#dad simon riley

[chaosandmarigolds]

What??? Sorry! Lemme just drop some more Dad!Simon on your plate before I run away to finish up finals

Simon! Who doesn’t like leashes, thinks they’re demeaning and told you he would never because Ollie ‘is a well behaved gentleman’

…who takes after his Uncle Johnny

Simon! Who is constantly getting that boy out of trees, off the top of play areas, and one time off the top of a fire truck

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Uh-is-is that your-“

“ISTER RILEY LOOK IT AT HOW TALL I AM!! ISTER RILEY LOOOK ITT!!!”

Simon! Who ops for the one that look like a little lion backpack, and can store stacks because it has to versatile!

Simon! Who uses Johnny as a scapegoat for the days he’s too tired to play

“ITS UNCLE SOAPY!!”

“It’s my favorite lil’ devil!!”

Simon! Who takes Ollie on walks as soon as the sun comes up because that boy….that boy is an endless mount of energy

Simon! Who once accidentally gave Ollie a coffee frappe instead of a not coffee frappe and well-

“What did you do to him?” You stand in the door way of his house, looking exhausted, “I gave him two melatonin gummies! Two!! He-“

You both slowly watch as Ollie saunters through the threshold of Simon’s house and then collapses on the ground- something that was bound to happen after being awake for 35 hours. You look back to Simon, “You are SO lucky you’re cute.”

…

“Luv you too?”

(Actual footage of me running away after posting 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️. Comments, feedback and anything like it make my day! Annnnnd that’s all! <33)

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x you #cod x you #simon riley x reader #coco's chaos <3 #cod fluff #simon ghost x you #ghost x female reader #simon riley x female reader #dad!ghost #dad!simon riley #dad simon riley

[wolfieisacat]

Simon Riley is the type of guy who at the beginning of your pregnancy is like “god the kid isn’t even born yet and I’m already sick of them can they be 18 yet?” And then three years later he’s sobbing into your shoulder while your pregnant with your second kid like “how the fuck is our daughter almost four she’s getting so old i swear last month she was wrapping her tiny hand around my finger how did this HAPPEN?!”

#dad simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #wolfie posting #please take off please take off please take off

[divine-draws]

POV you knock on the Riley-MacTavish door and get greeted with this (originally posted on my ko-fi)

#GHOAP BABY!!!! #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghost #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod #mw #cod mw #trans simon ghost riley #trans simon riley #ghoap dads #oc baby #dad simon riley #divine draws #fanart #digital

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

Baby's first fever

Simon Riley x Reader w/ daughter (Lizzy)

(Photo credit to @ave661, go check her renders out, they're really good)

Parenthood is a terrifying experience, especially as first time parent. Even with preparation, all the books, and a loving husband. Lizzy had been sniffly the night before, but not too terribly. Nothing of concern though.

So imagine your surprise when you go to check on your 6 month old in the morning and you feel her head is hot.

"Ohh no no no baby" You say, panicked as you gently pick her up. Her little whimpers practically break your heart as you take her to your shared with Simon. You push the door open and see that Simon is already getting dressed, pulling his shirt off.

"Si she's sick, like really sick" You say, trying to not cry, anxiety rising. Fevers as an adult or even as a teenager are easier to fight off but as a baby? It truly is cause for concern.

He holds his arms out to hold Lizzy and puts the back of his hand to her forehead, frowning at the warmness. He gently swipes his thumb on her cheek and kisses her forehead.

"You not feelin good, sweetheart?" He asks her, "come on, let's get ya some medicine, hm?"

He leans over and kisses you on the forehead, "C'mon mama"

He walks to the bathroom, with you short behind, and opens the medicine. He hands Lizzy off to you, and opens the medicine cabinet.

"Glad we got this, huh?" He smiles slightly, opening the bottle of kid's ibuprofen. He Snaps one of the little tablets in half shows the little piece to Lizzy, smiling at her.

"Open up, love" he says softly, "Gonna make ya feel better"

He gently parts her lips and puts the small tablet on her tongue. She immediately starts to suck on the tablet, nose slightly scrunching from the weird tastes. He runs his fingers through her soft curls, kissing her head. He notices you trying to keep calm, your lip twitching slightly and obviously keeping back tears.

"She'll be okay, just a lil sick, ya?", He tucks your hair behind your ear and kisses you, "C'mon, lets give her a bath"

He sits you down on the toilet while he runs an slightly cooler bath so that she doesn't go into shock. While he runs the bath, you look down at Lizzy. Her face is a little red and her nose is runny. Your eyes well up in tears. Logically you know she'll be okay, but she's so little.

You never thought a baby with Simon would/ could happen, yet here she was. Brown curls, big brown eyes just like her dad's, a shining reflection of the man you love. Nothing prepared you for the overwhelming love you felt when you first held her. The click of motherhood that you instantly had when her skin touched yours causing you to cry. Your sweet girl.

You snap out your thoughts as you hear Simon call for you.

"Hm?" you say half mindedly, looking up at him.

"Bath's ready"

You hum in acknowledgement, standing up and setting her down on the counter, undressing her. You check the water temperature, and gently set her in the baby bath basket you got for her. She splashes a little, feeling cold in the room temperature water due to her fever. She whimper and fusses and you sniffle again.

"I know baby, I know", you coo at her, "You'll be okay, my love. Just gotta get you clean, yeah?"

The bath goes smoothly (with a few tears let's be honest). You pass her off to Simon as you go off to get her crib sheets and blankets changed out and pick out her outfit. Simon walks in with her in her little towel and a fresh diaper. You help change her into her clothes and go to the kitchen to make her a half bottle of warm formula.

You grab the bottle and head towards the nursery but notice he's laying on the couch with Lizzy on his chest. Standing in the doorway, you can see how tired they both are, Lizzy sick and Simon, well, REASONS 👀. You go back to the kitchen and put the bottle into the fridge for later. You gently tiptoe into the living room so you don't wake them up, and cuddle up to Simon's arms.

You check Lizzy's breathing and forehead temperature before allowing yourself to relax into him. His arm pulls you into him as he kisses your forehead.

"She's gonna be okay, baby. L'ts get some rest"

#call of duty modern warfare #ghost cod #cod x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader daughter #Simon Riley x reader pregnant #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley #mw2 ghost #dad simon riley #COD x reader

[obsessivelullabies]

being simon riley’s housewife: pregnancy!

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.

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!

#cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x female reader #simon x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x you #simon riley fluff #dad simon riley #dad ghost

[bts5sosempire]

A/n: another blurb cuz why tf not? Another Dad!Simon and this man deserve all the softness in the world. Plus, I am not a professional in baby-ology, so take this cute drabble with a grain of salt. 🤟🏻

Simon was convinced his child hated him; the first six months were hard. He might as well get a reward trophy for participation in creating one of the prettiest girls in the world instead. The man tried to get his daughter to get used to him, but every time he hold her, the baby girl realized she wasn't in her mother's arms and they wriggled, before fussing and let out a few cries before going to a full-blown one. Thus, this lead you having to drop whatever you're doing and tend to the baby instead as Simon take over the current chore(s).

"Simon, just give it some time."

The sentence you always use to comfort him, but he still feels a little discouraged, maybe a bit hurt on the inside at the baby's refusal to be in his arms. He was excited for nine months to see his baby girl, but only for her to reject him once she came out of the womb.

"She'll come around, and once she do it'll be worth the wait."

.

The only time the baby seems to stay content in his arms, albeit a little angsty like always when you're not around, and the calmness appears to remain stagnant only for a moment until she starts fussing again; their little whimpers begin to bubble out, as wondering glossy little beady eyes search the room for you as they feel disconnected from their mother who was nowhere to be seen. Simon does his best to quell the child and soothe them before they can cry again.

But alas, it failed as their eyes had tears wounded up in them, and he already knew the signal cries she was going to make. So he had to speed dial you on call and put you on speaker to talk to the child. Honestly, Simon felt terrible for calling you for something as minor as this when he promised to take care of the baby and that he 'got this' for the next few hours when you did the shopping run. "Sorry, Love, it seems she wants to hear you."

Once the baby has heard your voice, they immediately stop crying and listen intently to your sound, like in a trance. The man felt hopeless about the child wanting you only, not him; he watched how they calmed down into obedience as he rocked them from side to side. The amazing things you do that soothe the child in a heartbeat.

But it wasn't until your voice was directed at him.

"Simon, I know you're doing your best trying to have her adjust to you, and I want you to know that I am proud of you for not giving up."

His heart warms at that.

.

It was late noon when he let his baby girl sprawl on the floor inside her playpen as he was watching a show while keeping an eye on her. The moment the little girl gained consciousness as a separate entity from her mother, she began to roll over on her stomach before crawling to sit up, and her little eyes glossed over, looking around the playpen, searching for the maternal needs before it landed on Simon who took his eyes off her for a fraction.

Her little bottom lips begin to quiver and poke out before bursting into tears as Simon quickly steps into his fatherly instinct and scoops up the baby into his arms, silencing her. They bleary wipe their beady tears away with stubby fingers before looking up at him and seeing her father's eyes looking down at her. She sniffed as Simon wiped the snot away with a thumb under her nose, "It's okay, I got you," his voice deeply resonated when he patted her back as his baby girl kept looking at him like it was seeing him for the first time in a different light.

With another sniffle and a little disgruntled noise, she rubs her eyes again and presses her forehead to the thumping side of his heart, slowly calming down. She realized it wasn't so bad to be in her father's arms and have another parent close to her to ease her separation anxiety.

It felt like magic for Simon, how she eased her miniature body into his instead of rejecting him and crying for you until you had to come and get her. He continues to soothe her while swaying from side to side, and you pop out of the corner on the open archway into the living room from the kitchen to see the rainbow after the storm.

You were about to say something, but you quietly mouth:

"I told you so; enjoy it."

With a smile.

#cod x reader #ghost cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod #cod ghost #simon ghost x reader #cod simon ghost riley #cod simon riley #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost x reader #cod fluff #cod drabble #dad simon riley

[peachesofteal]

First Sight

Chapter 1 of 2. Part five of the Sassy series. Reblogs, comments, likes, interactions, etc are cherished by me. 🖤

Simon Riley/female reader 5.9k words - AO3

Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI, pregnant reader, PTSD, thigh riding, Simon talks you through it, praise kink, explicit sex, jealousy, possessive Simon, angst, tenderness, mentions of blood and violence, nightmares, childbirth, medical procedures, Simon is bad at feelings; Simon is learning how to have his feelings. Simon has felt this before.

“And you are?” 

“I’m her… I’m the baby’s father. We had her information updated two weeks ago, at the office. I’m listed as her emergency contact.” The doctor looks skeptical but taps a few keys on her laptop before she glances back to him. 

“Last name?” 

“Riley.”

“Sorry, Mr. Riley. She’s been my patient for nearly seven months, and I’ve never seen or heard of you.” Bloody hell. His jaw clenches together so hard he thinks his teeth might shatter. 

“I’ve been overseas.” The lights and sounds are scratching under his skin, making him tense, priming him for a fight. “I came in on the ambulance with her... I have to be with her. She can’t be alone when she wakes up. She’ll be scared. She won’t… she has P-.” 

“I am aware of her history.” The doctor snipes and his fist tightens, tendons curling until his hand becomes a weapon, not thing the of comfort it was a mere ten minutes ago. 

“Look. I’m on her list. So you can let me back there or-“ She holds her hand up to silence him and the vein in his forehead pulses. 

“I’ve already paged a tech to bring you to her room, Mr. Riley. It’s just going to be a few minutes.” She gives him a reproachful look before she says something about coming by to check on you shortly, and he lets out a long breath.

You’re somewhere else. Your eyes are trained on the e-reader in your hand, but they’re not moving across the screen. You’re not blinking. Your breathing is even, and deep, but your fingers are fisted in the blanket, and your gaze is burning a hole through the bed, through the floor, possibly right down to the core of the earth.

It makes Simon nervous.

Not because he is afraid of your PTSD.

He is afraid of you slipping away. Sometimes, you leave and come back a different girl, the guarded one, the one that hasn’t tried to forgive him, the one who is reliving the pain he caused her every second. The one who takes your place when you disappear right in front of him, who’s memories burn too bright.

He knows he may never be fully absolved in your mind, but you still show him mercy. You still let him in, still let him have you, except in the moments when you fall through his fingers like tiny grains of sand. Those moments may have been earned, but it doesn’t make their sting any less painful, and he struggles in throes of them.

“Sass?” He calls, cautiously, reaching for where your hand is clenched. His fingers graze the sheets, the softness of the fabric much like your skin. They must be expensive, he figures, the cotton luxurious against the rough scrape of his palm. He thinks he likes the color, the soft green that matches the chair and the trim in the baby’s room. “Glacial green,” you correct him every time he calls it light green, or blue green, or pea soup. It’s a natural tone, earthy, and you seem to gravitate towards it, always telling him you think the color is ‘soothing’ or ‘calming’. You have a few shirts and sweaters in the same palette too, and an old, faded sweatshirt that you used to wear when you were with the 141, worn out lettering stitched across the chest. It was too big for you then, always drooping below the flare of your hips, the hem stretched out and curled. Now, it pulls snugly across your middle while you lay in bed beside him, where the e-reader sits in your dainty fingers. He doesn’t know how you’ve done it, keep your fingers so velvet and smooth, even after your years in the desert. “Sass.” He tries again, louder, squeezing with the lightest bit of pressure until you blink.

“I’m here.”

“I know.” You turn your face up towards him with a sleepy smile, and he reaches for you without hesitation. “Tired?” He murmurs into your hair, your nose just slightly smashed into his neck.

“Mmm. Yeah, sleep sounds nice.” He finds the light easily, pulling the room into darkness with a flick of the chain, and returns to press his face to yours before succumbing to the pull of sleep.

“I mean, did you get a good look at her?”

“Shit. I’d bury my face in that ass. EOD is air force, right? Think she’s got a landing strip?”

“Dunno but I’d be coming in for a landing all the time if she was on my squad.” The table of privates laugh to each other, and Simon’s fingers curl around the bottom of the beer bottle in front of him. He briefly considers, for a moment, if Price would dismiss him if he broke it over one of their heads and then used the shards to slit the rest of their throats. Bleed ‘em out right there on the table. 

He shifts on the stool. Johnny gives him a skeptical look. One of them, says something else. Sounds a little like ‘tight’ and ‘pussy’ strung together. Another one snickers. 

He’s on his feet behind them before anyone realizes. The low drone of rage pressurizes inside his skull. 

“Want to share what’s so funny, private?” The table falls silent immediately, all of them staring up at him, dumbfounded.

“N-nothing’s funny, sir.”

“Ya sure about that?” Johnny chimes in before Simon can say anything. 

“The bomb tech, we were just… appreciating her. Saying how nice it must be nice, having something like that to look at all the time.” Simon can feel the heat of Johnny’s gaze on the nape of his neck.

“The bomb tech outranks you, private. You will address her as Sergeant.”

“Y- yes, sir.”

When he gets back to the base and little house the 141 is crammed into, you’re already asleep in your room. Sprawled across the shitty thin mattress, your shirt rucked up around your stomach, little boyshorts riding the curve of your hips. The scar from Belize is still shiny across your ribs, peachy and puckered. The sight of you safe and sleeping soothes the raw buzzing of anger in the back of his head. 

His girl. His. 

He’s already got his hands all over you by the time he gets his boots off, and you shift a little when he presses his face into the top of your ass. 

“Simon?” you mumble. “Y’okay?” Simon, Simon, Simon. It’s always Simon with you now. You’re constantly stripping him bare with it, and he doesn’t even know your name.

He teases a hand across your skin, over the scar and up under the peak of your breast to your nipple, where he rolls the already hardening bud between his fingers. You shudder with a moan, shoulders twisting to turn yourself on your back, but he stops you. His teeth find the swell of your ass, and he sinks them deep. You squeak. 

“Can you hold still?” He says, your body answering for you with a shiver. The bite woke you sharply, and you watch him out of the corner of your eye. 

He pulls the underwear down your legs until they disappear, and then sinks his fingers into your cheeks. The glisten of your cunt shimmers, already wet, already waiting for him. 

“Scoot back, sweet girl. Up on your knees.” You do as he says, shimmying down until you’re pressing against his thigh, clit ghosting against the fabric of his jeans, just barely. Your hips are shifting, slowly, and he knows you’re trying to get just a little bit more friction. He leans over you, gloved hand in your hair. “Now be good for me and rub your desperate little clit on my leg until you come.” You shake your head no and he rears back, pulling off his shirt and gloves, leaving the mask and his jeans the only thing on his body. He slaps you across your ass, just hard enough to watch the skin turn under his palm, and you jolt with a moan, cunt pushing back against his leg. “Do you want me to give you my cock, Sass?” you nod frantically. “Then ride my thigh until you’re coming on it.” The curve of a smile, a smirk, pushes at your cheek, and you start to move your hips, slowly at first, and then fevered, chasing your high while he watches. “That’s my girl, just like that.” 

You start to jerk erratically, your face screwing up into the little pout and he knows you’re close. “You going to come Sass?” You mewl pathetically, mouth making desperate sounds and he watches you rub yourself all over him. “Sweet girl. That’s it, just a little more. There you go.” Your gasps reach a fever pitch, and he groans. “Ride it out, good girl. Come all over me.” His jeans are smeared with you, but he praises you, telling you how good you were, how much he likes that you made a mess on him. Once you come down from it, he strips and presses himself along your back, rucking the balaclava up to his nose to pull the skin beneath your ear between his teeth. He wants to mark you, hard. Leave an impression of himself on your body, brand you down to your bones. Tomorrow, when those fuckwit privates line up for brief, he wants them to know. 

He sinks into you as deep as he can, little noises coming from your mouth as he splits you open on his cock, your cunt so tight it feels like it’s choking him.

“Si-Simon.” It’s his name, again. You’re flaying him alive with it. When you say it, it feels like he’s not wearing the mask, it feels like he is Simon, and not Ghost. He’s becoming addicted to it, consumed by it. It makes his head foggy, makes him do things that he’s never done, like approach a table of infantry and scare them out of running their mouths, or mark you like you belong to him. You cloud his judgement. You make him want things, things he doesn’t deserve, things he could never have. You make him soft, and desperate, and when you turn and look over your shoulder as he slams himself to the hilt, your gaze burns into him like you’re seeing him. Like you know. 

“Please, don’t.” Your voice breaks as you beg, clutching the baby to your chest. Your face is bruised, nose probably broken, and tears stream down your cheeks. You’re trembling, eyes desperate as you plead. “Simon. Simon, get up. Please, get up.” He tries, but he can’t. He is beaten. His body is broken, bones shattered, organs bleeding out slowly inside him. The cool metal kiss of a barrel presses to your temple and you scream at him, for him, he’s not sure anymore. “SIMON GET UP.” His body weighs a thousand pounds, and cannot lift himself to help you, to save either of you. The gun cocks, and you close your eyes right before the finger on the trigger moves, the bang echoing across the room and your-

He jerks awake, immediately seeking the warmth of your body next to him in bed. When he feels you, his chest loosens, and you shift onto your side, cracking an eye open.

“Hey.” Your voice is thick with sleep, but still sweet as honey, and he takes your hand in his. Your pulse flutters under his palm. Strong. Stable.

“Hey.”

“Nightmare?” He nods.

“Go back to sleep.” You roll your eyes, flicking on the light that sits at your bedside table.

“I’ve been sleeping forever, I am practically sleeping beauty at this point.” You stroke through his hair, nails scratching against his scalp. “Wanna talk about it?” you whisper, and he shakes his head. Yeah, Sass. Want to hear all about how I keep dreaming of your bloody corpse? Or about how I keep seeing you and our son being murdered right in front of me, over and over and I’m powerless to stop it? That’ll do real well for your stress level. Instead, he smooths his hand over the swell of your belly, where the baby sleeps, warm and protected, safe from everything out here that might hurt him. “You promised.” You needle, and the slight push is all that’s needed to relent.

“I keep… dreaming of you dying. Or being killed, in front of me. You and the baby.” You sit up a little and he immediately pulls the second pillow down behind the small of your back for support.

“Dying how?” He swallows.

“Someone’s holdin’ a gun to your head and you’re begging me to save you, but I can’t. I’m lying on the floor, bleeding out.”

“Sounds pretty scary.” There are a lot of things, that he hasn’t found the courage to say out loud to you yet. Promises and pledges, thoughts about being grateful and feelings of adoration. He wants to tell you how much he appreciates that you listen to him, that you validate him, but the words never come out, so he presses a kiss to your forehead before sliding down so his head is resting on the side of your belly.

The memory of the dream skips across the forefront of his mind, and he can still see you lying in a pool of blood, little boy lifeless in your arms. The blood, that looks just like the blood that covered the walls and the floor of his family’s house. His mom’s blood. Tommy and Beth’s. Joseph’s. The blood, that looks just the same as it did when he found you unconscious a few weeks ago, smells the same as when it poured out of the wound in your stomach in Belize. The blood, the blood, the-

“Simon.” He doesn’t even realize he’s breathing harshly until he hears you saying his name. “Hey, Si. Simon, it’s alright.” You stroke up and down his arm, tracing a faded pattern in his sleeve. “You’re here, in my house. In my bed. With me. There is no danger.”  

“With you.”

“With me. And the baby. We’re here, together. We’re safe.” He turns his head, pressing his ear to your skin. Swoosh swoosh swoosh. The heartbeat soothes the frayed edges of his nerves, and the two of you sit just like that for a while, content. “Shit.” You groan, the sound a low whisper, and anxiously rub your belly. He waits for what he knows is coming, the pure, sweet melody that you hum when you try to settle the baby. The once guilty pleasure, when he would stand just out of sight so he could hear it, is now a full indulgence, as he’s able to lay beside you and rub circles into your skin while you hum softly.

It doesn’t come.

Instead, you gasp in surprise.

“Sass? What is it?”

“I… I think I peed myself.”  

“Hey!” No. How did you find him so fast? “Simon, wait.” When you say his name, it jams into his brain, scrambling the signal, and forcing his steps to falter. It’s just enough for you to catch him. “Look. I know you’re mad. I know I fucked up.” You’re breathing heavily, probably from sprinting down the row of tents that he had ducked past, and you push your hands out in front of you like you’re trying to cage him in. “But I made sure Gaz was alright, and I still had a job to do! Those charges were my priority, I wouldn’t have split up otherwise. Simon, I understand-“ He cuts you off swiftly.

“You can address me by my call sign, Sergeant.” You startle. He looks away, looks anywhere else but your face, where your gaze waits to peel him open. 

“What?”

“You will address me as Ghost, or Lieutenant.” 

You’re guarded now, expression wary, but there’s still something hopeful in your eyes, something that’s calling him home to you.

He has to get away. Now. 

You take an uneasy step forward, hand extended like you’re going to touch him. 

“Simon.” You whisper. 

He steps back. 

Your face falls. 

He’s tactical about it. The bag, the extra pillow, your shoes. A phone charger, the collection of snacks you’ve been hoarding recently, like a dragon hoards their gold. He remembers everything.

Almost everything.

His phone rings when he’s buckling his seatbelt.

“So, should I like, call an uber or are you going to help me get in the truck?” Bloody hell. He nearly beats his head against the steering wheel before he’s unbuckling and running towards the door. You’re standing in the living room, hands on your hips, unimpressed, with a hint of a smile on your lips.

“I’m sorry, I-“ you wave him off, reaching for his arm.

“Come on, you gotta boost me up.”

His eyes dart back and forth from the road, to where you sit, stone-faced in the passenger seat. You’ve been quiet since he pulled out of the driveway, the silence an uneasy thing that rests heavily between the two of you, and he reaches for your hand that lays limp on the seat.

“How’s the pain?”

“Not too bad.” You’re chewing on your lip, still lost in thought for a moment before you speak again. “Simon. If something happens…” his blood freezes.

“Nothing is going to happen.”

“We’ve never discussed it though. What to do if something goes wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Something has already gone wrong. Everything has gone wrong. It can’t get worse. It can’t. 

“Well, if there are complications and we have to choose…” He almost pulls the truck over, his heart seizing in his chest like he’s been electrocuted. A million scenarios slam through his brain at record speed, flipping open in front of him like a picture book. Everything he’s imagined before, but worse. This time, it’s not mercs, or a stray bullet, or shadowed government assassins that take you away from him, but your own body, or a doctor, or-

No. He would not be without you if there was a choice. Not again. 

“There is no choice, Sass.” His voice is gruff, and you palm your belly with a gulp. “We… I, would choose you. A million times. A million and one. There is no other choice… for me.”

“Okay.” You whisper. A tear rolls down your cheek before it’s hastily wiped away, and you turn to him with wide eyes.

“Okay.” He echoes, taking your hand in his.

You almost died. You almost died, and he wasn’t there. Johnny almost died, and you almost died, and he can’t stop thinking about the two of you wandering around trying to find the 141, trying to escape without a weapon, or comms, or anything. He can’t stop thinking about how vulnerable you were, how close you came to being dead. Being gone. Like everyone else. Like his family. 

The feeling fills his body with ice. It paralyzes him before panic seizes his nervous system, pouring fear into every synapse flitting through his brain. 

His family. You could have been lost, like his family.

He barges through the door of the office, eyes wild behind the mask.

“I need her gone.” Price looks up at him, perplexed.

“Who?”

“Sass. Transfer her. Put her on leave. Anything.”

“What are you on about?”

“I can’t… I can’t have her here. She’s fuckin’ with my head.” His chest feels tight, like there’s a thousand pounds sitting on his ribcage. It’s terror that is pumping through his veins right now, unbridled, and raw, threatening to wreck him where he stands.

“Ghost, calm down.”

“I can’t!” It’s practically a shout. He’s losing it. The empty echo of the dead radio replays over and over in his head. The image of Johnny, bleeding out, slumped against your small frame, the panic on your face, the two of you covered in blood loops repeatedly every time he closes his eyes. It melts into the memories of finding his family dead and then twists together, over and over until he thinks he might be hallucinating. 

“Tell me what’s going on.” Price is standing now, voice calm, gesturing to the other chair. He’s not a loose cannon, not anymore, but it’s been a long time since he’s raised his voice at the captain. Guilt swells inside him.

“I’m fuckin’ her.” He paces in front of Price’s desk. “And it’s… She’s messing me up. Can’t think clearly.”

“You’re what now?”

“I’ve never… I’ve never asked you for anything-”

“Simon-“

“and I know this is unfair. She’s great at her job, Price I know that. But I have the seniority. And I need ya to do this for me.”

“I can’t just dismiss her. I brought her here, asked her myself.” He grits his teeth.

“Price…  she….” His lungs are screaming now, his breath coming in short gasps but there’s no oxygen in this room. “It’s not… I can’t. It’s not safe.” 

“Simon, sit down.” It’s an order, and he complies, slumping into the chair and cradling his head in his hands. “Now. Start from the beginning.”

“I know you’re disappointed.”

“You said I would be able to try.” You doctor is sitting on a chair at your bedside, across from Simon. She’s wearing a very serious expression, and you’re wearing your ‘don’t fuck with me face’, the one he’s seen time and time again, before and during ops. You open your mouth to argue with her again, but a contraction steals your breath, your nails sinking into his skin like tiny razorblades.

“Just breathe.” He soothes, stroking over the crown of your head until you fall back onto your pillow, tense lines of your forehead relaxing as your eyes close.

“If the placenta separates any further from the wall of the uterus during the rest of your labor, it could be life threatening for both you and the baby.” She doesn’t handle you with kid gloves, and you lift a lid to glare at her. He swallows the chuckle in his throat. Surefire way to catch a fist in the jaw. 

“Fine.”  The word is hissed through clenched teeth, and she pats your hand reassuringly.

“They’ll be some paperwork to sign, and then we’ll get you prepped. Nothing to eat or drink in the last six hours, right?”

“I’ve been in labor for the last seven and a half hours, so no.” you deadpan, before looking longingly over to your bag of snacks. The doctor glances at him with a gentle smile.

“Mr. Riley, you’ll need to change, we can… hopefully, provide you with scrubs that fit. We’ll also give you a surgical mask, and a cap. Sound good?” He nods in thanks as she leaves, and he turns back to you, pulling the mask down to his chin to rest his cheek against your palm. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“You’re not gonna pass out in there, right?”

“Me?”

“Well, they are going to pull my guts out.” What?  You giggle, just a little, and heave a sigh. “But seriously. Don’t faint. I don’t think they have gurneys big enough for you.”

“I’ve seen plenty of guts, Sass.”

“Yeah…but not mine.”

Price announces his presence with a knock. “Heli’s almost here.” Simon says nothing. His elbows dig into his knees, fingers rolling the elastic band between his thumb and forefinger, strands of your hair wrapping around and around the tie until they become tight, little strings that make indentations. “Ghost.” He knows what Price wants. What he wants to hear. He still says nothing. “I did this for you against my better judgement.” Price says, like he doesn’t already know. When Simon looks at him, he sees the weight of their decision. The shame. The guilt. And he feels it, too. “You should say goodbye, Simon.” 

His voice is rough, on the verge of a scream, or something worse when he finally speaks. 

“I can’t.”

“So, when you get in the room, you’ll notice she’s lying on a table, and there’s a drape that’s a visual barrier between her chest and the rest of her body.” The nurse, the super friendly one that you said you liked, is talking him through what’s happening while he walks down the hallway next to her. Her shoes squeak a little bit against the linoleum, and he focuses on the pattern of the sound. Step squeak, step squeak, step- “Now, she can’t feel anything, but C-sections can be nerve-wracking, and she got a little anxious when we got into the OR.” He nods. Of course you’re nervous. You’re strapped to a table where they’re about to cut a hole in your abdomen. “She’s asked for you a few times, I promised I’d deliver.” She gives him a wink and pushes open a door. “Here he is!” She calls cheerily, and you turn to look, eyes finding his within a second, like always.

“Simon.” You wiggle your fingers towards him, and he wastes no time, sitting in the chair that the nurse pointed to and bringing your hand to the mask, right where his lips are.

“Hi sweet girl. You alright?” You nod.

“I think I’m a little high.”

“She had just a bit of midazolam, for the nerves.” Your doctor says from the other side of the drape.

“That’s alright.” He smoothes some hair from your face and tries to remember to breathe. Everything about this room sets him on the edge, and there’s a live wire running through his bones, all the way down to where his hand holds yours. There are too many people, too many lights, machines, and his skin is crawling, the desire to snatch you from the table and disappear down the hall repeating in the back of his mind, again and again. He can’t stop thinking about what could go wrong, terrible scenarios that leave you dead or the baby dead, or both. They push and pull at the logical side of his brain, fighting to get through, desperate to derail him, insistent and-

You smile up at him, all sweet, a little daft from the drugs, and everything feels quiet again. The tension between his shoulder blades lets out like air from a balloon, fast and easy.

“You ready?” He thumbs at a tear escaping from the corner of your eye. You’re looking at him, looking beneath the mask, kicking and tearing past the pieces of Ghost until you strike true, until you reach Simon. You always do.

He pushes his forehead against yours, and breathes you in, the stench of sterile hospital and all.

“Yeah, Sass. I’m ready.”

He’s pulling the balaclava back over his face when you bust through the door and ram right into him. He recoils, the reaction second nature, and his eyes find yours in the little bathroom mirror immediately. You step away, the room stretching too big all the sudden, the distance between his body and yours too far, and his brain stumbles over the realization. Something stutters in his chest, his breath catching when he looks at you, watching as you flail before you look away. 

“Shit! Fuck. Sorry.” You glance at the wall, then the floor, then turn to run before he figures out how to make his mouth work. 

“You’re alright, Sass. I’m finished.” You’re standing half in the hall, half in the bathroom, bleeding, and something twists in his gut. Blood and injury are not uncommon in the 141, but he’s surprised at how unsettled he feels when he sees the trickle of red on your shoulder. 

“Get that cleaned up.” It comes out rough, like an order, and your throat bobs with a swallow.

“Okay a little bit of pressure and then you’re going to feel a lot of relief.” The doctor says and you nod, fingers pressed into his palm.

“Simon.” Your voice wavers.

“I’m right here. I got you.” He keeps his eyes trained on yours, willing himself to get lost in the hue of your irises, tuning out everything else in the room until-

A baby cries.

“Congratulations mom and dad!” Someone calls and the room spins. Mom and dad. 

“Can I see him?” your fingers are still entrenched in his, the words watery and light.

“Breath sounds are good.” A voice says, and then there’s a squalling baby next to him. A baby. Your baby. His. 

“Oh. Oh.” You’re in shock, he thinks. He’s not sure, because he might be too, and he blinks rapidly as you place a few fingers on the baby’s cheek. “Hi, Theo.” You coo and cry, smiling through the tears that dot your face. The nurse says something to you, and then she places the baby on your chest, where you cradle him with your other arm, pulling Simon’s hand up towards Theo’s back for support, holding it against his skin. You glance up at him for a second, teary happiness morphing into concern, and then back before your finger lifts from Theo’s cheek to his, swiping along his cheekbone. He presses your palm to his face with his free hand, over the mask, and closes his eyes for a second.

When you pull away, your fingers shimmer under the white lights of the operating room, and the tips of them shine with something wet.

His tears.

“I don’t see cabbage. What about romaine?” 

“No. It has to be cabbage. Or kale! But I really prefer cabbage, and so does your kid, you know. Romaine is totally different.” You babble, and he stares at the heads of green leafed things underneath the misters, eyes scanning for the label that says cabbage. 

“I don’t see any cabbage, Sass.” A woman who’s inspecting a shiny red pepper a few feet away from him looks over, curiously. 

“It’s a staple food, Si. It never sells out; it has to be there.” 

“It’s not.” 

“Ask someone.” Irritation is bleeding into your voice now, and the idea of approaching a store employee makes his skin itch. Maybe he can just buy the romaine and ask for forgiveness, or go to a different supermarket. It’s not quite midnight yet, something else could be open. 

The woman inspecting the peppers has sidled closer to him, close enough that he can see her face turned upwards towards his, eyes studying the balaclava before she clears her throat. 

“Excuse me?” He turns, eyes narrowed. 

“Who is that?” your voice rings through the speaker. “Is that a woman? Ask her where the cabbage is!” He pulls the phone away from his ear and blinks down at her. 

“The cabbage is up here.” She says politely, pointing to the top row of light green, rounded vegetables. Nearly in front of his face. 

“Thanks.” He says roughly, but she smiles at him all the same, while you call his name over and over on the phone. “I got it.” 

“Yes! Oh my god thank you.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Bloody lucky I love you.” 

The line is silent. His heart lurches, thundering into a frantic beat that thrums through his entire body. His limbs feel numb, and he doesn’t say anything else, just holds his breath. He can hear you breathing, just barely, through the phone, but it sounds like you’re trying to hold your breath, too. Like you’re listening for him. 

“Simon-“

“I still gotta get the potatoes. See you in a bit.” The line goes dead.

“Okay, sit here.” The nurse instructs and he forces his legs to move, makes his knees bend so he can lower himself in the chair. He can’t look away from what she’s holding in her arms, the infant, the baby that is his and yours. His kid. “Skin to skin is very important for newborns. It helps regulate their heartbeat and breathing and can help maintain their temperature.” She continues, motioning for him to relax against the backrest.

“Skin to skin?”

“Yes. You’ll need to take off your shirt.” He shakes his head. He can’t do this. You should be doing this. You’re his mother. He’s… he’s not you. Theo won’t want him, he’ll want you. He- “Mr. Riley? You don’t have to, but while we wait for her to get back, it’s a good opportunity for it.”

“What do I do?” The idea of holding Theo to his scarred chest makes him feel sick.

“Once you take off your shirt, I’ll put Theo in your arms and cover you both with a blanket.”

“I don’t think…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll show you how to hold him if that’s what you’re worried about.” Theo cries out, a sharp, shrill sound that draws her attention downwards before she looks back up at him with an expectant expression. Skin to skin is very important for newborns. He knows you would want him to do this. He knows that you would understand too, if it was too much, if he felt too exposed. But it’s important. Theo needs this. He needs… his dad. 

He pulls the scrub top over his head, careful to keep the mask in place, and leans back slowly against the chair.

“You’re going to support his head just like this-“ she moves him into the crook of his elbow, positioning his little legs and arms so that he’s laying flush against his chest. “and his body will just rest right here in this space… and there you go.” Simon doesn’t breathe. He doesn’t move, he can hardly think. He doesn’t even feel her place a blanket over his body, curling it beneath where he cradles the baby. All he can see is Theo in his arms, so tiny, his eyes scrunched shut and small hand curled into a fist.

The lights in the room go dim, and he looks up, realizing that the nurse is by the door. “I’m going to give you some privacy. They should be finishing up with mom soon but there’s a button right there, next to the bed. The red one. Press it if you need anything and one of us will be here right away. Okay?” She gives him another encouraging smile and he nods.

“Okay.” When the door clicks shut, he finally lets out the shakiest breath of his life and reaches up to pull the surgical mask from his face. Theo’s eyes aren’t open, but his chest rises and falls, soothing some of the fear that has a grip on his heart. He gently touches Theo’s hand, and his tiny fingers curl around Simon’s giant one. He gets lost, staring down at the small boy. Looking at every single feature, his ears, his nose, the bow of his lips. He tries to memorize it all, the way the tuft of his hair sits, the creases of his skin around his elbows and knees, the soft pant of his breath. It fills him with emotion, so much he’s afraid it might overwhelm him, bury him beneath its weight. He knows this feeling, has felt it grow inside him since the very first day he laid eyes on you. Has watched it fight through a forest of dark and snarled roots, cutting and biting away at the things that have died and festered inside him. He knows it better than he knows himself now, knows the truth, cannot deny this knowledge that he would lay down and die for you, for Theo. He understands the pure terror that has blazed within him since that day in Belize, and he knows that he would spend the rest of his life, waiting in agony with bated breath, just to kiss you once more, or hold his child in his arms.

It terrifies him, but he knows its name.  

He knows it’s love.

Simon leans down and brushes his lips across his son’s forehead, gentle and light, before murmuring to him as softly as he can manage.

“Hey, Theo. I’m your dad."

The next fic in this series is here.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #female reader #sassy series #simon riley #pregnant reader #simon riley x you #cod mw22 fanfiction #cod fanfic #tw pregnancy #peaches writes #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x female reader #dad Simon Riley

[tojisun]

was struck suddenly by this thought

okay biker!simon but he's got his shit together and he's hubby and you have a kid (2yo?) with him

in India, bikes are the primary mode of transport everyone has one and lots of the kids love love going on rides. my 2nd cousin (?) (relations are diff there) he's 2 years old and he's the cutest thing in the world and he will not sleep at night until his dad takes him out for a spin on the bike. he comes back all smiley and sleepy it's so fucking cute omfg

IMAGINE THAT WITH SIMON

( bikes aren't seen as dangerous in India bc literally every household has one and people will carry their babies on the bike. ik it's different elsewhere but I just cannot stop thinking ab simon going for a spin with his baby :((( )

love you, drink water sunny 👊

ur cousin not sleeping till he gets a ride is so cute omg :((( such a cutie pie 🥺

but no absolutely!! i feel like biker!simon would spoil his kids sm that they get demanding when he doesn’t get to take them out on a ride

thinking about your little two year old girl waiting patiently in the living room while her dad washes up (simon closed the shop today), with her little helmet already strapped in. the tv is on for reruns of cartoons but she’s distracted, squirming at every drop of sound, thinking it’s simon finally out of the shower.

you chuckle as you rub her back, trying to make her calm down, but you guess her exhaustion and excitement are finally mixing, making one whiny baby. you pitch forward to press a kiss on her little fist.

that, at least, makes her look at you.

“excited, little pea?” you ask, brushing your thumb on the apple of her cheek.

“mhmm!” she says before turning back to her cartoons.

what a blessing she is.

simon pops out of the corner just then, crooning, “ready to go, peanut?”

your daughter squeals, scrambling to get off the couch to run towards simon. simon laughs, crouching down and opening his arms to embrace her, but she’s barrelling into him too fast, unable to stop, and it knocks her helmet against his chin.

“jesus–”

“daddy, go!” is all what your daughter says, so impatient and spoiled, and simon just coos again, finding no fault in her little demands.

“of course, of course.” he stands up. “let’s say bye to mommy?”

you stand then too, moving close to them carefully. your beloved angel turns at hearing simon’s words, her pudgy cheeks now rounder with her smile. “buh-bye!”

“bye bye, darlin’,” you reply, kissing her little fist again. “have fun with daddy, yeah? tell him to ride carefully because he’s got my whole world with him.” this you say to simon, playful and teasing.

simon scrunches his nose in reply—fatherhood looks so beautiful in him.

“don’t worry, love. y’know i’ll do everything to keep her safe,” he murmurs, pressing close to breathe you in. “we’ll be home in twenty. see you then.”

you kiss his jaw. “see you then, baby.”

your little angel waves her goodbyes again before they disappear to the garage, simon’s quiet murmurs filling up the space while your daughter hums in replies, still not yet ready for much words.

simon hefts himself up and places her in front of him, making sure that her helmet is secured and her jacket’s all zipped up. it is a quiet routine, one that simon completes with ferocious intensity. he’s never once skipped out on this, never once had been lazy with it, and it makes your heart warm.

he looks up after his final check, turning to you with one last wave, before he’s snapping his visor down and revving the engine. then they’re off.

later, simon will come back with a slumbering princess in his arms. you two make a quiet work on removing her helmet and her shoes, before simon takes her to sleep. then, he’ll slide in beside you, pull you in for cuddles, before recounting their little adventure to you.

-

IM SORRY THIS BECAME A RAMBLE AND ITS NOT EVEN ABOUT THE BIKE RIDE BUT ITS JUST :((( dad simon is so so precious

love you too vi and yes im gulping down rn as i type!!

#violet <3 #ask #biker!simon #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #dad simon riley

[hecateslore]

Hello! Hello! Hello! I read your Papa Simon fics and I am nust thrilled and smitten by them. I don't know if you are taking requests but if you are then can I request for him supporting Nova in her school organization duties like if their org has a page on socmed then Simon would react or comment on it. Thank youuuu

hellooo bb!!! and thank you so much for the love 💗

*nova's like 15 here!

Papa!Simon absolutely hates the idea of social media, it's kinda of crazy the lengths he would go to make sure no one is posting personal information, or if anyone's account is public.

So when he finds out the school is posting Novalynn online without her parent's permission, he's having a blast :)

Your daughter was on her schools robotics team, and you were aware of them posting the schools progress, not that you knew what was happening half the time but you were supportive of your daughter.

Of course Nova has her Instagram, that's extremely private and that Simon makes sure to check every single follower to make sure it's his daughters friends and not some weirdo creep stalking his family, you know, regular parenting things! So when you bring up the group photo at dinner, all hell breaks loose.

"What group photo?" Simon cocks a brow, "It was for my school." your daughter says casually, stabbing at the potatoes on her plate, "You looked pretty," You smile, "Thanks," She mumbles stuffing her mouth, Simon sat at the other end next to the boys still extremely confused about the group picture. "Wait for a second.. how did you see the picture?" Simon questions you. "Instagram," You shrug, "Did they ask you?"

"Dad it's not that serious," Nova interrupts, "Hush." He shushes her and she rolls her eyes at him. "Uh no?" You say confused, "You should've," he says,"Simon it's not that deep," you chuckle, "it is, because she's fifteen."

"Bring me your phone." he demands "Why?" your daughter complains, "Just bring it to me." He says once more. "Here we go," You sigh, "I don't have pictures on my instagram." You're eldest son sighs, which comes out more sad than it should "Good. you don't need any." He affirms. You roll your eyes and turn and see you daughter waking down the steps with her bright orange phone in hand. "Show me,"

"Oh my god this is so stupid."

After dinner you sat in your home office, emailing the school's principal to get the picture taken down. "Mom this is so dumb," your daughter stands beside you watching draft up a very polite email.

"You want me doing this or your dad?" You raise a brow, She lets out a sigh, "Everyone's gonna think I'm weird." She complains, "No they won't." You try and assure her. "Yes they will," She drawls placing her forehead on your shoulder, You place a kiss the crown of her head, "Go eat some ice-cream." You pat her arm.

Nova walks out of the office passing by Simon, she makes sure to ignore him. "What a drama queen." He says approaching you. "Don't start." You say, finishing the email.

Simon watches you type and finish, "Go apologize to her," You say, He was about to start but you hold up a finger, "She already feels alienated enough, and you doing this, is making it worse." Simon lets out a sigh at your words. "Go." You scold.

Watching his tall frame begrudgingly walk out of the room exactly like his Daughter

#lunden’s response ❀— #papa!simon #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #dad simon riley #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n

[chaosandmarigolds]

Gm!!! Here’s a little dribble Drabble for yall

Retirement!Simon can only sleep in cold, blackout dark and quiet rooms, which wasn’t odd- he was a light sleeper so all of those things helped stay asleep

Retirement!Simon that as soon as you trip when you try to carefully find the bathroom in the darkness of the night was already tearing out the floor boards to install motion sensors lights

Retirement!Simon that thinks the tv is a waste of money and space, so he keeps it in the garage

Retirement!Simon who, guess what, he’s dinosaur train and Bluey with his three year old on his lap religiously every morning

Retirement!Simon that wakes up early as the sun to go workout, turning on the lights to wake himself up

Retirement!Simon who thinks it’s a stupid notion that he would ever willingly get out of bed before you, and if he does he’s sure to give you about seven thousand kisses before he does

Retirement!Simon that hates kids, hates them, thinks they gross and silmey and uh why can’t they just grow up already?

Retirement!Simon who almost cried on your son’s fourth birthday- because how dare he get so big??

#simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost imagine #cod x you #cod x reader #simon riley fanfic #simon riley imagine #ghost call of duty #call of duty mw3 #ghost x reader #ghost fanfiction #simon x reader #simon riley fluff #cod fluff #simon ghost fluff #dad simon riley #coco’s chaos <3 #simon riley x female reader #x female!reader #coco’s pre k universe! <3

[divine-draws]

i love the thought of simon making his own masks so here's some si doing some crafts for his kids (little skelly beanies and "daddy dolls" of himself for when he's deployed)

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #dad simon ghost riley #dad simon riley #cod #digital #fanart #divine draws

[crystlizabeth]

simon’s definitely the type of dad to yell “you’re in or out!” at his kids and to “stop letting all the cold air out” at them when they’re running in and out of the house while playing

UGH!! I’ve been out for a while BUT YESSS HE SO IS so the point I know he locks the screen door as his girls ask him to let them in.

Them begging to be let as Simon is making dinner the mrs next to him giggling as he keep saying no bc if the come in they’re taking showers and getting ready for bed

UGH I COULD GONON AND ON ABOUT Simon THISNIS such a Daryl thing to omg!

#Cryst Yapping!! #x black reader #black fem reader #black reader #ghost cod #ghost x black reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #daryl dixon twd #daryl x you #daryl imagines #dad simon riley #dad Daryl Dixon

[blood-grove]

odd adjustments

here -> part 2

adoptive!soap and ghost + adopted!reader

× pairing: soapghost

× summary: the now retired couple decides that there house is feeling a bit empty besides there two cats and german shepard.

× tws: medication, mentions of ptsd, angst, minor injuries, (idk what the adoption process is like so were just jumping into it) <- more relevant for the second part but still here for a tw :3

It was raining outside again,

You were busy packing up your clothes though along with Miss Sullivan who was just redoing your messy folding which you appreciated she was rambling on about some old story about her own kids all grown up and gone.

"This is a very big move for you y'know hun?"

"Yeah- I um know."

"There a very lovely couple y'know—"

"I know! I-" You paused shifting a bit as you sorted threw your sketchbooks.

"I know Miss Sullivan."

She sighed as she smiled her eyes crinkling as she turned to you.

"This is going to be a great home for you..There good people! I saw how you got along with them so well"

"Mhm-"

"Oh dear I just- I'm just so happy for you.." She sniffled as she tugged you into a crushing hug which you just mumbled your thanks.

You felt nauseous as you zipped up your bag but mentally decided throwing up in your future forever caretakers home would make it ever so harder to try and act like a normal kid around them.

Which you were also failing at.

But they didn't look normal either, Not in a offensive way at all.

They were a strange couple very warm and welcoming though when they met you the shorter one his name was John? You think he was really trying his hardest not to overstep and you liked that compared to other people who had very much been too much for you.

The other guy? Simon, You couldn't help but think the man looked intimidating but cool the both of you didn't talk much when they were letting each of them have one and one time with you but when you did talk it was nice it was clear he was more of a listener than a talker.

The both of them were nice, You found out they were ex-military but not much else it was briefly brought up and they moved onto the pets they had at home two cats one named Old man the other Gunpowder which you thought was a choice.

They also had a dog named Riley you forgot the breed she was but it was clear Simon seemed excited? nervous? You couldn't really read the man well at all not to say he was emotionless but he was just very hard to understand.

Your getting lost in your own thoughts again, You sighed as you pulled along your suitcase the wheel squeaking as you pulled it along you've had it for so long your surprised it hasn't fallen off.

Shifting uncomfortably you walked towards the main entrance Miss Sullivan walking beside you you were so zoned out you didn't even notice. When you made it to the lobby it was just Simon in the waiting room you which you were confused but they were adults and both probably had jobs you figured well paying ones you guessed from how quick the interview between them and Miss Sullivan went she clearly thought these men where the best option for you.

He noticed you both as he got up slipping his phone back into his pocket, He always seemed to wear a black face mask you guessed he had some kind of condition maybe a germaphobe? Would be weird to get a kid if that's the case maybe its not servere.

"Ohh I'm going miss you honey—" Before you could even slip away she was already pulling you into her infamous bear hugs nearly crushing the air out of you as she placed a kiss on your forehead thankfully not leaving a bright red kiss mark there.

"I-I'll miss you too Miss Sullivan-" You quietly gasped as she finally stopped hugging you and you took that que as to go over to Simon before she pulled you into another one.

"You have a a umbrella?"

You shook your head as you shifted you weren't technically lying the raggedy old one that you kept purely for memory now probably would fall apart if you tried to open it.

He hummed as he just pulled out a small fitting umbrella from his pocket handing it over as he sad something to Miss Sullivan you were paying attention as you figure out how to open the umbrella before Simon started walking back picking up with uncanny ease.

"You ready?"

"Mhm."

The ride to your new house was quiet Simon wasn't talkative along asking if you were alright and shortly explaining why John wasn't here something about getting your room ready and making a special lunch which you thought was a bit much but who were you to say no to free food?.

a/n; this will just have two parts :3

#cod #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soap cod #ghost cod #soapghost #child reader #platonic relationships #platonic love #familial love #fanfic #reader #gn reader #no use of y/n #silly family #dad simon riley #dad john soap mactavish

[bts5sosempire]

A/n: A thought occurred to me after a video I saw. I got brain-rotted with this. 🫠 the rendering goes to no one but the absolute and amazing @ave661 ❤️

Imagine Simon with his little girl, who was approaching a year old soon... Well, not soon; that was still four months away, but he thought of this ridiculous idea when he saw countless videos of babies gravitating to one specific item on their birthday. So he, himself, needs some form of entertainment from his daughter, who never failed to make his heart turn to mush and got him wrapped around her little fingers. Simon places his tiny princess on the floor, rummaging through her toy box for items.

When Simon came back, he sat in front of his curious little girl, who tilted her head at her father before bursting into a blubbering mess of spits and giggles, which drew out a soft smile from the man's lip. Seeing how her eyes crinkle at the corners, Simon laid the items on the floor for her.

A hammer: architecture or judge.

A children's book: teacher or whatever means to further education.

A stethoscope: a doctor.

A animal: veterinarian.

There was more, but it would take forever, so he opted for those toys.

With all the items laid out, he coaxed his little girl, "C'mon, pick one, love." Patiently waiting for the girl to pick out one of the items, she had her chin tucked under her neck and focused on all the items with her brows pinched together. There is so much attitude in such a tiny body. She glances up at Simon before looking at the items again, before slowly crawling towards them.

Simon watches as she gets closer to the items until she stops in front of them, and with a swipe of her stubby arms, she pushes all the items away and crawls towards him. "Dada." The one word she utters, and she chooses Simon above all else and clings to him. For Simon, he wasn't one to be emotional; he cried at the birth of his daughter, now again because of her. He wraps his arms around her tiny body and quietly cries when smiling down at his little girl, who blinks and smiles at him innocently, seeing those teeth of hers poking out from her gums.

Gosh, how much he loves his daughter.

He didn't know he was a choice for her, his little sweet girl, until today.

A/n: not proofread or anything merp.

#cod #cod mw3 #cod modern warfare #cod fluff #cod simon riley #cod ghost #cod simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #call of duty #dad simon riley

[tfmerc]

okay what abt like a Simon and foster! kid reader? I'm currently writing one but I haven't seen a tone of people write abt this b4. Just curious

The idea of Fosterdad!Simon is so sweet :(

Just know he parades that kid around, showing them off to all the boys

read bellow cut :3

Simon let out a soft huff, sluggishly raising his hand towards his eyes; pinching softly at the bridge of his nose. He shifted slightly, lashes fluttering as he took in his surroundings. The plush of the couch, sunrise creeping through the closed blinds.

A heavy grunt passed his lips, kicking his feet over the edge of the couch. Bracing himself with his thighs, before he finally made his way to his feet; a string of cracking joints caused him to groan quietly. Slowly stumbling his way from the couch, he made his way towards your room; peering in through the ajar door.

He couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across his lips, each rise and fall of your chest brought him great comfort. A living, breathing reminder that this was real. The fighting, suffering and loss was all worth it.

Simon slowly creeped into the room, footsteps light as a feather as makes his way towards your sleeping form; brows frowning softly. He sat down at the end of your bed, a tentative hand reaching to brush the stray strands of your hair away from your face. Watching with gentle eyes as you scrunched your nose and turned away from the ticklish touch.

You were perfect. Anything and everything you did was like that of an angel in your old man’s eyes.

#simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #foster dad simon riley #dad simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost fluff #simon riley fluff #simon ghost x you #foster parent ghost

[bluelizard100]

I see a lot of post about girl dad Simon, but the daughter is always so young.

Could you imagine girl dad Simon but with a teenager?

I feel like he’d be sure of himself, since he knows about PMS & menstruation and has no problem talking about it or buying hygiene products, but when he learns the whirlwind of emotions extends past her period? Bro was gobsmacked.

It’s not her fault, and he knows that, but I bet he’d stand there like 🧍 after experiencing his teen’s first fit of hormonal rage.

He’d be confused, like “what did I do?” (he was in the kitchen at the same time she was)

He definitely finds himself missing when she was little and it felt like she actually liked him.

But one day when he hears her crying in her room, overwhelmed by all the new changes and feelings she’s experiencing, he sits down with her and wraps his arms around her.

He tells her it’ll be okay, that he’ll always be there for her, and things will get easier with time. He sits with her and comforts her long after the tears have stopped.

Poor simon will be so lost for a while— he doesn’t remember his own puberty being this bad (but then again his childhood was so fucked his brain probably blocked out most of it) but he’ll try his best for her <3

#cod #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #dad simon riley #girl dad simon riley #but his daughter is a teenager