he spots you waddling sheepishly after him.
Oh, fuckin' hell.
You give your husband an apologetic look that says I'm sorry and help me at the same time.
“Can’t believe what I’m seeing," Gaz mutters, watching as Ghost bends down to pick up the small child.
Tell me 'bout it, Soap wants to say. But he's already gone through the initial disbelief two years ago, so now, he simply watches with knowing eyes.
He can't say he didn't spend some time the past two years wondering what kind of parents you and Ghost had become. He knew bits and pieces of his past and hesitantly wondered if Ghost had carried on that behavior.
But now he witnesses the Lieutenant scoop the toddler in his arms, making him look so small against his broad chest. “I’ve got ya, kid.” And he is tucking the boy's head underneath his chin and pressing his masked nose to the top of his hair.
Then, the toddler reaches a small hand to his mask and pats it, perhaps harder than he realizes, but Ghost simply shakes his head and patiently wraps his much larger hand around the curious little one’s.
Ghost is soft and gentle and anything but angry, even though you worried that he might have been.
Everything seems to sink in for the team when they see you finally reach your husband. Your mouth moving to rush out apologies:
"I'm sorry, Simon, I know you said to wait outside. We just really wanted to see you and I tried to hold him and-"
And Ghost might have been frustrated on another day. But on this day, he’s just relieved to see you again. It's apparent to all of the eyes watching that this brooding man, with his deadpan eyes and a trademark mask, is utterly and unabashedly in love with you and the little family you have gifted him. Finally able to fully relax as he wraps an arm around your waist and nuzzles your neck, something you could never imagine him doing in public like this a few years ago.
“S’okay, love,” he tells you. “Can’t be mad, can I? Not when I get to see you two.”
You’re carrying his second child and he hasn't seen you in months and he simply doesn't give a fuck at the moment.
To his team watching, the Lieutenant seems like another person.
They're watching Simon, not Ghost.
"That's his girl, then?" Alejandro finally asks, as they have been frozen in place. Watching in curiosity and bewilderment.
“Wife seems like,” Gaz says. Shooting Soap a curious look, he adds, “Did you know anything about this?”
“Hell,” Soap shrugs to feign innocence. “Didn’t know a thing-“
But, of course, you’re soon waving over at him and smiling before your husband can stop you. “Hi, Johnny!”
Guilty and caught, Soap offers a small wave in return before shaking his head. “Christ, alright. May have ran into them awhile back.”
“And you didn’t tell us, MacTavish?” Gaz scoffs.
“Not my secret to tell,” Soap shrugs again and watches as Ghost caresses your pregnant stomach. He leans down to whisper something in your ear and you smile coyly at him, planting a little kiss to the cheek of his hard mask. Ghost is somehow able to hold you and your son firmly against his chest and still have more room. Must be what had the two of you realizing that a fourth family member was needed.
Soap hears the snide remarks as your family leaves and is out of earshot.
Looks like Ghost keeps himself busy on leave.
You think he helps with the diapers?
The kid’s even got his eyes.
Reckon he takes the mask off during sex?
Finally, Soap groans out, “Haud yer wheesht. That’s enough.”
“Sergeant’s right,” Price, whose own surprise has faded into something more stern, quiets the members of the team who are still lingering. “That’s your superior you’re gosspin’ about. Show some respect and bugger off.”
But once the Captain is gone, Soap allows himself this one quip (because, he’d been so good at not sharing what he’d seen for two years).
It’s a quiet one that he mentions only to Kyle.
“He takes her shopping an’ carries all the bags. Saw it myself.”
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obsessivelullabies · 3 months
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being simon riley’s housewife: pregnancy!
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part one.
— when you first told simon you were pregnant, he had to sit down. he was feeling so many emotions; joy, anxiety, infatuation. mainly, he was overjoyed he’d gotten the love of his life pregnant. to him, it was almost like the final way to solidify your bond.
— he soon wrapped you up in his arms and gently kissed your forehead, immediately his hand wandered down to your belly, despite it being flat at the time. this became a habit.
— the first few weeks, he started becoming overly protective and worrisome. “.. you sure you can eat that with the baby?”, “what if somethin’ happened to ‘em in there?” and most commonly, “you feelin’ ok, lovie?”.
— he is at your beck and call. you’re up early throwing up? he’s up holding your hair and rubbing your back. you want takeout? course, what do you want? you want a foot rub? ok. anything for you.
— simon’s whole day revolves around you and pampering you. he’s always looming in the background. you’ll probably have to beg him to leave the house alone.
— as you progress into your pregnancy, his worrying only gets worse. he worries about being a good father. he doesn’t feel ready. yet, when he looks at you, he feels everything will be okay.
— when he’s not deployed he’s at every doctor’s appointment. he keeps a sonogram of the baby in his wallet, alongside a photo of you.
— even during sex, he’s much more gentle than usual. as if he’s terrified he’ll harm you or the baby. this is something you have to gently reassure him about.
— simon absolutely adores it when your belly gets all swollen. he loves go rub his hands on it and kiss it. he constantly tries to feel for kicks or any movement.
— when it comes to baby names, he isn’t picky at all. he’s fine with almost anything. after all, you’re the one carrying it, so he’s indifferent.
— as you go through labor, he’s nervously holding your hand and trying his best to silently be supportive no matter if you curse him, the nurses or the doctor. whatever you need, he understands.
— the moment simon got to hold his healthy, sweet baby, he felt like he fell in love all over again. he glanced between you and the baby. his heart swelled. he knew he had a family with you, something he’d lost years ago.
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bonus : simon would be ecstatic if you allowed him to name your baby girl after his late mother. he’d smile to himself, the terrible memory of his mother’s passing becoming a sweet name of remembrance. [if this makes no sense, read his backstory!]
masterlist. | requests are open!
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sleepyeepyp3rson · 24 days
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boydad!simon riley
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an: this is HEAVILY inspired by @whateveriwant and their girl dad simon headcanons, if you find this alright, you should totally go read theirs!!!
ship: ghost x reader
Simon Riley who teaches your son "real football" but lets your kid win every time, regardless if he played by the rules or not.
Simon Riley who rough houses with your son, and is totally fine with being used as a jungle gym.
Simon Riley who makes time to go to everything your son does, from parent night to performances or sports games. But feels terrible when he can't make it.
Simon Riley who would never tell your son not to wear makeup or pursue theater. The same goes for anything else that's traditionally not "for guys." He couldn't care less as long as he's not hurting anyone.
Simon Riley who tells the worst dad jokes on purpose just to annoy you and your son, and if he joins his dad in the jokes, Simon's ecstatic.
Simon Riley who texts your son everyday once he moves out, and sends him those awful minon memes to annoy him.
Simon Riley who doesn't care who his son loves, his son better be treating them like royalty. Simon would also treat them like family immediately but would give them the "don't hurt my little boy" talk.
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yandere-kokeshi · 8 months
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— Who hurt you?
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— yandere dad-ghost x gn teenager reader
Summary || You come home bloodied and bruised from school. While getting patched up by your dad, you reveal things
A/N || This is one of my favorite fics atm. Idk why but seeing soft dad ghost?? Yeah. That's how to do, my heart is. Anyway, enjoy 😉
Warnings || details of being hurt/bullied, blood, hints that ghost kills, and comfort.
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Copper and sharpie. That’s all you can smell. The stench has embossed itself on your clothes, your flesh, and inside your nostrils. It was embarrassing really, coming home after being chased by bullies. 
They slapped you to the ground. Laughed in your face as the girls kept you from getting up, sitting directly on your chest. They pulled out permanent markers and drew foul things on your face, arms, and legs. 
Knead your stomach and kicked you. All you wanted was to hang out with them.
Silence settles between the bathroom, hearing your dad — Simon Riley, Ghost or a big Kodiak bear you like to call him, go through his bedroom, the sounds of his drawers opening and closing as he huffs loudly.
You heard the cruel rumors of your reputation. It was a gnawing sort of feeling of betrayal. One that ate away at your very soul and left nothing but pain in its wake. The action alone may not be the worst thing in the entire world. But what made betrayal ache was that in the past, in its place, was trust.
The rumors of you spread like a disease; whispers in the school of ‘slut’ and ‘freak’. Everyone looked at you like something else. Even teachers scoffed at you. You thought you could handle it, until today. It’s expected for your favorite shirt to be stained — again. 
You didn’t want to hear your dads voice. Him being incredibly disappointed in you. 
You leaned your head on the back of the toilet, chewing the inside of your cheek as you waited for him to come in. It was long, just like the torture you’d endured hours before. 
“What happened?” 
You stayed quiet, continuing to look up at the white ceiling before turning your head to the side, looking at him in the doorway with half-lidded eyes. He’s leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed against his chest; almost like he’s disappointed. But his voice says otherwise. 
“Kiddo, what happened?” he re-asks, his boots creaking with the shift in weight distribution, floorboards straining as he walks across the space toward you. 
You stayed quiet, making him stare at you before sighing. 
He opened the bottom of the sink, grabbed the med kit and seized the necessary items before turning on the faucet, grabbing another dark rag due to the one you’re holding already used; stained with markers, blood, and some snot.  
Your dad clicked his tongue, “What the hell happened?”
“M’ don’t wanna talk about it,” 
“You worried me,” your dad voiced, using your name. You considered his words carefully, staring at your lap, legs, and arms littered with all kinds of marks. 
“You also worry too much,” you pointed out, watching him kneel before you. 
He steals your words from your mouth when his huge hand settles around the bloodied rag in your palm. He doesn’t speak; at first, silence hangs between you, once again as throws it away; grabbing the cloth into the sink. Then, he soaks it until it’s dripping, droplets pinging off the surface, and wrings it out. His dorsal muscles ripple beneath the backs of his palm, veins a ballpoint color and standing out against his pale skin.
“You didn’t answer your phone,” he directs, carefully holding the damp fabric and slowly reaching for your face. “I thought something happened. Which did.”
You stayed quiet for a second. “… I didn’t mean to scare you,” you whisper. 
You can see his brown eyes narrow, his mind occupied by something. Clearly, he’s angry. And who wouldn’t? Finding your kid barely able to stand up, laying against the wall for help covered in bruises and blood, was a frightening sight. Especially with his type of job, anything is possible. 
The pressure of the cloth against your face is so delicate, almost like he’s appearing afraid to hurt you — gently brushing away the flecks of blood in your hairline as well as the drawings. He shakes his head gently, considering your words. “Not your fault, kiddo.”
He then grabbed your arm, rotating your wrist as he examined the bruises and forming – you watched his face fill with fury.
“Who did this to you?” he seethed, voice deep and low, a tone you’d heard not so much before. 
You shook your head, clearly not in the mood to talk about it. But it didn’t satisfy him, he called your name, demanding you to look at him. Tears were already falling before more words curled out of his mouth.
At long last, finally with the adrenaline and frightened state going away, you let your guard down, letting tears pour down your eyes. It stung, face hurting more than you’d like. But you didn’t care. You needed to cry.
Your hands went up to wipe away the tears, but before you can hit your sore cheeks, he’s capturing you in his arms and pulling you to his chest. He doesn’t say anything, letting your head rest on his shoulder. All you required at this moment was to be held, to know you were loved. And that he wasn’t mad — never at you. 
He rubbed your back, kissing the side of your head as you cried out more — sobbing turned into occasional hiccups and gasps, then sniffles and permanent hiccups that he would occasionally let out a chuckle on. 
“Ready to talk about it, kid?” He asks cautiously, prodding but patient. You only sigh softly before looking up at him, quickly noticing the snot and tears stained into his gray hoodie. 
“It’s just…” you pause, trying to find the right words to say. “Things have been rough, lately. School has been hard. Everything seems to be going wrong. Especially with the other kids.”
His eyes squint as he listens to you speak, the hazel color meeting your own, leaving you choking in your words. He’s your dad. You shouldn’t be afraid of telling him. But what if—?
“—And I know that being a teenager is hard. But, I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to see them.” you trail off, a shuddering breath escaping your lips as you feel your eyes swell up once more.
His thumb catches them before they fall, however, and you smile at him for a moment before continuing.
“I’m scared to go back,” you whisper brokenly. 
For a moment, the bathroom is silent, but all at once your dad’s arms are tightly around you in a hug. All-encompassing, it only makes you cry once more. Your head slumps over, forehead pressing into his shoulder – his hand pressing against the back of your neck.
“How long has it been happening?” 
You shrug your shoulders, digging yourself deeper into his shoulder. “Long enough, I guess…”
“Kiddo…” he starts, sighing out of defeat. “Shit- I’m sorry for not noticing. Le’s keep you home, mkay’?” 
“Okay,” you whisper, but that’s good enough for him. His hands started rubbing your back, before reaching over for the rag on the counter — continuing to clean up the stained marks and your irritated cheeks.
“Do you need me to do anything?” he says, his tone hardened. From the looks of it, he had a plan. But, you knew or not. His face was unreadable at times. 
You shook your head, before hissing out at the soaped cloth on your cheek. He gently moved your hair out of the way, just enough to expose the wound near your eye. 
“Sorry. Need to make sure it won’t get infected.” 
Before you know it, he was done. Already putting the first aid kit back under the sink and throwing the used cloth into the wash. “Tell ya’ what,” he says, making you raise your eyebrows. Though, he pulled his cracked-screen phone from his pocket, the exact one he’s had for years and the one you’ve begged to get a new one. 
He offers it to you, already on the phone on. More often or not, he didn’t let you snoop through it. Licensed files detailed in the phone. Plus, the last time you played a prank on him with it, he grounded you — for two weeks. 
“W-hat do you want me to… do?” you stammered questioningly, hesitantly grabbing it before looking at the screen. Then back at him.
“Order pizza. Get whatever you want.”
Your eyes widened, a smile widening to which he chuckled at. “There you are,” he says fondly, hand brushing your hair back. “You get whatever, yeah?”
“Okay,” you say, the first true smile forming today.
You got up, eagerly running out of the bathroom and downstairs as Simon yelled a small ‘watch it!’. As he gets up from his knees, he walked into his office – making sure to hear that you’re calling the pickup line before ringing Price.
He immediately answered, asking what he needed. From the way you described their name-calling, the images of you sobbing as he held you, anger filled his veins, knuckles turning white as he clenched his fist with rage. 
“I need a favor.” 
And weeks later, the news began talking about a murder spree – snapping you out of your thoughts, only to see both of your ex-friends, and those teachers on TV. A pang of guilt set through you. But, beside you, your dad had a huge smile; one that was promising to never let anyone hurt you.
Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!
© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.
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writingoddess1125 · 5 months
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Simon with his Triplets
Simon and how he is with each of his triplets.
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Hazel
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• His fighter and his attitude, Wrapped up in the beautiful bundle that was his Hazel.
• Hazel was the most like him in terms of his fighting spirat, While he had simmered down greatly over the years he saw it everyday in his daughter.
• She carried herself with a sense of pride and strength that he couldn't be more proud of.
• Hazel was the defender of the triplets, being the one to fight if anyone dared pick on her other siblings
• Simon had to pick her up from school far too many times for fighting-
• Simon did had to teach her how to control herself, Having to show her different ways to channel her temper- And the best way he found was Boxing
• Simon still kept in shape, not wanting to get weak as time did him in- So he kept up some heavy workouts. So he had the two of them go to the Boxing gym together
• There she blew off steam and trained with him. Well into her late teens she did this picking up MMA as well on her own.
• "Dad I want to go into the military-" She said, firmly as she lowered her arms from the boxing bag. Her fist still in the skull hand gloves he bought her for her 18th birthday. Simon freezing mid set and looked at her-
• "No-" He said simply, before going back to the bag.
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• Hazel glared at him but didn't say anything else but went back to the bag herself. Simon assuming the conversation was over.
• He was going through the mail and sees a Royal Marine letter, assuming it's his he opens it and sees its an acceptance letter for Hazel and her date to start basic.
• Was he proud? Of Course
• Was he also angry that she had hidden this from him, went behind his back and disobeyed him? ABSOLUT-FUCKING-ELY
• Him and Hazel have the argument of the centry- But he was able to calm down enough to hear her out and makes her promise that she won't do anything dangerous as a job- She agrees..
• Then immediately goes in for Special Forces Operations like he did and Simon damn near has a stroke and is ready to drag his daughter by home when he learns of this.
Rose
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• Rose- His little princess. His sunshine and rainbows child.
• She is the dreamer of the trio, Always imagining new things.
• She is also the artist- Has Simon cleaned enough crayon, paint, pencil from the floors and walls to last a lifetime? Yes- Has he bought thousands of dollars worth of supplies and made his credit card cry.. Absolutely
• But Simon loves every painting, statue and drawing imaginable. Keeping them in his office- Even if he doesn't understand artsy things he will smile and thank Rose
• Rose is also his hiking buddy- The two taking a weekends to explore new hiking trails together. Which he uses to rip his daughter away from the grips of the crows of boys that seemed to drool over his precious girl.
• Due to her naturally bubbly and sweet nature she gets a lot more attention from boys then Simon would like-
• "I don't like the boys that try after you, You know what they want-" He said in a warning tone, already irritated at the idea of them sniffing around his little girl.
• "W-Well...Daddy what would you say if I didn't like the boys either-?" She said softly, almost at a whisper- The irritation Simon felt damn near flying out his body.
• Simon looks at her quietly, trying to gauge her reaction only to see she was doing the same-
• "So- You don't like boys? What about girls?" He asked softly, unsure of any other way or working it. Her cheeks turning a flushed pink at this-
• "I see-" He said calmly, Patting Rose's shoulder as they made it over the steep hill of the hiking trail. The two looking over the beautiful scenery before them
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• "Same rules, We have to meet her and her parents and No closed doors" He said simply and with a hint of a smile on his face. Rose smiling as well and nodding-
• Simon is secretly overjoyed to learn his daughter likes girls, he finds it mentally easier. Meets his daughter's girlfriend and will take her along with him hiking.
• She ends up as a Art Teacher, While he didn't understand he absolutely supported it happy she had found her calling.
Johnny
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• Johnny is his Mini-Me and his lad.
• Seeing as your genes didn't even fucking try with Johnny it was just like you copy and pasted Simon. Blonde hair, light eyes and only a shade or two darker then his father. Other then that he got nothing from you-
• He adores his Son and feels proud of him everyday he lived and breathes.
• Johnny still refuses to speak, remaining mute but Simon is fairly certain it's by choice which he respects.
• Simon and him sitting next to each other as you argue with Hazel about something stupid, Johnny discreetly reaching up and taking off his hearing-aids to not hear anymore.
• Simon has to suppress a laugh-
• Johnny often goes hunting with Simon, especially since he's the most into the outdoors besides Rose.
• Is oddly a perfect hunter- Has very quiet steps and is smart with a gun.
• Him and Johnny are sitting in some trees waiting for the elk to go by, Johnny staring out into space a bit as he holds his rifle and thinks.
• Simon seeing this grabs a piece of bark and tosses it at him to get his sons attention. 'Whats wrong?' Simon signs, Johnny sighing lightly.
• 'I guess, just thinking-' Johnny signed. Simon nodding his head for the teen to continue.
• 'Do you wish I wasn't deaf? I could have been military like you, I couldn't have done a lot of things. Like speak.. Does it bother you?'
• Simon felt surprised by this- Shaking his head quickly. 'No-'
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• 'No- I do not care about if you are deaf or dont speaak, it doesnt matter to me. You are my Son- I'd have never let you go into the military either way, I don't want any of you to experience what I have. I want you to live good lives, and long ones not just for me and your mother. But for your name sake. So no, it doesnt bother me' Simon signed, feeling the burn in his chest at remembering his fallen comrade and his sons namesake.
• Johnny sat there, his hands twitching as he tried to think what to say but couldn't. Instead just smiling softly with a nod, turning back to see some elk coming into the clearing.
• The two hunted in peace that night not a word spoken between the two of them.
• "Why the long hair?" Simon ask, noticing the lack of haircut from his boy in the last few months. Johnny shrugs and signs 'Growing it out, Going to see if I like it'
• Never cuts it again- Much to Simon's annoyance
• When Johnny goes to University for Aero Space Engineering he almost cries- while he understands absolutely nothing his boy is saying to him when talking about his homework
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blingblong55 · 1 month
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Isn't she lovely? -141
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Based on a request: simon riley who is a girls dad and his daughter comes home upset one day and very quiet. it goes on like this for the week but not only does he notice but his friends, the taskforce 141 as they are close with simon's family. they get super worried as she's usually happy and brings light into the room but now she's avoiding eye contact, speaking, and jokes. realize she's being bullied at school and they go to the school to "deal" with the situation and make this whole pink themed tea party to make her feel better. ---- No mentions of reader, dad!ghost, fluff, uncles!141 ----
Task Force 1-4-1 is not just a badass team on the field with all those cruel people but also dads and the best uncles any kid could ask for. It's funny, they always joked about those stupid dates they were set up on or the way one of them was getting married and as the years go by they all retire one by one, finding themselves becoming one big family.
Today, at their monthly family dinner, Simon and his lovely wife find themselves hosting the dinner. Their two youngest kids running around with their cousins and Soap's wife, the most energetic aunt of all. "Where's the little one?" Price asks as the oldest child of the group was nowhere in the home. Usually, she'd sit near her uncles and they'd pamper her for being the first and favourite of all kids…but don't tell that to the others.
"School, my missus is picking her up," Simon says before taking a sip from his drink.
And once his pretty wife arrives, his daughter follows along. Her greeting to her aunts and uncles was dry, with no usual jokes or funny comments towards Uncle Soap's long mohawk.
"Wow..stop there, kid, come back," Gaz says but the 8-year-old ignores him.
It's fascinating how these so-called cold-hearted men have turned soft for their loves and little loves. So, if one of them is hurt, the guns and bombs come back just for a moment.
"What happened to 'er?" Soap asks Simon's wife and she sighs. "A boy in her class made fun of her leather jacket and pink dress, she's been like this since I picked her up," she says and Simons sighs in frustration. "Who is the kid?" Simon asks and his wife gives him a knowing look. Headmasters kid, of course.
"I'm going after that little shit," Simon says and as he gets up from the sofa, the other men follow along.
"Simon, no, don't do that-" "My daughter is a cool kid, if she wants to wear a leather jacket like her dad and her pink dress then she will and that fuckin' kid won't make her question how cool she is," he says through gritted teeth.
The four men make their way to the school.
"Are they going to hurt a kid?" Price's wife asks. "Maybe the dad, but not a kid," Soap's wife says.
An hour later, more than they should've taken, the burly men come back. A small smile appears on the soft face of Simon's daughter. "Daddy!" She runs to him.
The four men wearing pink tiaras, pink fluffy tutus and even some pink shirt Soap found at the store. "Cool dads wear pink," the shirt says and although they were tight shirts, their wives have to admit, they look awesome wearing them.
Simon picks his daughter up, "Like my outfit princess?" he kisses her forehead. "It's like mine!" she smiles and Simon nods. "We were jealous that you had to outshine us this way, so…we had to outshine you," he smiles.
"Now, go get your hair up, we'll serve the boring people food and for us five…we'll hold a tea party before dinner," he smiles as he watches his precious daughter's face light up. There she is and her smile.
It was cute and funny, but beautiful enough to have pictures of this moment.
They were truly family men now and that's what anyone would wish for, even if it included tiaras and a sassy uncle.
At a small table, where their knees hit their chest, the four former SAS soldiers sat around, getting served tea and crumpets by a special little princess.
Tags: @liyanahelena @uniquecroissant
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gothghostiie · 2 months
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HAIII! I love you're work soooo much! I had a little idea for you btw!
So imagine girl dad Simon and readers baby girl. They get her ears peirced and she crys HYSTERICALLY. (Bonus of reader feels so bad that they cry with her baby! :()
Remember to drink water and eat please! An apple a day keeps the doctor away!💗
thank you sm darling!! same for you, eat and stay hydrated <3
and I can so see that. poor little girl wanting and begging to have her ears pierced like mommy and daddy but she gets so scared:( shes sobbing as she sees the needle, clinging to her mom who starts crying too, in the end you need to sit on Simon's lap with her in your lap 😭
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cloudofbutterflies92 · 3 months
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Home
Yes they haven't appeared yet but I wanted to make a little moodboard for Diana and Joseph, Eden and Simon's two adopted children. Diana is passionate about skateboarding (Simon fell several times trying to understand how his daughter could be so good at just 10 years old but she learns because her mother) while Joseph has a passion for Batman (he will always say that his father is Batman while his mother is Catwoman) and for painting.
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mactavishsgfandwife · 3 months
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Dad!Simon Takes Your Daughter Swimming 🧸
i’ve started taking adult swimming lessons recently because i literally forgot how to swim 😭 it’s so fun tho and i’m good at it now that i’ve jogged my memory pure fluff! just simon being a good daddy (i love him as a girl dad it just makes sense)
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Walking out of the changing rooms, you hold your daughter’s hand at the edge of the swimming pool, looking about for her father who seems to be taking his sweet time getting his trunks on. For the mean time, you focus on controlling your hyper little girl. Her hair bounces over her shoulders as she jumps up and down excitedly in her pink kiddie wetsuit - almost giving you a heart attack every time she makes a sudden movement, for fear that she’ll slip. In that anxious state, a tall, military man wrapping a strong hand around your waist almost makes you cry out from shock.
"Hello, love," he tries to hide his chuckle at how he made you jump, planting a soft kiss on your temple.
"God, Si, you scared me!" you laugh, still a little breathless, as his toddler starts to whine and tug your hand towards the pool, her arms somewhat restricted by her small yellow armbands.
"Hey, relax," he whispers into your ear softly, taking a moment to calm your anxieties. Oh, and he thinks he’s being smooth and subtle when he checks you out, but he’s definitely not - not that you care. When he sees your tensed shoulders gently start to ease up, he lifts the baby up into the air and steps down into the pool with her, making her shriek in joy. You giggle to yourself, silently noting how your husband chose not to wear that plain black tshirt. He almost always reaches for it when you go swimming, in an attempt to hide his scary scars from the little kids and to retain some of the comfort that he finds in covering himself - the same comfort he finds in his mask. But today, he was just in his trunks, and you couldn’t help but appreciate the sight of his warm, broad back as he held your little daughter on her tummy in the shallow end, encouraging her to "kick!" and "swim to daddy, sweetheart."
With one hand on your stomach, you gently lower yourself down the pool ladder - your back faced away from it to give your (still small) pregnant stomach some room to breathe. Watching you slowly descend into the pool, Simon lifts your three year old up onto his chest so that her chubby cheek is squished against his shoulder, and swims over to you. The little girl babbles and kicks her soft legs, convinced that it will help them move faster, making simon chuckle and plant a little kiss on her forehead before he stops next to you.
"Y’okay?" a firm but gentle hand supports your lower back as you finally land your feet on the bottom of the pool. When you’re down, that same hand wraps further around your back to lightly caress your stomach, the baby in Si’s arms still babbling and trying to swim away like a mermaid (she can’t actually swim).
"’Course I am," you grin, spirit lifted by your family and by the way the water supports your belly, taking some of the pressure off of your tender body.
"Daddy’s been teaching you how to swim, has he?" you let your body float, Simon still holding both of his girls close to him in the water.
"Can swim! I can swim! Swim!" your little girl squeals, her energy shining through her purple goggles, that would leave little rings around her eyes for a few hours after she took them off
"You gonna show Mummy how well you can swim..?" your husband grins. He gently loosens his grip around her, his hands never actually leaving her sides but still not restricting her freedom of movement.
With her new-found freedom, your daughter starts to giggle and kick her legs, chubby arms flailing and splashing water everywhere.
"Swim!” she squeals, wriggling and kicking, simon gently nudging her back upright when she loses her balance, "can swim! Daddy, can swim!"
"That’s right, baby," Simon coos, a little smile growing on the face that’s typically so rugged and serious. He’s so proud. <33
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i hope this was up to standard! tysm for all the love on the last dad!si post!!! i want to do my next one on her falling over (inspired by this video) bc omg imagine him cuddling his little girl and kissing her knee better 😣😣😣
thanks for reading!!
@minimimmies as promised x
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daedreamingghosts · 1 year
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tempted to write Dad!Ghost with a teenager daughter and just ✨angst✨
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nsharks · 1 year
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Hi! I love love LOVE the way you write Ghost and his relationship w/ the reader!! Ignore me if requests are closed, but how did he react when the reader discovered she was pregnant???
"surprising ghost with a pregnancy" words: 1.8k tags: pregnant reader, fem!reader, slight angst?, fluff
“Hope ya don’t miss me during breaks, Lt.”
Soap watches the man he admires, in his infamous ruthlessness and all, stare with a straight gaze at the base’s entrance.
“Only when I drink too much,” Ghost says.
His mask is good for anonymity, yes. But it also does well in moments like these: the Scot beside him has no idea of the pulsing artery in his neck, the eagerness in each flicker of his gaze. He’s looking for you. Looking beyond the gates where you should be hidden somewhere.
Soap has no idea.
“What do you do in your free time, mate?” Soap wonders aloud, shifting the bag over his shoulder. Then, in a cheeky murmur, “Didn’t hear this from me, but I’ve heard whispers ‘bout some criminal activity.”
“Criminal activity?” Ghost repeats dully.
They’re getting closer.
He looks towards the spot you normally wait for him in: is that—?
He can see you.
The tension in his limbs fades to adoration. In the shadows, perfectly hidden but readily visible to his knowing eyes, is his girlfriend. Wearing one of the black hoodies he’d left behind. So big on you. He nearly groans at the sight.
Girlfriend is a weak title.
He hates it. It doesn’t encompass the truth of you: it’s such a simple word, too simple to capture how complicated of an effect you’d had on his life for nearly five years. To say Ghost loves his girlfriend would be to say he has a reason to live. It would be to say that you’ve got this behemoth of a man wrapped so tightly around your finger that his lungs just don’t work the same until he’s holding you.
(Perhaps that’s the reason for the little black box in his bag.)
He turns to the Sergeant and gives a half-hearted clap to his shoulder. “I save the criminal activity for weekends, Johnny.”
And with that, he leaves him (never was one for heartfelt goodbyes).
But he is now one for heartfelt reunions, he figures, because he’s ghosting his way towards you like some wild creature. Preying. Slipping under any eyes. His skeletal hands beyond desperate.
If Soap were to look carefully outside, under the shadow of the building, he’d see how the Lieutenant actually spends his free time.
He’d see his broad form envelop you.
He’d see him eagerly inch up his mask to reveal a pink mouth that doesn’t waste any time before sealing over yours.
And maybe, if he really looked, Soap might’ve been able to see how you cling to Ghost’s chest and tremble.
(But Soap doesn’t see any of this. Not today.)
Not even Ghost, whose got you in his arms, sees the shaking at first. His mind is a bit frenzied with the sensory overload of your smell, your soft hair, your breasts against his chest.
He only ends the kiss so he can get a good look at your face.
“Three months,” he grumbles, lips wet as he ushers the mask back over them. “Felt like a fuckin’ lifetime.”
“I know,” you whisper, but you fail to meet his eyes. “I was worried about you.”
The faintest contour of a smirk beneath his mask.
“Worried, were you?” He rubs your knuckles. “Lovely girl. Don’ worry about me. I’m a bit tough to kill.”
“Don’t,” your eyebrows pinch together. “Please… don’t even mention that.”
He rests his masked chin on top the crown of your head. His arms are so strong and warm and you breathe it all in. His hands stroke your hair with the gentlest of caresses as if, even after five years, he thinks you might be a fragile dream.
“I was so worried,” you say again. A whisper that he barely hears. “I—“
It’s now that he notices something. The rush of adrenaline has soothed over and now, taking your hands in his, Ghost notices the little tremors, swallows them up in the gulf of his large palms.
“Jesus, love,” he frowns. “You’re trembling.”
“There’s… something—“
Ashen eyelashes flutter against smudges of black paint. His shoulders tense as he pulls his chin away from your scented hair. Shifting his weight from boot to boot, Ghost further tucks you behind the colossal mass of him so even now, if someone were to look, all they’d see was his back.
His brows furrow behind a hard-shell skull. “What something?”
You’ve practiced these word so many times but now—
“What?” your boyfriend repeats, low and gruff. His relief is quickly turning into something dark. “Fuck, tell me. Did somethin’ happen?”
“Well, yes—“
“Christ,” he chokes. He doesn’t want to assume the worst, but it’s a gnawing fear. Always. “Someone else?”
“No, Simon.” You’re shaking your head. “It’s not that—“
“What is it then? What’s got you like this?”
“Just—“ and you swallow your fear, “Give me your hand, baby.”
“My hand,” he repeats numbly and offers you one. You take his hand and tug at the glove. There’s little give, so he swears under his breath and helps you pry the fabric off to reveal warm, calloused skin.
Here, tucked away outside a military base, you guide his bare hand under the hoodie you’ve got on. Hold his fingers and spread them apart so he can cup the small growth of your stomach.
Because the reason for your trembling lies here.
Small, growing. Supple skin stretching over a little piece of him and you.
It takes him a moment to process the news under his hand.
He smooths his hand over you. Even after three months, he knows every inch.
This—
This feels different.
You watch a kaleidoscope of realizations, feelings, and perturbation play in his eyes.
You’ve had to keep this secret to yourself for weeks now because it wasn’t something you could just share over the phone. It was too heavy. Too intimate.
Surely, it’ll distract him from his job.
That’s what you figured. But now—
—seeing his eyes cloud frantically, you wonder if showing up 16 weeks pregnant was the best move.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Ghost murmurs. Keeps moving his hand over your little belly as if he’s not quite sure it’s real.
So you lift up the hoodie even more, just here for the two of you to see, and reveal the entirety of your secret for him to peer down at.
And now that he sees it, the unmistakeable bulge, the reality truly sinks in.
He’s silent at first. You kind of expected him to be: your boyfriend is a man of few words. But it doesn’t make the drawn-out moment of uncertainty any less excruciating. You study his eyes with a bated breath.
Children. It’s not something you talked about too much. He’d said in the very beginning that it was completely off the table because “I’d make an awful father”.
But that was years ago and Simon had molded into someone softer, someone less afraid. Someone who, with the help of your love and light, had ripped through the tangled ropes of distrust and guilt that he’d been caught in.
“Say something,” you finally whisper. “Please, Simon. I know- I know this is surprising.”
But all he utters is, “How?”
“The pill isn’t perfect,” you explain sheepishly. “That’s what the doctor told me—“
“…Doctor?”
“Well, I’ve been to the doctor a few times already.”
Lowly, “You… a few times?”
“To make sure everything was alright, baby,” you whisper carefully. “But I— I didn’t ask for the sex yet. I wanted to… I thought you’d want to be with me for that.”
Ghost is controlled. He’s precise and tactical and rarely caught off-guard. But this, the swell that lays under his hand which he hasn’t been able to look away from, has managed to thrust him into feelings he rarely experiences. He feels confused. Shaken to the core. He’s spent most of his adult life determined to stay alone, protect anyone from ever getting caught in the hallow storm of tragedy that is his life.
But you—
You infiltrated his life with promises of bright colors and warm touches and suddenly, somehow, Ghost began to enjoy coming home. He ached for it. He wanted to keep you close and safely tucked away so that little light of yours would never fade from his life.
And now you’ve given him another promise, one that rests in his palm. Death— he understands that too well, perhaps. But this little promise of life is so new and confusing and in mere seconds, it has torn the past from the future. Ghost could never be the same shell of a person he once was because now he’s been filled to the brim. Could he even be trusted with all of this? He’d always felt like there was a carved void where his boyhood had been taken from him, ripped away by terror. How could he be a father with such hole in his chest?
What could he give?
You’re crying. He’s been thrown into such a daze that he failed to notice the onslaught of tears and quiet sniffling coming from his girl.
“Hey,” he’s grounded in the present now, swallowing down the shards of his hesitation and wrapping his arms around you. He could give this. “Hey now. I’m here… I’m here.”
“You’re here?” you ask him, weeping.
“Yes, sweetheart. Christ, m’here. Always.”
In perhaps his first act of fatherhood, Ghost holds you close and murmurs promises of love and safety into your hair. You’d been so scared to tell him. He wouldn’t leave you, no, he could never. If there was ever an ounce of worry that he might—
It’s now smothered by his presence, his warmth, his strength.
“You’re making me a father,” Ghost whispers after the two of you just stand there for sometime. His voice: terrified and in awe all at once. “Don’t know if I’ll be a good one.”
“Simon-“
“But-“ And he gives the entirety of you a squeeze. He’s not going anywhere. “But I won’t be like my old man. Fuck, I swear it to you.”
“I know you won’t, Simon.”
Ghost decides to push his inhibitions to the back of his mind. He can be strong, he can be what you need. He will prove this to you over and over.
“And here I thought you jus’ liked wearing my clothes,” Ghost mumbles, a bit numb and a bit elated.
He reaches for your stomach again and rubs the bump over the fabric of his hoodie. (Perhaps, here lies another reason to live.)
Your crying has ceased. Twisting his uniform in your hands, you murmur with a weak laugh, “Might be the only thing that fits me soon.”
“Bloody hell.” And Ghost sighs. Holding the two of you now, he already feels like all the synapses in his brain have been rewired. Lighted up with a primal urge to protect, he doesn’t think about all the worries for right now. No— just thinks about how he’s going to smother your stomach with kisses once you’re home.
“I’ve got plenty more of those for you to wear.”
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obsessivelullabies · 1 month
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cw. pregnant reader, fluff, simon riley x reader.
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you were sat comfortably on your husband’s lap, nestled in bed. a comfort show of yours was playing in the background.
simon’s large hand was rubbing your swollen belly in a loose circle, a comforting gesture.
“how ya feelin’, lovie?” your husband whispered softly.
you sighed, “i feel eight months pregnant.. not too good.”
simon’s hand rested on the peak of your belly, concern etched on his face. he’d been worried about you through your whole pregnancy.
“need anything? anything at all?” his tone was soft, surprisingly tender for his character.
“..can you just stay here with me?” you pouted, the thought of him leaving nearly bringing you to tears. pregnancy hormones.
simon smiled to himself, kissing the back of your neck. “of course, hun. you’re everything to me. you and our son.” he gently patted your belly.
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i’m so sorry i’ve been inactive! i’m five months pregnant and i’ve been so sick! i’ll get to working on my requests soon, mwah!
masterlist!
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The Timeline
As we already established I have zero self control so I decided to sort out the timeline of the 141 wives AU because it is a mess. So buckle up and enjoy my timeline:
4th of November 2013 - Christopher and Daniel Price were born.
18th of December 2017 - Fernando Vargas (Alejandro's son) was born.
* Christopher and Daniel are 4
20th of July 2018 - Sophia Riley was born. Firstborn of Simon.
* Christopher and Daniel are 4 (will turn 5) years old
* Fernando is 7 months.
14th of February 2019 - Aya was born in Urzikstan.
* Christopher and Daniel are 5 (will turn 6)
* Fernando is 1 year an 2 months (will turn 2)
* Sophia is 7 months (will turn 1)
January 2020 (Procedure started in November 2019) - Aya was adopted by Riley family after the Russian occupation of Urzikstan came to an end. Aya's family were killed by rising Al-Quatala (I can add some angst about Aya's biological family if you want)
* Christopher and Daniel are 6 (will turn 7)
*Fernando is 2 (will turn 3)
* Sophie is 1 (will turn 2)
1st of April 2020 - Charlotte (Lottie) Riley was born. She was supposed to be a Charles Riley but the April fools day magic.
7th of May 2020 - Anita Vargas (Alejandro's daughter) was born.
* Christopher and Daniel are 6 will turn 7
* Fernando is 2 (will turn 3)
* Sophie is 1 (will turn two)
* Aya is 15 months
2022 - MWII takes place from 16th of July 2022 to the 4th on November 2022 (Ghost was in Al-Mazrah during Sophie's birthday 😭)
* Christopher and Danny are 9
* Fernando is 5
* Anita is 2
* Sophie is 4
* Aya is 3
* Lottie is 2
October 30th 2022 - Sarah Riley was born.
2023 - The OG Riley girls story idea takes place aka In hiding phase (Soap and Gaz learn than Simon has a family)
* Christopher and Daniel are 10
* Fernando is 6
* Anita is 3
* Sophie is 5
* Aya is 4
* Lottie is 3
* Sarah is 1
10th of August 2024 - Fergus MacTavish was born.
* Christopher and Daniel are 10 (will turn 11)
* Fernando is 6 (will turn 7)
* Anita is 4
* Sophie is 6
* Aya is 5
* Lottie is 4
* Sarah is 1 (will turn 2)
2026 - Captured Riley family fic from @uselsshuman
23rd of March 2027 - Rose Garrick was born
* Christopher and Daniel are 13 (will turn 14)
* Fernando is 9 (will turn 10)
* Anita is 6 (will turn 7)
* Sophie is 8 (will turn 9)
* Aya is 8
* Lottie is 6 (will turn 7)
* Sarah is 4 (will turn 5)
* Fergus is 2 (will turn 3)
17th of January 2028 - Lilly Price was born
* Christopher and Daniel are 14 (will turn 15)
* Fernando is 10 (will turn 11)
* Anita is 7 (will turn 8)
* Sophie is 9 (will turn 10)
* Aya is 8 (will turn 9)
* Lottie is 7 (will turn 8)
* Sarah is 5 (will turn 6)
* Fergus is 3 (will turn 4)
* Rose is 9 months (will turn 1)
6th of September 2035 - Johnathan Thomas Riley was born (the unexpected Leach baby)
* Christopher and Daniel are 21 (will turn 22)
* Lilly is 7
* Fernando is 17 (will turn 18)
* Anita is 15
* Sophie is 17
* Aya is 16
* Lottie is 15
* Sarah is 12 (will turn 13 and I honestly waited with JT untill all Riley girls are teens)
* Fergus is 11
* Rose is 8
My Gosh it took me roughly around forever. Anyway here's the timeline according to me, accept is as cannon if you want or ignore it if you don't agree.
I'm out
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yandere-kokeshi · 8 months
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your platonic yan dad ghost hit different (daddy issues rise up). It got me thinking (not a request just food for thought) how would he react to kiddo somehow secretly dating someone behind his back? Even worse if it’s someone he knows like Gaz/another recruit. Who doesn’t love drama lol
Yeah, he doesn't approve of this. He mainly disagrees on the point of dating at all. The moment you entered the stage of wanting to date boys/girls, (possibly during your Twilight stage ;)), he immediately shuts it down with his 'dad glare'. At this point, It's not even a question of whether he'll accept it; it's a question of how far your s/o can run until they get shot in the head from him.
Unlike the other dads, Ghost is strict – the strictest out of everyone. He expects you to know things, especially with dating. You should understand his reasoning without any explanation. If needed, he will kill your s/o in front of you. Though, he doesn't want for you to see how brutal he can be; ruining the image he wants you to have for him.
How you could date under his strict containment is beyond me. But, when breaking his rules, there are punishments and consequences. He will ground you, taking away all and every electronic you could have, and putting 'extra security' on you. This involves taking away your privacy, meaning all doors, any locks or secret items you're hiding are immediately in his room for supervision.
And if he finds out your s/o is another recruit? He'll make sure their life is a living hell on campus. Always demanding training. 'Accidentally' punching them too hard, and purposely making them do mistakes on the field, making them AWOL or dying in some way.
Such a shame, hm? Don't worry, your dad is here to comfort you once you get the news of their death.
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