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midnightcrw · 7 months

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Fight

Pairing: Ghost x Reader, Price x Reader, Soap x Reader, Gaz x Reader

Summary: Your child gets in trouble

a/n: This one is a little different from my usual ones, but I just felt like writing for all four of them. I'm not sure how accurate you'll all find them as I've deliberately exaggerated them, but I do believe that Gaz is a sassy man after seeing how he didn't want to shake Graves' hand. I've also named the children of the TF141, I hope that's okay with you all.

Scenario:

The moment you both heard that your child got in trouble, the first thing you two did was rush into the principal's office in fear that something happened.

And now you were both sitting in the principal's office with your child, while another child was there with his parents.

Ghost:

Your eyes widened as you heard the principal say that Daisy and another girl in her class had gotten into a physical fight.

"There was also something your daughter said that is completely unacceptable," Mr. Smith said, looking disappointed at Daisy, even though the girl apparently started the fight and your daughter was just defending herself.

"It wasn't even that bad..." Daisy muttered underneath her breath as she crossed her arms.

Simon was very quiet, but his stoic expression spoke for itself.

"Daisy, I want you to quote what you said," Mr. Smith continued, not wanting to hear another word from her unless she quoted exactly what she said to the girl.

Your daughter looked at you, a pleading look on her face but you just shook your head at her in disappointment, wanting to hear what she said.

She sighed and quoted what she had said before, "You have a face that only a mother could love."

Without missing a single beat, Simon started wheezing in his seat the moment he heard his daughter's insult to the girl.

You glared at him, "Simon!"

Trying to calm down, he put his palm on his mouth as he continued, completely ignoring the angry looks of the principal and the other family.

"Mr. Riley, I want you to calm down. This is highly inappropriate," Mr. Smith said as Simon calmed down.

A few seconds of silence passed between you all before your beloved husband opened his mouth.

"Did you win?"

"Simon!?"

Price:

It felt like hours as the girl's parents and the girl herself ranted and raved about the fact that your daughter Sophie punched her.

At first you had both been shocked, completely angry at your daughter until the parents opened their mouths to speak.

You almost fell asleep listening to the mother go on and on about how her daughter's nose was bleeding because of Sophie.

Price, on the other hand, sat still in his seat, listening to the whole thing, not having said a word since he walked into the principal's office.

"Your daughter should be suspended!" The father said, glaring at Sophie.

Mr. Smith didn't even get a single chance to say anything, as they continued.

Slowly, Price seemed to lose his patience and turned his head towards you and your daughter.

He whispered, "Punch her harder next time."

"What?" The principal asks.

"Nothing."

Price says as Sophie giggles at her dad.

You tried to stifle your grin by putting a hand over your mouth, just hoping that the parents would shut up soon.

Soap:

Your son sat between the two of you, his nose bleeding and his face bruised as he frowned at the boy and his parents.

You were extremely worried as you put a hand on your son, Callum's arm, and quietly asked him if he was hurt anywhere else.

Callum just shook his head, not wanting to speak while Soap was already getting bored listening to all of the talking the principal was doing.

"It doesn't matter if he started insulting him because Callum was the one who got violent," Mr. Smith said as you tried to defend your son.

The boy obviously looked much worse than Callum. His hair was disheveled and his face was bruised. His nose was also bleeding, as was his lower lip.

It looked like your son had done some damage.

"What exactly did he do?" Soap asked, wanting to know exactly how Callum had hit the boy.

As Mr. Smith explained what your son had done, Soap's eyes lit up and a smile appeared on his face.

"I'm so proud of you, you used the punch I taught you," Soap said, extremely pleased that Callum had listened and actually used the things he had taught him.

Callum grinned at his dad's antics as you put your face in your hands, sighing and muttering "Why did I marry this idiot..."

Gaz:

You were shocked to hear what your son, Ethan, had done to the boy.

Mr. Smith was obviously upset and angry that Ethan had acted so childishly, and immediately got into a physical fight the moment the boy wouldn't stop insulting him.

You felt the headache already pounding in your head as you rubbed your temple, completely out of it.

Ethan didn't really say anything, he just listened to everything that was said.

The boy's parents glared at the three of you, never once looking away.

The boy that insulted your son, looked angry, obviously still being pissed at the fact that Ethan punched him, even though he himself started with the insults.

Gaz was not even shocked, sitting there with his hand holding up his head up as he looked extremely uninterested in the principal's endless speech.

Rolling his eyes, Gaz moved closer to you and Ethan as he whispered.

"Did you break any of his bones?"

"No."

"Good, because I'm not paying anything in this economy."

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peachesofteal · 16 days

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Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby trope Simon Riley / female reader

You’re startled.

He can tell just by the way your eyes pinch at the corners, your shoulders high and tight beneath your ears. You’re flustered, you’re stressed, rubbing small circles on the baby’s back, playing with the hem of the their hat.

Your discomfort, the unease radiating from your frame, combined with the saw blade currently buzzing through his brain, nearly makes him dizzy.

Still, even in this moment, you leave him breathless. He feels the same itch, the same swell of emotion as he looks at you, drinking every single detail in like a starved man.

He tries, and tries to make the connection.

I didn’t know how to contact you.

What does that mean?

It feels monumental, feels like there’s a black hole opening in his stomach, sucking his heart out into the universe to be obliterated.

It’s just there on the cusp, teetering on the edge.

I didn’t know how to contact you.

“I’m uh,” the baby’s tiny arm flings out a little fist towards your chest, and slide your finger into their grip, smoothing your thumb across, what he imagines, is very soft skin. “Do you have a minute?”

He nods wordlessly.

The cafe is quiet.

Simon can’t see the baby’s face. They have your complexion, your hair… but he doesn’t know what they look like. Not really. He doesn’t even know if they’re a boy or a girl.

He doesn’t know anything, and inside this out of control situation, he yearns for it. The plan. The knowledge, the ability to plot and counter plot the next move.

This… instability, this lingering question in the air-

fills him with fear.

An earl grey sits in front of you, spiraled steam curling in the air across the table, where you’re rocking a little bit, side to side, swaying like a sailor.

You worry your lip between your teeth. "I know this is kind of... a shock." He blinks. "I tried to find you, I scoured social media, I went back to the to the pub and asked if anyone knew you, I had them look through all their credit receipts from that night, but... everything was a dead end. It was like you were a ghost." His lips twitch.

"Why?" He thinks he knows, thinks he understands now, but he needs to hear you say it, needs to watch your lips form the words. You stare down at the table before taking a long, deep breath, placing your hand protectively against the back of the baby's head.

"This is your son, Simon."

And there it is.

He's a dad. There's a tiny life, a tiny piece of him, in this world now.

He's a father. A father, to a son, just like his brother was. A father, to a son, like his own father was, and his father before that. A vicious, endless cycle. One his brother vowed to break, and did.

One that terrifies Simon now.

The first words out of his mouth are unintentional, and cruel. "Are you sure?" He winces as soon as it splays out in the silence, and you wilt into a shade of embarrassment.

"I uh, yeah. I'm sure. The pill isn't foolproof and we weren't exactly... careful. I... um... there's no one else." You grimace, averting your eyes, and his stomach clenches.

"I didn't mean-"

"It's fine." You wave it off, keeping him at arms length. You keep your gaze down, and he curses himself. Making a mess of it already.

He's very good at compartmentalizing. It comes with the job, always has, but in this moment, he's struggling to stopgap the flow of consciousness that seems to be melding together by the minute. Worry, panic, fear all roar at the forefront, but beneath them, buried by mountains of darkness- shines something unexpected.

Happiness. Hope.

A baby.

Something possessive thrums inside him, beats in the veins of his heart. It's reverent, identical to way he felt the first night he met you, the night the two of you made him. Together.

You had his baby. You did. The girl who was everything. The sweet girl who took him like you were made for him.

No matter what happens, no matter where you go, he'll always be the man who gave you a baby. Who gave you his son.

It's sick, how pleased he feels. How satisfied. Something long buried in the genetics of human beings, now rearing its head inside his own.

You were everything, and now- you always will be.

His throat is suddenly very tight, nose stinging with effort to allay his emotions. "What's his name?"

"Orion." You smile, timidly, but tears shine in your eyes. "I really like stars. I used to tell him all about the constellations when I was pregnant. I call him Ry for short." Orion.

"I like it." He tells you gently, and you smile again, more confident.

"I'm glad." He studies you. You're beautiful, possibly even more so now, but there's a thread of exhaustion pulling across your face, like you haven't slept in a year.

A new realization settles in his bones like a chill, and his stomach pitches. He thinks he might sick.

You said there's been no one else, so you've been alone? Did you do this on your own? Do you have family, friends? Anyone to help you?

He's no fool. He watched Beth go through it all, struggle through it all, even when she had support.

And he was the asshole that walked out of your life that morning, not caring for the consequences. Not caring for you.

He missed it. He missed all of it.

"I'm sorry I left that morning without... saying anything. I'm sorry I wasn't here. I'd take it back if I could." Your lips part in surprise, and then you nod.

"I- thank you." The baby fusses, tiny cry sounding from your chest, and you fidget with the carrier, pulling him free. "Do you want to hold him?"

Orion fits against his chest perfectly. It's like he was always meant to be there, nestled on top of his forearm, staring up at his dad. Simon is painfully and hyper aware of the little activity in the cafe, the people coming and going, but it does nothing to stop the tears that wet his cheeks.

"You're a natural." You whisper from your new seat next to him, hand smoothing over the back of the baby's head. "I knew he had your eyes, I remembered them so clearly. When he was born, it felt like I was looking into them all over again."

There are a million things he needs to say, to explain, and a million questions he needs to ask. Already the clock is ticking down to the time that he'll need to report on base. Already, the curtain is closing on this tiny piece of heaven he's found himself inside. He needs to tell you, have a frank conversation with you about his job, his life, everything.

But when he looks down at Orion, slowly falling asleep in his arms, and then looks up at you, he decides everything can wait.

The world looks different now, and he's never been more grateful-

and terrified.

#peaches writes #through me (the flood) anthology #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader

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outoftheseine · 2 months

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- SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY FIC RECS 2 -

my big, broody husband | note: this is COD so there are some trigger warnings like: blood, guns, injuries, military stuff, death so please beware of them. there also also 18+ content so minors DNI. don't forget to read the authors' warnings | more will be added!

part one | main masterlist

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

yes, lieutenant • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @sinkovia (very very angsty, violence, smut)

forcedhusband!simon x reader

↳ by @suimon (sooo much fluff, comfort, slow burn, mutual pining, lots of bantering)

unexpected | part two • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @dammn-dean (pregnant!reader, angst, comfort, fluff)

the roommate • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world (angst, fluff, smut, kidnapping, simon here made my heart so fuzzy)

please love me | part two • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @rowarn (angst, smut, comfort, tw’s like depression, sa and suicide)

actions have consequences | part two • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!civilian!spouse!reader

↳ by @mrweh (heavy angst, mean!simon)

office romance • supervisor!simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @hecateslore

you had his baby and he didn’t know | part two • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @sgrplumditz

ghost distribution system | part two | part three • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @katz-chow

ONE-SHOTS - BLURBS - HC’S

his heart, his light, his world • dad!simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @thexsilentxwordsmith (so so fluffy)

no judgement • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @blingblong55 (so so so fluffy, dad!simon)

consequences • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @sinkovia (very angsty, tw: miscarriage)

a place to be weak • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

↳ by @cherryredstars (fluff, little angsty)

superficial wounds, deep devotion • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @tacticaldiary (fluff)

tormented by a ghost • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @shotmrmiller (mean!simon, little explicit)

lights • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @babygirl-riley (dad!simon fluff, angst, childhood trauma)

sunshine • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

↳ by @sgtcosmo (fluff)

whispers and words • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @dammn-dean (angst, slightly suggestive, happy ending)

secret haven • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @lightwing-s (fluff, secret relationship)

gentle love • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @floatingfireflies (fluff)

his girls • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @casiia (dad!simon, domestic!simon, fluff, slight angst)

migraines • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

↳ by @mockerycrow (fluff, physical hurt/comfort)

family ties • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @lundenloves (angst, dad!simon but not a cute dad ahaha)

longing • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @yawnderu (fluff)

hold it together while the world is on fire • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @unreliablesnake (major character death, grief, angst, tw: drug abuse)

is it too soon? • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @unreliablesnake (fluff, simon is whipped, grief)

in another life • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @suimon (very angsty, hurt but no comfort)

over his shoulder • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @imperihoe-writes (tooth rotting fluff)

sweet dreams, my love • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @qtboni (so fluffy)

the sacrifice • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

↳ by @bravo4iscool (medic!reader, fluff, angst but happy ending)

wrong words • simon ‘ghost’ riley x 141!reader

↳ by @milf-murdock (hurt/comfort)

being chosen… by a baby • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!single mom!reader

↳ by @southernbluebellereader (fluff)

big guy • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

↳ by @kivino (fluff, jealous!simon)

gentle giant • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @asph6lt (fluff, soft!simon)

girl dad • dad!simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @thexsilentxwordsmith (very fluffy)

home invasion • neighbour!simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

↳ by @oceantornadoo (hurt/comfort, violence, fluff)

everything’s gonna be okay • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @pearlofthesirens (hurt/comfort)

meet the family • simon ‘ghost’ riley x civilian!reader

↳ by @sim0nril3y (angst, comfort, family issues)

oh muse, tell me of the things done by golden aphrodite • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @sprout-fics (smut, greek mythology au)

late night embrace • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @mondaysoct (fluff, slightly explicit)

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yawnderu · 7 months

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Perfect Life — Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Mom!Reader

The first night the baby is home, Simon is so elated, mind racing 100 miles per hour. He glances at you and the sleeping baby between both of you, afraid he would crush her in his sleep despite knowing he sleeps like a rock.

What if this time is different? What if he has a nightmare and accidentally hurts either of you? What if someone breaks in? He doesn't have nightmares as often anymore, sleeping with you helps keep them at bay and you both have a fancy security system, yet he'd never forgive himself if anything goes wrong... so he does what he does best; be a guard dog for his girls.

"I love you." He whispers to both of you, laying on his side and looking at you both as if he was examining you in a lab, your breathing pattern he memorized years ago is still the same, and now he's memorizing the one of the little girl in front of him, carving it in his brain just in case if anything is wrong, he'll be able to tell.

It's been almost two hours and Simon isn't sleeping, staying up late and having a bad sleeping pattern became a part of him after so many years serving yet this time he isn't watching an enemy or a facility they're targeting, no, he's watching something much more important. He's watching his wife cuddle the baby in her sleep, her touch delicate yet protective, just as he imagined it would be ever since he found out you were pregnant.

He moves carefully around the bed, hand grabbing his phone and turning the brightness all the way down. Simon looks at you again just to make sure you're asleep before unlocking his secure folder, the corners of his mouth tilting up when he sees the contents of the folder.

It's full of pictures and videos of you, starting back in the day the 141 was formed, until you were heavily pregnant. The latest picture was of all three of you, holding the newborn in the hospital room, happy smiles on both of your faces and pure pride in his eyes. A small chuckle escapes him when he remembers how the nurse he approached seemed scared of him until he asked if she could take a picture of him and his girls, looking around one more time to make sure you were still asleep despite being able to hear your soft snores.

I'm so proud of you. His lips curled up into a soft smile, eyes starting to sting as they did every single time he remembers how far you've come. You look so different from the first time he met you—in fact, you both do, yet you're as beautiful as ever; fresh out of the hospital, no makeup, messy hair, and a peaceful look on your sleeping face while you hold the baby.

Thank you so much. In the quietness of his room and in bed with his two girls, Simon allows the tears to escape his eyes for the first time in years. I didn't even know I could cry anymore.

He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead and does the same for his little girl before laying back down, an arm protectively wrapped around your waist and over the baby, setting a safe distance between him and his little girl in fear of crushing her in his sleep. With one final look at his pride and joy he drifts off to sleep, his behemoth frame used as a protective shield for both of you in case something happens. Deep inside, he knows you're all safe.

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 30 days

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https://twitter.com/sluttywh0r3/status/1738661113154220340?t=VYLoAeMTbPq_UQ-a7lMuVA&s=19

You were both so horny but you just ran out of your birth control and didn't have any condoms so Simon said he'd pull out only to have you riding him and refusing to get off of him and begging him to cum inside you

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

READ IT HERE

9-1-1, yes hello? There is an attempted murder in progress. Yes, it is on my sanity, thank you.

Seriously, you guys are trying to kill me, right? Because there is no way in hell I am supposed to read that and stay sane. I'm gonna have to take a minute just to get through the rest of this post after the flood of images that just entered by brain.

But damn if it ain't a pretty scenario to think about. I am mean come on, just thinking about you and Simon being so fucking out of your minds horny for each other that you are willing to risk everything is hot as hell. Just him heavy breathing in your ear, telling you how good he wants to make you feel, the vibration from his voice making your clit throb as his lips leave trails of tingles along the side of your neck from the warmth of his lips.

Just the feeling of you under his fingertips has him panting as he tries to shove his hands in your pants, in your shirt, or both if he's lucky. He needs to make you come, it's the only thing he cares about in that moment; he needs to know that he has the power to make you fall apart and it consumes him until it is agony.

Probably wouldn't even make it to the god damn bed before he is ripping off your clothes as fast as those thick fingers can get into them and then immediately throwing your legs on his shoulders and thrusting inside you the second he can; he'd just drag you onto the floor with him and spread your thighs wide. That massive, virile man isn't going be able to create anything more than a few coherent words before it's all grunts like an animal in heat.

"We'll be careful. Com' on, sweetheart...Mmmm fuck... swear I'll fuckin' pull out. Just need ta be inside ya."

(I can feel the flames licking at me right now just for thinking about this lol).

Then you end up on top and Simon is on cloud fucking nine watching you completely lose your mind at how good it feels that the minute you start begging him to come inside you, that promise he made to you about pulling out flies out the fucking window without a second thought. You pleading with him to fill you up is going to awaken that feral part of his brain that he will not be able to control and it's gonna be all over.

"Christ, can't say no to ya ever, pretty girl. Ya want it inside ya, that's what your gonna fuckin' get."

He'd be so out of it, high off the feeling of you riding him into oblivion that he will not even fight you on it. He isn't even going to hesitate to keep going all the way until you both are a whole god damn mess and you are leaking his cum. Shit he'd make sure you got everything you want by keeping your hips locked together with his tight grip as he begins to slam up into you harder and harder, loudly grunting from the strain through that point of no return. The risk would be 100% worth it at that point.

And you'd be so gone with his cock shoved so far in you that your brain cannot even create a single thought other than to come on it. So what if this hot as hell romp leads to an oopsie; he'd make a great dad, right?

Don't worry, he's thinking the same thing and he's fine with it.

"Jus' don't fuckin' stop."

Give me a bit to write this all out cause I really really REALLY need this to be a full fledged fic.

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nsharks · 5 months

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bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part seventeen —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 2.3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

Ghost wasn't bluffing about the rain.

The next two days are spent with a punching bag under a neverending drizzle. Well, a duffle bag filled to the brim with who-knows-what, hanging from a tree as your skin smacks into it repeatedly and wet hair sticks to your neck. According to Ghost, you hit about as hard as Blue does, and there's no point in sparring until that changes.

He demonstrates before finding a comfortable tree to lean against and watch. The first few tries feel awkward until he reminds you to hold your stance. Once you dig your feet firmer into the mud, you start to catch on. You try to copy his movements. Knees, hands, elbows, feet. The rain soaks through the gauze on your hands, bunching it up, and the bag stings your unprotected fingers so much that your pinky starts to spasm.

You are struggling to hold the canister of water without wincing when Ghost appears behind you, grips your wrist, and says, "Why didn't you say anything?"

You pull away and tuck your hand to your breast. "It's not that bad."

His eyes sweep over the length of you before subtly narrowing. "You're bleeding. You should have said something."

When you glance at your fingers, you realize that he's right— the skin is split and oozing, but the rain waters the blood down to a light shade of pink. "Sorry, I guess. I didn't notice."

A callused finger reaches over to brush your knuckles before flipping your hand over, palm up, and tapping the heel of it. "Hit here from now on. It's less soft."

"Noted. Thanks."

Blue warms a bucket of water and soaks your hands that night. You listen to the sound of rain drumming against the plywood as you pray for it to stop by the morning, but of course, there's no one listening to you up there in the clouds because, by the time Ghost gets you up again, it's only gotten worse. Mist shrouds your ankles and the trees crackle and moan. He takes you back to the clearing and you know you won't be dealing with the duffle bag today.

"Let's see what you've learned."

He shucks off his jacket and you do the same despite the brisk temperature. Left in his shirt and sweatpants, the sheer size of him appears even more daunting. The black fabric soon becomes wet and sticks to his well-defined muscles, resembling a second skin. Ghost inclines his head and looks at you expectantly. Your heart races but you meet his stare, breathing deeply.

This time it's you who lunges first.

A swift kick to his ribs shoots the familiar burst of adrenaline through your veins.

The flicker of confidence makes you greedy and you try it again, but he wrenches your ankle away and twists you into submission, pulling you flush to his chest.

His breath hits your neck and warmth, not rain, prickles the skin. "She didn't hesitate. Good. But moves like that leave your stance vulnerable."

With a shove, you are released, and then he wipes the floor with you. Again. Everything turns into a blur of movement. The ground squelches beneath you. You try to focus more on offense, but the rain clumping your lashes and the way he darts so quickly makes that near impossible. Frustration builds in your chest the longer you two go at it. It is as if the past few days have done little to nothing.

A bruising blow to your stomach almost makes you slip, but he catches you by the sleeve and draws you close, leaving you face-to-face. His eyes burn a trail over your forehead down to your nose and lips as you pant heavily, then snap back up to yours.

"What happened to your confidence? Where is the girl who kneed my dick?"

You swallow and blink hard as you meet his thick gaze. "She's trying... but she's wet and can hardly see."

"Better than being dead." You place your hand atop his callused one and try to pry it off, but his grip tightens. "Stop holding back again."

Tension holds your teeth together. "Just because I wasn't a military sergeant like you doesn't mean I'm holding back."

"Lieutenant."

"What?"

"I was a lieutenant, not a sergeant."

"Does that change my point?"

His brow quirks and his hand drops. "You have quite the attitude when you're not scared of me."

The stinging air turns your cheeks pink. "I was never scared of you."

"Blue's next lesson should be teaching you to lie better.”

Something about his tone causes a twinge in your chest. You back up and ready your fists. "Oh... Is she good at that?"

He stalks you with slow steps that scuff over the mud. "Pretty good at it. Though, she forgets who her old man is sometimes."

"What do you mean?"

"You think I didn't notice?"

Your mouth runs dry. Unspoken truths hang in the air; the antiseptic, the food she snuck. "I don't know what you're talking about."

His eyes roll to the side. "Relax. I would've killed you the moment I noticed if I wanted to."

"Why didn't you, then?"

A glint of—something—passes through his eyes. "Perhaps I thought you could be useful. Turns out I was right. Now—" He changes the subject. "Don't hold back or you can enjoy the shed tonight."

All the color drains from your face. "What? You... you can't do that."

"Why not?"

Your voice sharpens. "Because you made a fucking promise to me, Ghost. You said you keep your word."

His broad shoulders give a lazy shrug. "I do, but you thrive when you feel threatened. Thought you could use the motivation."

Anger curls your lips. "That doesn't mean you can just—"

Mud. Mud everywhere. Freezing, sticky mud cushions your fall as he hits you without warning. You gasp. A flash of a memory shoots through your spine; the way he pushed you to the ground that first time you met. The crack of your bow. The helplessness.

You ignore the ache as you push yourself to wobbling feet. It as if every hit from him makes itself known. Your anger deepens and you launch at him without thought, snarling. Your ankles hook around his torso as you grab hold of his wet shirt and cling to his back. One of your arms clamps over his neck and squeezes while the other blindly scratches at any piece of him you can find; his collarbones, the bridge of his nose, his scalp.

A few heartbeats pound before he throws you back into the mud. This time, he joins you. Salty sweat and the taste of coppery soil brush the seam of your mouth as you wrestle beneath him. It turns messy, your hair tangling with knots and pine needles, but you don't have it in you to care. You spit in his face and dig the heel of your boot into his back, riding up his shirt.

"Ah. There she is." His voice is rougher and only the slightest bit winded.

The fight you give is silenced when he pins your hips down with his and grabs one of your wrists. The other you quickly slip under your back, out of reach. Again, he has you pinned, and that pisses you off even more.

"Fuck you," you snap breathlessly. "Get off of me."

"Bold choice of words to say to your landlord."

The rain seems to fade into the background and all you can see—feel—is him. It should terrify you, the pressure of his body, but your mouth opens again on its own accord. "Bold choice getting me into this position again. I guess you don't want any more kids."

A sharp exhale leaves his nose and you think it might be his version of a laugh. "Thanks for reminding me." He brackets your knees with his, rendering them immobile. "Now what?"

Now what. The mix of adrenaline and anger rushes between your ears and that thing you've relied on to survive for so long—instinct—decides for you. Your free hand scoops mud and smashes it into his eyes, stealing his vision. The time it takes for him to wipe it away gives you a shot at his face and you take it without abandon, slamming your hand hard into his nose. You can practically hear the crack. Blood blooms through the white of his mask.

Your irises unfurl. "Shit. Ghost. I—"

He sits up and you scramble away on your butt. Like a tide, your emotions wash away and leave your face flushed. When he peels the balaclava over his nose, a trail of blood trickles down his lips and chin. He pinches the tip and flicks a clot of it to the ground.

"Is it— Did it break?"

He touches the bridge. "Minor."

"I'm..."

The uncontrollable shaking returns to your hands, snapping his gaze to them. "Did they open up?"

Confused, you glance at the red skin across your knuckles before shaking your head. "No. I... I used the heel. Like you said."

"Good." A grumble of thunder brings his eyes to the sky before he stands up, mask still hiked over the bloody lower half of his face. He offers you a hand. "Smart use of the environment. Think we're done here."

It takes a long moment before you place your hand in his. The energy has swept through your body, leaving you numb, and there are no more sharp words left to share. With the grey sky, it is impossible to tell the time, but you figure it must still be early morning because Blue is not awake by the time you and Ghost return.

He is equally as filthy as you. Dark earth cakes the entirety of his body. He swipes his boots outside and you wordlessly do the same before following him into the quiet cabin. Everything is still except for your heart. It struggles to find a normal pace again.

"Let me look at it," you offer quietly.

He doesn't object, taking a seat at the table. The only evidence that the physical activity has affected him is the uptick in heat that rolls off his body. You move clinically to stand between his knees and ignore the awkward feeling that settles in the silence. You feel strange after getting so worked up. Like you don't know how to act. If you were confused around him before, you are more so now, so you focus on what you do understand— that his nose is most definitely broken.

For the first time, it is you looking down at him.

"I'm going to touch it."

You will the trembling in your hands to stop and brush a fingertip along the bridge. His nose is strong. So is his jaw. An old scar indents the left of his mouth, deeper than the one on your brow. This isn't the first time you've seen part of his face— he does, in fact, have human needs like food and water—but the first time you've touched it. His skin is as warm as you remember. The tender swell in the bridge of his nose makes his eyes close for a moment.

"How's it feel?"

He throws your words back at you. "Just peachy."

"Right. Um, have you broken it before?"

"Of course."

"I'm sorry," you finally say, but he seems far from interested in your apology.

"Don't be. I said not to worry about hurting me."

"I know, but that doesn't mean I enjoy doing it."

"Liar." He calls you out in a soft murmur. "It felt good, didn't it?"

It... did. Possibly even cathartic. The release of emotions is not something you allow often, but hitting Ghost in the face mimicked the exertion of chopping wood only tenfold. Carefully, you nod. "A bit."

"More than a bit."

"Fine," you concede breathily. You avoid his eyes and look over at the wall. "It felt really good." There is a pause before you look at his nose again, clearing your throat. "It's minor enough to just let heal, right?"

His brows lower. "I thought you were the nurse here."

"Nursing student," you remind him, teeth grazing your lip. "I don't remember getting to this lecture."

"Fucking hell." He inhales deeply through his mouth, lowering the fabric back down, before saying, "Just go bathe, Twix."

"What about you?"

"I'll go after."

You nod but linger for a moment in his presence. "Ghost." Your fingers curl at your sides. "Don't ever do that again. Don't ever threaten me with something I have earned."

Making a demand of him is so utterly foreign to you that the words taste strange. The whites of his eyes slide up to yours and something you don't recognize passes through them. "Duly noted." His brows lift. "Don't hold back again."

You exhale. "I won't."

It is at this moment you notice the appearance of Blue in the hallway, still dressed in an oversized shirt that acts as her pajamas. She looks between the two of you, rubbing her eyes, before narrowing them and pointing an accusatory finger. "I told you guys to tell me when things got more interesting."

You repel from between his knees like a magnet, facing her.

"It wasn't that interesting. Don't worry."

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #fanfiction #zombie apocolypse au

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onestopfanficshop · 9 months

Text

parenthood hcs (141 + los vaqueros + könig x f!reader)

tbh i feel like this sucks but like... i've been working on it too long to scrap it lol 💀 i might come back and add more as my brain starts to solidify again so if you read it and come back to more stuff just pretend you don't see it. so uh... enjoy the hot mess under the cut i guess

ghost/simon riley

during the pregnancy/delivery

—the reality of you being pregnant didn’t really sink in until after you started showing. that’s when he was like oh shit this is actually real this is actually happening

—if he was a light sleeper before (which i’m absolutely sure he was), he’s practically awake with his eyes closed at night now. very sensitive to every single movement you make, whether it’s you slightly shifting in your sleep or you getting up to use the bathroom. can’t really “fall asleep” until he’s absolutely sure that you are.

—has the most horrific nightmares of all the things that could go wrong with you and the baby, and he always feels so guilty afterwards, as if he was somehow willing those things to happen. he never told you about them until years later either

—likes to whisper to the baby when he thinks you’re asleep and can’t hear (except you can, and it nearly brings you to tears)

—was anxious to let you leave the house, insisting on getting all the groceries and whatever else you needed so you wouldn't have to go outside

—is paying attention to and remembers all of the important medical info that the doctor tells you two at your maternity appointments, especially when pregnancy brain is getting the best of you

—simon can't remember the last time he's cried in his adult life, but when he gets to hold your baby for the first time and they latch their tiny little fingers onto his larger one, he certainly does.

random parenting moments

—mans can hear the baby crying before the baby is even crying. being a light sleeper + having incredible hearing is a goated combo. he'll race into the nursery and try to take care of whatever the issue is to avoid waking you up at all costs

—absolute hell to fucking no to the hot diggity dog no when it comes to corporal punishment. no ands, ifs, or buts. (for the record, i don't think any of these men would do this, but simon especially, given his past). and it'll be a freezing cold day in hell before simon raises his voice at your kids; he simply doesn't see the need to

—gives his kids washable markers and lets them color in his tattoos

—shooting my girl dad blaster at this man because i can. (*pew pew*) he's the best tea party attendant in the history of tea party attendants. doesn't matter that he can barely even fit one thigh on the tiny chairs at his daughters' kiddie princess table–he'll make it work!

—i can definitely see him having sons too, which i know would be really bittersweet for him. he's determined to be a better father than the one that life afforded him. seeing that brotherly bond between his sons would be really therapeutic for him :(

—very surprised that his kids find funny, mostly because he's got that dry sarcastic deadpan humor, as opposed to the slapstick-type humor that most kids at that age gravitate towards. he's certainly not complaining, though; he loves making them laugh. he swears his kids' laughter is one of the best sounds in the world.

soap/johnny mctavish

during the pregnancy/delivery

—honestly is surprised at himself for deciding to settle down (finally). he knew he wanted a family eventually but he wasn't expecting it to happen so soon. he certainly isn't complaining though, because he thinks you'd be an amazing mother

—is constantly talking to your belly, even before the obgyn said that your baby had formed their ears. very determined for your kid to have his accent so he’s talking to them 24/7 lmfao

—and he definitely believes that the baby can communicate back 😭

—"okay, if you're a boy, what'd you think of this name? kick twice for yes."

—gives the absolute best foot rubs. would literally put a trained masseuse to shame

—so ecstatic when he finally gets his kid in his arms. he finally gets to see the little human that he's been talking to for the past several months; literally a dream come true

random parenting moments

—does the thing where he falls asleep on his back with the baby lying on his stomach

—his kids' first words will probably be curse words, no thanks to johnny 💀

—i'm picturing three kids: two boys (possibly twins; idk he just seems like a twin dad. it makes sense in my head, okay?)

—very relaxed parenting style, with an emphasis on letting his kids "fail" on their own and learning from their mistakes. relaxed shouldn't be confused with permissive, though, because he will definitely put his foot down and be more assertive if need be

—always down to play video games with his kids

—finds it absolutely hilarious to kiss you in front of the kids because they all make the most exaggerated sounds of disgust

—teaches your kids how to swim, which eventually leads to them convincing him to put a pool in the house (it took a lot of convincing but johnny just can't say no to them)

—has his own designated "dad" chair in the living room and gets disgruntled if he sees someone else sitting there. but one time he came back to one of the kids curled up in his chair late at night, fast asleep. he couldn't bring himself to wake them up so he just covered them in a blanket

gaz/kyle garrick

during the pregnancy/delivery

—lowkey has a stronger nesting instinct than you lol 💀 constantly is cleaning the house not only for you, but because it makes him feel calm

—always willing to hold your belly for a few minutes (or however long you need) to relieve you of the weight of carrying a whole human inside of you for a while

—also adores talking to the baby through your stomach, and loves putting headphones on your belly to play them music

—down to try your craving combos with you. sometimes he like “this is incredible" and other times he's like "what is this monstrosity" lol

—when you guys were putting together the nursery you discovered that ky has an impeccable eye for interior design. most of the unique pieces of furniture and paintings in the nursery were picked out by him

—has the biggest smile on his face once he gets to hold his kid for the first time. like his face hurts thats how hard he's smiling

random parenting moments

—literally doesn't want to put that baby down. like at all 💀 you practically have to beg him to give you your daughter so you can at least feed her

"just let me hold her for 5 more minutes!"

"kyle, your daughter is going to starve if you don't give her to me!"

—i'm thinking two kids for kyle is the perfect number to him; gender doesn't matter to him :)

—tries to keep up with pop culture so he won't be called old by his kids (and fails)

—always down to game with his kids

—has a really hard time saying no to them 😭 if you weren't there to keep him in check, your kids would be so spoiled

—LOVESSS halloween. taking his kids costume shopping and taking them trick-or-treating is one of the highlights of his year. and he's always down to customize a costume, too. anything from buying a bunch of different pieces to make one look or sanding down some plastic armor and painting it to look weathered—he's so unbelievably creative

john price

during the pregnancy/delivery

—collects sooo many books for the baby. especially loves the soft cloth books that have all of the different crinkly textures

—absolutely cherishes that first trimester where you’re not really showing and he gets to keep the two of you to himself and away from the rest of the world

—"sternly" tells the baby to stop kicking their mum (aka you lol)

—always has a protective arm around you while you two are out and about. was absolutely shocked by how many strangers would try and reach out and touch your stomach unprovoked once you started to pop. most of them were women, so the most he’d do was give them a hard look. still hated it though 🙄

—helps you make a checklist for your hospital bag + packs everything for you with military-like efficiency

—so so gentle when he holds his baby for the first time. he was never sure if he would get the chance to even be a father so it's quite emotional for him

random parenting moments

—your babies will have the largest vocabularies ever thanks to john, who refuses to use baby speak with his kids. instead, he speaks normally, as if the baby can understand him perfectly, and the results are pretty amusing

"love, did you move the almond butter?" john calls to you from downstairs.

"i swear i didn't!" you call back from upstairs, busy with your morning routine.

"hmph." he plants his hands on his hips, turning around, only to be met by the blinking stare of your infant daughter.

"darling, did you see your mother move the jar of almond butter?" he asks her, arms crossing over his chest.

*cue unintelligible-to-others-but-perfectly-understandable-to-john infant noises from the baby*

"bloody knew it. love, our daughter is saying you moved it. and she doesn't know how to lie yet, so i have no reason not to believe her."

—this man is so girl dad coded it's insane. but i'd like to think he'd have one son; he'd possibly be the middle or youngest kid

—you and the kids love to play "hide the bucket hat" from dad. price puts on his grumpy old man act but he secretly loves it because it always ends up with him chasing you guys until you all collapse in a laughing heap on the carpet

—constantly dropping bad dad jokes like he's paid to do it 😭 kids are always looking at him with a mixture of pity, disappointment, and mild annoyance

"dad, i'm hungry."

"why hello, hungry. my name's dad."

"no, your name is john.

"...how do you know that 😐"

alejandro vargas

during the pregnancy/delivery

—always showing you off to LITERALLY everyone, especially his family

—always finds a way to bring up the fact that your pregnant in every single conversation with a stranger lololol

—if you're the first one in ale's family to be pregnant (which you very well may be because i headcanon him as the oldest child in his family heehee) prepare to be spoiled by his siblings and the rest of his family. you have enough gifted clothes for your kid to wear an entirely different outfit every day for a year i'm not even kidding

—very protective, but not in a controlling concerning way. it’s more so seeing you visibly pregnant with a ring that he put on your finger that gets him all riled up

—was driving like an actual mad man to get you to the hospital when you woke him up in the middle of the night and told him your water broke (and by "driving like a mad man", i mean he forgot to use his blinkers and ran one singualr stop sign lmfao)

—first time he got to hold his baby it was absolutely love at first sight. gives you the most tender kiss on the forehead to say "thank you"

random parenting moments

—if you have all girls he is SUCH a girl dad. i think out of all the boys, he's the one that i can say would 100% have all daughters. he's playing princesses, doing hair for school, letting the girls experiment with makeup on him, all the works.

—and he absolutely doesn't let those "oh you're trapped in a house with all of those girls poor you!" comments slide. like at all.

—"not trapped, just lucky." he always says (before glaring at the person once they turn around)

—tries so hard not to curse in front of his girls but fails 💀 swear jar is always full

—the idea that your girls can do and be anything they want is drilled in from day one. naturally, this means that ale is the biggest sports dad EVER. he's at every recital, every game, every showcase, every scrimmage– you name it, he's there if he can make it. whenever he can't be there, he's always doing two mandatory facetimes; a pep talk before the game, and a debrief after

—one non-negotiable? self-defense. signed up each of his girls for self defense classes when they each started middle school

—not overprotective by any means. i mean, he can definitely be protective at times, but he knows his girls can handle themselves (you two raised them, after all).

—takes saving for their quinces as seriously as saving for their college funds (as he should)

—secretly a huge disney fan. he's watching all the disney princess movies, pretending like he's doing it for his daughters, but he's really doing it for himself hehe. still whisper-yells everytime he watches snow white eat the poison apple 💀

roldofo “rudy” parra

during the pregnancy/delivery

—is literally the most gentle person with you ever and it’s so sweet :(( always willing to massage out any knots you have in your shoulders or neck

—does all your pregnancy exercises with you (even though he’s not the one delivering the baby lol) just so you won’t feel alone :)

—always down to cook whatever cravings you desire (or run out to the nearest grocery store or gas station to get them)

—he's already a pretty touchy person but it's amplified times 10 during your pregnancy. he can't keeps his hands off of you, especially your stomach

—his abuela is always on back, asking you if he's taking good care of you and scolding him if she's sees you so much as lifting a plate by yourself 💀

—when your baby was born, he was quite sensitive to the noises of the hospital, getting fussy and crying a bit whenever he heard doors closing and loud beeps and such. you noticed however, that when rudy was holding him whenever this happened, he never shushed him to keep him quiet. he would simply rock your son back and forth, whispering quietly to him about whatever was on his mind until the newborn would calm down. just witnessing this alone solidified the fact that you'd basically picked the perfect man to be the father of your children.

random parenting moments

—carries his kids everywhere when they're young, even when they can walk. he just loves holding them :(

—incredibly rational, even in the face of conflict. when your kids get to be teenagers and get into typical teenage trouble and whatnot, he sits down with you first to break down what happened and what an appropriate response would be. not a fan of reacting on emotion (which teenagers can make very tempting to do) , which is always appreciated by both you and the kids

—i think he'd have the biggest family out of all the boys; i'm thinking 4 at the very least, with more girls than boys

—takes birthday party planning seriously, even when they're little and won't remember it all

—lovesss cooking with his babies. he gets ‘em those little kiddie knives that are safe to use and teaches them the proper technique and everything

—very frantic whenever one of them gets sick. even if it’s the mildest headache or a slight upset stomach, he just hates seeing any of them in pain

—drop-off duty warrior. has a whole system in place to get all the kids into the car on time and he’s literally never been late. it’s honestly very impressive

—vicks vapor rub is the solution to everything. sore throat? vapor rub. headache? vapor rub. bad day? vapor rub. broken leg? vapor rub (jk) (not really)

könig

during the pregnancy/delivery

—if you have mood swings, könig has to try his absolute hardest not to panic right along with you. he knows that your hormones are giving you a hard time right now, so he really wants to be your rock through all of it (however, if you start crying out of nowhere, he'll probably definitely start panicking)

—once you start showing, he likes talking to the baby in german to "give them a head start" (his words not mine)

—also good luck with that delivery babes because that's gonna be a 10 pounder at LEAST 😭 high probability you're getting a c-section

—if there's any complications, especially with a c-section, best believe any shred of social anxiety is disappearing and he's running on pure adrenaline when he yells at tells the medical staff in the room that he refuses to watch you and his child die here

—was so thankful you two were both okay that his hands were shaking a little when he cut the umbilical cord

—holds his kid like they're made of glass because he's so big that he fears hurting them :(

random parenting moments

—when the kids finally get to the toddler stage, he's pumped. they can run now, and he absolutely loves chasing them. also the kids love to treat their dad like a tree, climbing him and dangling off his arms like he's a human swing, which has given you a mild heart attack more than once 😭

—loves reading to them every night before bed

—i’m thinking two kids for him; either a boy and a girl or two girls

—big fan of doing doing arts and crafts with them (your house is constantly covered in scraps of construction paper)

—also loves taking the kids to a local fairground where they can go on a bunch of rides, pet some animals at the petting zoo, and play games. könig is usually too tall to ride the rides comfortably (rip), but he doesn't mind. as long as the kids are having fun, that's all that matters to him!

—yearly trips to visit his mom and grandma in austria are an absolute must

—kids are always clinging to him during the colder months because he just radiates heat

—his homemade remedy: soup! the kids absolutely love the different soups that he makes and it always seems to make them feel better whenever they're under the weather :)

#könig x reader #john price x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #simon riley x reader #soap mctavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #rudy parra x reader #cod headcanons #onestopfanficshop

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fawnpires · 1 year

Text

AMORAL SILHOUETTES — SIMON "GHOST" RILEY.

༉‧₊˚ ┊ PART 2.

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ synopsis: infatuations with older men were morally wrong, but never applying to him.

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ contents: afab!reader, manhandling, breeding kink, pet-names, praise kink, oral sex (female receiving), size difference, creampies, reader is in her 20's, ghost is a single dad, touch-starved, domesticity, squirting.

You've seen him around the neighborhood before — towering in height, bulging biceps, and a skull balaclava sheltering the structure of whatever laid under, the structure of his concealed face. It was a known fact that you bear an attraction to him, but you just couldn't own up to it, feeling a little too shamed to be conscious about a little school-girl crush on a man much older than you. A man who was a hard-working, ex-military, single father who paid no attention to girls in the same line that you found yourself in — but was it hard not to steal a view glances whenever he was seen around the neighborhood whether it was for a few minutes or seconds despite his lack of ability to communicate with others, though it was obvious he chose not to be around others for a good waste of his time excluding his children.

So when he came strolling up the slope of your driveway and a gloved fist beating at your front door, you had thought you were in another one of your trances — molded daydreams of him; minor fantasies of Simon Riley in that same balaclava giving you all of his affection, kissing you, treating you as if you were his pretty wife — a life that you could never make a single complaint about.

Ghost — his more preferred name used on other's tongues — stands eerily underneath the giving-out light of your porch, with nothing but a set of dusky eyes and a whole lot of muscle beneath the puny fabric of a black v-neck. You, stand on the opposite side of the door and impassively stare, nonetheless avoiding the eye contact when he gapes at you for longer than intended.

"I'm assuming you're the daughter." he said, reserved, dull.

"Sure am, did you need something?"

He clears his throat. "Well, this might be a strange thing to ask — and a bit sudden," He brought his hands to tuck in his pockets. "But would you mind looking after my kids for a while? I'll pay you for every hour, just a couple days of the week."

His offer was the last thing on the brink of your mind when he happened to show up, asking you for a favor — being in his house, where he lived, with his presence ghosting around. It sounded creepy. A bit stalker-ish to think of it like that — but you played it off as an innocent favor he asks of his neighbor, just a few hours of your day taken off to go kid-watching for the man who you admired the most.

"A couple days of the week?" You repeat his words back to him.

"I'm certain."

"I mean, sure, I'll take the offer, but when do you want me to start?"

"Tomorrow. Tomorrow evening is fine, around six."

You bit your lip. "Got it. Have a good-night, Mr. Riley."

"Knew I could rely on you, thanks, doll."

A single wave was managed. No verbal good-bye, just a wave from the hand that was freed from the confines of his pocket — and a pet-name taken straight to the pinpoint of your heart. You watch as he turns his back and finds himself across the street to where he coincidentally had lived — watching as he outstretched his arms and embraced a young girl with no emotion that had intentionally been shown to the public. Doll. It was unknown if his label for you was something he did purposely or had just slipped from his masked lips.

Either way, it made you feel like cherished like never before, his doll.

The day in which Ghost's favor was asked of you passed by quickly into the day the favor was actually supposed to be performed, straight at six, right in the center of where the sky was going through modifications of warmth to a bitter cold. Much like him with more anxiousness residing in your chest, you were across the street and bound to his porch, a dress shrouding your figure up to the bottoms of your thighs. Dressing and dolling yourself up made you look like you were going more on a night-out rather than a baby-sitting shift. Unintentional was the word for it. Unintentional to be all formal when in the same proximity. You half-recover from your birthing nervousness and thump on the door gently.

"Mr. Riley, it's me." you blatantly said, the door still closed.

With your words blurted out the door seemed to open on command — aggressively, as if it were going to be discharged from the hinges. Rather than a giant of a man in the doorframe there stood a girl half the size of it, lightly-shaded blonde hair up in pigtails with a cherubic face, staring right up at you as she titled her head. Honestly, you weren't good with children, but kindness was fundamental as of that. You give her a forced smile pressed up into the corners of your mouth as if held at gunpoint, whispering a small greeting and a wave. How maternal of you.

From further into the house came footsteps, blaring footsteps, and the little girl was no longer stood two feet on the surface of the ground but lifted into her father's arms with a brief giggle. You weren't going to stand here and be blamed a liar if that didn't advance an adoration for him in the moment.

"Thank you so much for coming and apologies, it's my fault for letting you in late," he said. "Make yourself at home."

"Don't worry about it." you reassure.

Ghost's house was clean and neutral, but gave off a decent interior of a past lieutenant's home well. There were a few toys littered around, a locked exhibition cabinet of ex-military trinkets, piled-up envelopes, and one other silhouette of a little girl bearing similarities to the one in his arms. Nothing in his house gave off a girlish ambience, besides two daughters, but it was masculine; like an adequate, suburban variety of a old-fashioned farmhouse with rifles and deer heads on display replaced with military collections.

There was a microscopic chance of danger with a bunch of firearms and artillery gear laying around but as someone as wise as himself, of course he kept a lock on it. Chain, even, if he wanted to get that far into territory.

"Bedtime's at eight, food is already ordered, and you have the entire house to yourself past the eight-o-clock mark." Ghost said. He provided you with a spare key, his bared fingers brushing against yours as he placed it in the middle of your hand. "So you have plenty of time to, you know, relax."

"When will you be home?"

"Around ten, but wait up on me — I'll give your pay up before you leave."

"So I stay until ten?"

"Sure do."

"You can trust me, for sure."

"I know I do." he said.

His eyes trail over you for a minute longer before bending his knees and and allowing his daughter to be freed from his grasp, legs straightening up again as he pat your shoulder. "Thanks, kid, I'll see you later."

All of these nicknames were blurted from his mouth like nothing — first it was doll, now kid, and it just left you anticipated for what he would grant you next with. That though stuck to your mind like a nail screwed by a hammer, watching as he took his jacket and folded it in his arms, swearing that he gave you one last glance before he unlatched the door and shut it behind him — leaving you to bathe in the first touch he acted on you, his effortless terms of endearment, and the two resembling daughters he relied to be cared of.

Spiraling. You had to be spiraling.

Your hours spent with the children were calm. They had warmed up to you pretty fast and had dragged you nearly to every spot of their home. Up the stairs where their shared bedroom stood at the hall, a couple of bathrooms downstairs, a storage closet, the showcase of weaponry, and even Ghost's bedroom. They declared his room was some kind of secretive hideout, only being in there a limited amount of times, but urging you to take them in there along you. It was going to be difficult to get out of the pressuring so, having your own fun, you let them explore around his room — like you were a cool older sister, or mother, to them.

The title "Mother" exclaimed from one of the girls, ultimately leading into them repeatedly a series of them calling you variations of mom, mommy, mother, throughout the night instead of the name you had given them to call you. You weren't extremely irritated with it, you actually found it slightly adorable considering that they didn't even have a mother and latched onto you as some sort of female parent never obtained, nonetheless it was practically harmless and brought no harm down on you.

Baking cookies, some sort of role-playing they convinced you to star in, doing their hair in all sorts of girly ribbons and accessories almost made you feel like you were a little girl again — it had drained them out pretty easily but gave them a sense of girlhood, giving no offense to Ghost. A vision crossed your mind, eventually spearing your mind, that you were the real mother to these girls. A female figure to look up to and issue them a full family with a packed set of two parents. It had been drilled to you the other half of the the night, you kept a close eye on them as they had gotten ready for bed and prepared themselves under the covers.

With a deportation of reading a shabby bedtime story and a few ruffles to both of their heads, you finally had his home to yourself. Anything you wanted to do was accessible, easy-to-do, but with no danger of waking up the girls. Exhaustion was present, though, with all of your lone ideas to-do in mind you ended up on the couch. Your head tilted in one palm as you legs crossed under the skirt of your dress, the illuminations of late-night talk shows on television glowing your face in shades of dissimilar hues.

Staying up and waiting for Ghost to walk right through the front door was starting to become a challenge. Blaming his daughters for putting you in a state of pure fatigue was never the right thing to do, although it was easy to admit. Your eyelids were heavy with one more glance at the clock, which read a quarter to nine, meaning that this night could come to its finale and you could see that face of his — physically, up-close, like you did three hours ago.

As you were right at your breaking point into a slumber the doorknob trembling and echoing into the room where you were buzzed you awake. Stretching over the arm of the sofa and sloping your head to where the door was visible, knob had stopped with the commotion, the door silently opening a crack before blew open. To your relief and satisfaction it's the man who've you longed for the entire day, like a depressed stay-at-home housewife. His jacket is thrown on a nearby table as he could only stare at your laid figure over the couch, eyes squinting.

"Welcome home."

"Appreciate it. Are the girls upstairs?" Ghost asked with a finger pointing to the floor above.

"All knocked out."

"Jesus, what did all of you do?"

"Just a little girl-fun, that's all, baking — stuff like that." you said with a no-teeth grin.

"I could only thank you again for that," he sighs and pulls out a couple dollar bills stuffed in the jean of his pocket. "You don't have any idea how hard it is to get those two asleep."

"Really? They're like little angels, they loved me."

"I bet they did," he said while setting your pay on the coffee table. "Here, an entire hundred stack."

"Hundred?"

"You deserve it, do you not?"

"I'm only a part-time babysitter, Mr. Riley, not a full time worker."

"Yes, but you're a good girl, are you not? Going through all the trouble to make time for me and my kids — so I can assure you this is my pay for you, think of it as a prize."

"God, well, thank you." you said, processing his terms of good girl, heat rising to your face. "You really love those girls, don't you?"

"They're my pride and soul." he said while taking a seat next to your half-laid body, dipping the cushion of the couch. "I only want the best for them, that's why I chose you to look after them."

"Me, why?"

"It's difficult to explain, and a bit strange but — you've always reminded me of my past wife, kind and loved her kids, soft spot even for the people she didn't really know."

"I didn't know I could resemble someone so much." you said, mouth going dry.

Ghost laughs. "Yeah, she was quite beautiful too, like you."

"Was that a compliment?"

"Why wouldn't it be? Hell, love, you've got the looks any man you could fall for.

His hand comes to gently rest on your thigh and you look up at him through droopy eyelids, this didn't feel real. This couldn't be real, right? It couldn't be proved as false when his calloused fingers started rubbing tender circles into your skin, eyes of his own half-lidded and crinkling around with the tar-like paint staining skin. You and him were playing a dangerous game, pent-up tension right in here in his living room, a man by all means older and more mature than you've ever been — it was so easy to give into him so fast.

"You like that, huh?" he keeps his voice low and continues the strokes on your thigh. "You ever been touched like this, dollface?"

"No, sir."

"Mm. I liked the way you called me sir, honey. Come here, sit-up."

You balance yourself on twitching elbows and Ghost moves in between your thighs, his body weight heavy compared to your smaller physique as he lifts the cloth-edge of his balaclava for you, revealing a light stubble peppering the anatomy of his face and somewhat coarse lips that pressed up against yours. Your hands hoist to caress his face, kneading into his sinking cheekbones with each move to intensify the kiss. His pink muscle of a tongue forces your lips open and laps at every crevice of your mouth — your arms linking around his head, his fingers once at your thighs now under your skirt and massaging in circular motions at your fabric-clothed cunt. Small whimpers of shame leak into the kiss, evolving into moans, his massaging enhancing with every finished motion.

Ecstasy ran through your veins, pulsing with adrenaline and contentment. Your legs are fragile, trembling, alongside your cunt flourishing a moistness in its fiber confinement. The man of your daydreams no longer is just a fragment of your delusional head, but right where you've longed for him to be, taking and compelling you to be obedient for him. Only him, always him.

The ministrations on your veiled cunt withdraws and drags a moan from the depths of your throat. One of his hands instead crawl underneath your pushed-together legs and the other supports your back. You dive into his lips with a hunger once more and he manhandles you so delicately despite the tough behavior, you're drunk on the taste of Ghost as he works through the house up the stairs, through the hallway, and brings you into his room where you once stood earlier — the click of the lock confirms your status, you're safe as long as you're with him.

His hands pressing into the flesh of your body is loosened up as he lays you gently on the mattress as if you were created of porcelain — which did have some sense in it bearing in mind that you, essentially, were his doll of a girl by his own words. Defines of his eyes stream your body up and down, towering over you in height, yourself much more reduced and small. Fingers assist you with stripping your dress, leaving you in an arrangement of panties and bra complimenting every curve and bow of your figure. He curses mutely under his breath, huge palms cupping and kneading at your breasts, his knees resting on the bed.

Your whimpers are more pristine and clear to his naked ear. Looking through your languid-like eyes, a bulge is positioned right at his jeans, and his shirt had been ripped off of him — possibly during the time where your eyes had been closed to immerse in his touch.

"Such pretty tits, love." He said with a grunt. A deep guttural grunt.

"They're all for you, mister, always have been."

"Not mister, not even Ghost — Simon to you, and it's going to be Simon when I'm pounding into this tight little cunt of yours."

His words add on to the wet arousal staining your panties, swearing a second heartbeat could be felt, a throbbing and senseless feeling.

"You like this pair?" Ghost asks, nudging at your panties.

"Not important." you reply through short, cut breaths.

With your consent, he takes both of his hands, ripping the fabric in half. A gasp delivers from your open mouth — both at the cold air's impact on your exposed entrance and the material ripping apart. He has a look in his eyes that resembles a feral animal, one that is undomesticated and always in a repetitive state of hunger. Ghost backs you up to lay against his pillows to allow more space for him to climb on the mattress with you. He wastes no time with leaning himself down and hooking your bare legs in a hold around both arms, resting right at his broad shoulders. Those same eyes of hunger peer up at you with the bottom half still exposed from the bruising make-out session.

You feel a mushy lick bumping at your clit, causing your back to arch to the ceiling with a high-pitched moan, who knew such a motion could make you so submissive in a short span of time. The palm of your hand is instantly cupped around your mouth like a guard as Ghost continued his ministrations on your lips — no longer kitten licks but long, dragged out ones that had your eyes rolling into the back of your skull and struggling to muffle such sexual noises deprived from your mouth for the sake of his daughters fast-asleep down the hall.

"You taste like heaven," he grunts. "You're such an angel, making those sweet noises all for a guy like me."

"Only you, fuck, you feel so good." you whined, fisting the bedsheets at your sides.

"That's my girl."

The slant of his nose stimulates your clit while he proceeds with his longer, stroking tongue advances reaching deep inside your cunt. Your surroundings are heated with an addition of pure wetness, sweat, and mess clogging your brain up. His tongue provides you with a pleasure even your own fingers couldn't drive out of you, drool pools at a corner of your mouth while his grip on your legs hardens, strokes of his tongue becoming more aggressive — driving you quicker over an edge, your stomach in knots and oversensitivity. Your vision starts to blur out once you realize you can't control the sounds that he forces out of you, his tongue again and again savoring you as if you were his last meal on death row — he was desperate and willing to lap up your juices staining his face and your inner-thighs, Ghost was just as deprived as you were for him.

A thick sensation adjoins his tongue and nose, overwhelming sparks of emotion possessing you. The palm around your mouth is useless at this point, it lays flat and abandoned as a fist clutching at the sheets, moans chased out humiliatingly. You needed to come, come for him, for your own sake — but that was hard to think about when Ghost was mouth-fucking and finger-fucking you at the same exact time, much like some pornographic type video. A cliche one.

You were squeezing around whatever he stuck in you next — his tongue, his fingers, his tongue, or an combination, you were with no doubt tight and squeezed around any of his body parts.

"Fuck, you gonna come, sweetheart?" he asked, muffled with your clit puckered between his lips. "It's okay, come for me, just like that."

"Baby! Oh my go-"

Your back arches to an impossibly high rate when the knot in your stomach unties itself willingly, a wave of arousal gushing in streams on his face. Audible whines fall from your lips as you fall back right in contact with the plush of the bed. Sweat and the scent of sex reeks around you and Ghost, your chest rising with each hefty breath that is fished from your lungs. Your blurred vision is somewhat returned to its original shape, enough to make out Ghost — with his bare chest and your arousal at his face, tongue used to make said arousal transpire licking around at it, and his inked forearm. He was sticky and sweaty, a little tired, but obtained the right amount of stamina to be right inside you, just like he had wanted.

"Simon." you heaved out below, his fingers pressing into your hips. "Fuck me, please. I need you so bad, needed you ever since you've first moved here."

Ghost releases a low grunt and within a few seconds, he's messing with his belt — shakily unbuckling it and shrugging his pants to the floor. His boxers are no place of concealment, the prominent outline of his bulge protruding beyond the fabric, the sight provoking you to press your thighs together and rev-up that weakness present in your knees. He tugs at the waistband and slowly, painfully, lowers the border bordering item down — his cock almost immediately coming to press against his lower abs, at his lower stomach, really giving you the idea of how big he was. His balaclava is fully suited back on his face as the he leans down to give a final stream of soft kisses at your stomach through the mask, a hand pumping from the base of his cock to the tip.

"You want this, angel?" he groans with his pumps before he releases himself from his hand, positioning the tip of his cock right at the entrance of your swollen cunt as he provided a pre-fuck with only his tip. "Want my cock deep inside your pussy, pounding you into the mattress?"

"Oh god, I do, want you to fuck me as if I'm your wife, your pretty little housewife."

With one unforeseen jolt of his hips, he slams into you, your tight walls fondling him as if you were made for him. Your arms link around his torso as he moves his hips slowly, nails etching into the muscles of his back.

"Fucking hell, I can feel you squeezin' around me, love," he pants out, thrusts developing into a more faster pace. "This pussy is so good to me..."

"You're so fucking big, fuck."

Ghost jackhammers his cock into you, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, your legs squeezing around his waist. Your mouth widens with each moan and whimper he could drain you of — he pounds into you, fucking you like an animal rabid, sinking fully inside with each thrust of his hips. There's a composure and steady rhythm he keeps, allowing him to punctuate each of his plunges with his cock kissing at your cervix, his hand moving down to your clit. His thumb rolls over the bud and correlates it with how he fucks you, your nails digging at the skin of his back.

"Want to put a baby in you," he groans as his hips rock faster, nearly knocking the breath out of you, his fingers ghosting over the imprint of his cock in your lower stomach. "We'll have a perfect lil' family together, such a pretty little mother to my kids. You would let me do that, yeah?"

He's pistoning his hips in-and-out of you, your cunt naturally squeezing around him as your whines grew in pitch. His words held so much meaning — an entire family with him? Spending a lifetime with the older man you've adored from across the street? It had sounded more like paradise, anything that you've ever wished for in life. He knew he loved you so much, and you knew you loved him as equally, so much that he could imagine your cunt all full of his seed — stomach swelling with his child.

You nod as an agreement and he grunts, thrilled at the idea of you and him birthing something so intimate with each other. A family, your family, his family. It was a scheme he never thought he would be overly-obsessing, despite his disagreement with it during his time serving the army. But he dropped it, as long as he had you, and a devoted life.

"Want that so bad-" you squeal out, the sensation of a knot in your stomach on its last support heels, each of his drilling thrusts pulling you nearly to a climax. "Wanna have your baby, yours forever." Your phrase comes out slurred as the knot is broken of the last support it was on, sending you back into another session of short paradise.

"You're so beautiful. Going to breed this pussy with all my cum, honey." He sinks into you more erratic as he feels the walls of your cunt grasp abnormally tightly around him, his head going bare and distorted, the only initial thought in-tact was to keep the flow of thrusts he had fabricated — though, said flow was quickly dismembering.

His fingers of projecting veins running up his knuckles that were conveniently gripping your hips with such a pressure molded your skin into his contact easily. Your moans coming from a thrown back head against his cologne-scented pillows merged with Ghost's persistent heavier grunts — it's almost like a choir, using two valid voices, and delivering some sort of out-of-tune melody but with a hint of great profound beauty behind it.

The sensitive nipples of your breasts rub up right against his sweat-sheen chest in company with the dog tags strewn around his neck swaying in your face. He's leaning into you and has you caged in with no escape, his flow of thrusts gone, both of you desperate for a release. His muted breathing is irregular and heavy, your legs trembling and weak encircling his waist. His name is on your tongue and it leaks into the air, chanting it like your life was depending on it at the moment — depending on him. The lewd squelching of the head of his cock kissing your cervix, his noises combined with yours, the slapping of skin-on-skin — all of it was such an erotic sight to the human eye.

His head is back resting in the expanse between your head and shoulder, balaclava raised to expose the area of his lips once again, the warmth of those lips stamping sloppy, wet kisses into your neck; you squeal out as you're driven to your breaking point, a rush of arousal pressuring from your cunt and spraying onto his lower abs while he douses his cum deep into your swollen cunt. His own high-point doesn't stop him from sneaking a few more smaller thrusts for a bit, assuring all of his seed stays remains inside you.

"Fuck," he mutters, voice breaking off, his knuckles are ghosting a shade paler than white while he keeps purchase on both sides of your hips. He's stuttering over breaths as he tries to catch up with them, eyes falling to your immobile self. Your mouth is vaguely unfastened with breaths taken, eyes nearly closed, body slightly shuddering with the collisions of his cock still felt up inside of you — leaving your filled cunt fluttering around nothing.

"Too rough on you, sweetheart?" He asks, raspy.

"I think I'm okay, besides —you made my night even better."

He chuckles, a rare vision coming from a man like himself. "I'm happy to assist with that."

"Also," you imposed a dopey grin on your lips. "You should ask me for favors more often."

#.୨୧ fleur's writing.#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x f!reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #call of duty mw2 #mw2 fanfic #oneshot #female reader

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starzshopoflove · 29 days

Text

Who's your daddy? (Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader)

Notes: fem reader! sfw mostly ,literally just me projecting onto the reader, reader is kind of a pervert drabble! This will be multi part if you guys want!! (WC:550)

Simon does his best to be as involved in his son's life while off deployment, with the little guy living with his uncle Soaps mom and sisters while his dads gone. It's always the little things he wishes his dad did when he was younger. His worst fear is being anything like his own father

This man is literally superdad, present at every PTA meeting he can be, makes cupcakes for the class on his son's birthday, every little league game, pick up and drop off, anything and everything he can do he will

His son will babble mindlessly about anything because well,, he's 4 that's what children do. So Simon doesn't process much of it as actual information, more like vague “hms” “that's nice' ' and “ah oh really?”. Now when his son started to repeatedly bring up this “Miss” Simon assumed that he’s made a friend at school which made him pretty happy since he never had many when he was younger. It sounded dumb but he just assumed Miss was short for Missy or whatever kid name

Casual asks of “How was school” being met with his boy saying “Miss gave me a sticker today” or “Miss made cookies today”. So you can imagine his surprise when he saw a random woman in the most lung collapsing sundress and cardigan holding his son looked at him and smiled while his son just waved and cheered.

Simon is guilty of occasionally being late for pick ups but usually his boy is inside safe in the lobby so seeing you holding him would be more stressful if he wasn't a tank of a man that could maim an entire army single handedly, especially when you were literally basking in sunlight holding his child in a flowy pink floral sundress with a crochet cardigan, I mean seriously don't you know its a crime to stop traffic

“Hi! Hi daddy! Miss waited with me for you, see!” Handing off the little guy to his dad you were also choking up, you became a teacher to help children learn not to ogle at their dads, but my god did it make up for your criminally low salary. The sight of a giant man in those loose worn out jeans, that tight white shirt stretched over his muscles bulging out of the fabric, and those eyes that look like they could melt you.

You could already feel the blush creeping off your neck and honestly you prayed to god with all your might that you could run back into your car, turn the AC on blast and fan whatever blush was on your face off. “You must be Mister Riley right? Hunter is a pleasure to have in class” You know what else would be a pleasure? Your di-

“Im sure he is” Oh fuck that accent you could practically feel your knees buckling just imagine how much better it would sound saying “You’re alright girl” all deep and gravelly while hes nibbling on your ear

Needless to say Simon started showing up to pickups more often and you slowly started wearing shorter sundresses.

#cod mw x reader #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost call of duty #john price #cod simon riley

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 6 months

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More Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley and Taskforce Moments With Little Ghost

+ Featuring Los Vaqueros Uncles, Meemaw Laswell (and her wife?), Peepaw Nikolai, Aunty Farah and Uncle Alex

Did I use the same pictures as I did with the last posts? Yes, because these pictures are so Ghostie coded. Also there's like a slight ✨sprinkle✨ of Angst in there, good luck <3

Tag list: @puff0o0 @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui HAS THE BEST FREAKING COMMENTARY AND IS SO SWEET, SHE MAKES ME SOUND LIKE I'M SOME AUTHOR WHO WROTE A FAMOUS BOOK, ILY CONNORSUI <3 (ngl, I go back to read her commentary over and over again because if how nice they make me feel 😭)

Pairings: Ghost x Wife!Reader

This is my personal AU, I don't think anyone has written on little Ghostie before I did. Not to say that there aren't any works on Dad!Ghost and his kids however Ghostie is a character of mine who holds such a special place in my heart, especially after I started writing more about her and how she acts around everyone.

Possible ships: Farah x Alex (Faralex)?? Alejandro x Rudy (Alerudy)?? Price x Nikolai (Nikprice)??

I know Halloween season is over but y'all can't do anything about this, it's been cooking in my brain for a while now. (Some of these are just regular scenarios though) Ghostie is back y'all!!!

❥ Ghostie who simultaneously made her way into convincing the Taskforce to go with her trick or treating, having her little army uniform that was commissioned for her, a bit visible underneath her pink puffy jacket. Yeah I don't think she's going to stop wearing it unless she's outgrown it, in which case, that would just break her big heart :((

❥ Simon holding little Ghostie's hand while she toddles, she would NOT go anywhere without either her dad's, her mum's or her uncle Gaz's hand. Having her tiny chubby fingers gripping onto two of her dad's fingers as he guides her up big steps. Catching her when she accidentally slips on the slippery steps.

❥ The rest of the Taskforce being behind her like a bunch of guard dogs, ain't nobody is gonna try and scare her because of the big burly men next to her. Photo was provided by my favorite artist last Halloween, @puff0o0:

❥ Ghostie having the sweetest voice ever, she so polite, so much so that she makes the her dad and uncles chuckle at her. (This is how I imagined her voice to sound like)

"Say trick or treat.." Gaz whispers, coaching her from behind as someone from the house opens the door. Two women in costumes, holding a big candy bowl.

"trwick or trweat.." Little Ghostie mumbles, far too shy and almost hiding behind her uncle.

"What a cute costume you have there, here, take these ones" one of the women said, adding the candy to Ghostie's little basket.

"Thank you!" Ghostie exclaims, making the two girls awe at her politeness and eagerness.

❥ Yeah Ghostie definitely pronounces Halloween as "Ha-Hoween".

❥ I can't help but think that they came across that one house with a sign that said "leave your single dad's number if he's attractive" and as a joke, uncle Gaz threw in a piece of paper with peepaw Price's number on it, only to have peepaw Nikolai fish it out of the candy bowl when he thought no one could see him.. but Ghostie did.

Not Halloween related:

❥ Safe to say that when uncle Gaz doesn't like someone, neither does Ghostie, if you all can recall that cutscene from mw3, Gaz did NOT even bother to acknowledge Philip's existence. That being said, Ghostie gives the nastiest side-eyes to him the moment he even opens his mouth. (Yeah she got from her dad)

❥ Ghostie absolutely loves getting head pats and giving them, to her, it's one of the best forms of praise. Anyone gives her head pats gets to witness her absolutely adorable reaction, the way her eyes light up, those little lips curling into a smile causing her chubby cheeks to be prominent and her eyes squinting. Mostly loves doing it to uncle Soap, because the mohawk is fluffy.

❥ Maybe at some point, when Philip decides to behave then he can earn the head pats from Ghostie.

❥ Meals with the Taskforce and Ghostie are a certified hit, she has quite the appetite and she shows it. Simon takes it upon himself to always does what his wife does at home when he's out with Ghostie, bringing her silicone bib and baby utensils. (Even the bulky ass highchair attachment that he keeps in that back of his car/truck)

"More please..." Ghostie says, making grabby hands, in the middle of chewing after observing that her plate is yet again empty.

Price chuckles, looking at Simon who was now careful about the amount of food to add on Ghostie's plate because the toddler is on her third round of food.

❥ Ghostie enjoys clapping her hands and anything as well, especially after eating and being satisfied.

❥ Ghostie is into tea, her dad got her hooked on it.

"Aye, what about you Ghostie? What'd you like?" Soap asks the little one who's currently keeping herself busy with her custom coloring book.

"Tea!" She says, looking up for a bit to Soap before focusing back on her coloring.

"You heard her Johnny, make that two.." Simon says with a pretty firm pat on the back for Soap.

"Fuckin' Brits..."

❥ Auntie Farah and uncle Alex are the babysitters when uncle Gaz, uncle Soap and peepaw Price ain't around. Farah loves that kid to death, if she was being honest, she saw a lot of resemblance between Simon and Ghostie. Of course there are looks were, she's basically a carbon copy of him but also mannerisms;

❥ Ghostie who copies her dad, being adamant about being cleanly and tidy, oftentimes catching people surprised that she tidies up after herself immediately after playing before moving onto another set of toys, coloring books and coloring materials. She notices and mirrors how Simon is consistent in keeping things tidy and out the way.

❥ Whenever Ghostie is at home with her momma (you) and Simon had to run errands, she always wakes up first, seeing how her dad gets up early too.

Ghostie rises up with a soft yawn, rubbing her tiny eyes with her hands, she looked around at the still dimly lit room. She turned her head from side to side looking for her dad.

She was met by him standing and dressing himself up in a black hoodie to go out and buy something. She gives him that cheek to cheek smile before leaning her cheek and closing her eyes, mandatory kiss from dad before he left.

"Alright pumpkin, dada's leaving now. I'll be back later, be good and don't give momma a hard time.." Simon reminded her after giving her cheek a kiss.

"Okay dada- promise.." Ghostie yawns mid sentence.

❥ Ghostie who, ever since she way younger, loved to cup her dad's face and nuzzle her nose into his. A tradition that Simon doesn't know if he's ready to see it go when she grows up. Neither is he ready for her to start correcting the words she's been pronouncing wrong;

❥ Dad!Simon whose heart broke once he realizes that the "I love you"s will slowly start to be less and less when she becomes a teen, he's silently wishing to himself that it won't be reduced to not being said at all. You had to reassure him that it won't happen, not when Ghostie's the sweetest little girl anyone could ask for and Simon is the best dad anyone could as for.

❥ Uncle Alejandro and uncle Rudy being the seasoned uncles who happened to be absolutely adored by Ghostie, not as much as uncle Gaz but let's be real here, no one is on uncle Gaz's level.

❥ Uncle Alejandro and uncle Soap having bets and arguments on who gets to reach their language to Ghostie while she just sits there on uncle Rudy's lap, sipping on her apple juice, quite entertained.

❥ YOU CANNOT TELL ME THAT RUDY ISN'T RESPONSIBLE FOR GETTING HER TO SLEEP OR NAP, that man is a walking heater. I can just see him standing there while holding her in his arms while she's trying her hardest not to fall asleep, yawning "Uncle Rudy.." before immediately snoring, snuggling her face into his soft blue hoodie shirt. (@icarustypicalfall is living for this, I just know it)

❥ Alejandro who gets smacked in the back of the head by (his husband) Rudy for being too loud and almost waking Ghostie up. (Alerudy when? This is a joke to y'all Alerudy haters, I like the ship, it's cute. Not sure if it's canon here in my AU, up to you guys to decide)

❥ Laswell and her wife absolutely fucking adore Ghostie, shit she makes them want to have kids, she has almost the same effect on almost everyone. Silently making her uncle Gaz wish that he isn't single.

❥ Let's be real here, peepaw Nikolai was the one who Ghostie jammed with while listening to heavy metal. He also got her this mini leather jacket that matched his, with her nationality country/countries flag/s embroidered patch on the side. I can just imagine her little head bangs that peepaw nik taught her 🥺😭.

❥ Also Ghostie has access to almost everyone's prized stuff, uncle Gaz's and peepaw Price's hats, uncle Soap's medals and even peepaw Nik's jacket which looks like she's swimming in it when she's wearing it.

❥ This pic is so Dad!Simon and Ghostie coded:

❥ Something tells me that Simon would send you this pic and you'd probably have a heart attack, your husband isn't the best driver after all but you trust him since he won't put your daughter in imminent danger.

❥ I think most of the time, Ghostie is in her uncle Gaz's arms and/or lap while he sits on the passenger seat, doesn't really matter who's driving.

My past works on Ghostie, in case you haven't seen the posts before this one on my most favorite mini Ghost:

Little Ghost (Drabble)

TF141 Interacting with Little Ghost Hcs

This was far longer than I expected, I just love Ghostie so much and I just have a lot to say regarding her.

A/n: This is now an official taglist for most of my generic CoD works, none of these people asked to be tagged on my mediocre content and I understand that, if y'all wanna be removed from the taglist then y'all could tell me privately or on the replies if you guys prefer it :))

Sidenote: Is it normal to be so excited over something you bought? I literally bought my first ever concealer today, a mascara that I've been looking for and lip oil. I was so excited that I squealed when I got home and immediately used them. Any makeup tips that you guys have? Sort of a beginner at this stuff.. Also does anyone whose had viral posts ever feel like their popular strike is over because none of their works get as much attention? Looking at all my recent posts and hyperventilating because the numbers are lower by so much.

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ysljoon · 7 months

Text

Love Maze-Chapter 1

pairing: single dad!simon 'ghost' riley x live-nanny!reader wc: 1.8k warnings: slow burn-ish, unexpected pregnancy, abandonement, swearing, afab!reader a/n: trying to do a chaptered fic after so long my god pray for me yall but im really excited i hope yall enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it MINORS DNI (have your age in your bio or you're getting blocked) >next chpt.

Simon stared down at his baby girl with unreadable emotions swimming around his pupils. He loves his daughter with every fiber of his being and would do anything for her. Although she came into this world unexpectedly at a time when Simon was unprepared to be a dad and the mother left as soon as he was born into this world he stepped up for her. All Simon wanted that night was a night to relieve some tension after a particularly hard mission with any broad that was willing to look past the mask and just make him feel good. He didn’t expect her to be at his doorstep two months later with mascara-tinted tears rolling down her cheeks with a pregnancy test in her hands. She was blubbering about a missed period, not being ready for a baby, and cursing her birth control for not being more reliable, but Simon’s ears were ringing and his chest felt tight just from the sight of the pregnancy test. He had to brace himself against the frame of the door to keep himself steady. He needed to stay composed for this poor girl.

He invited her in and they sat over a cup of tea to devise a game plan on how to go about this pregnancy. Simon had half a mind to just tell her to get rid of it and as those words almost rolled off his tongue he heard her utter the words of wanting to keep it as she was already attached, Simon scoffed at that notion, but at the end of the day, he couldn’t tell her what she can and cannot do with her body. Simon’s heart was racing when she started to get ahead of herself talking about the color of the nursery how they should go about the gender reveal and if it should be a big party or a private affair. Simon felt like that was enough for one day and politely ushered her out gave her his phone number and told her they would be in contact.

Simon did try to keep in contact, but two weeks after that meeting he got called on a mission that would send him abroad for over three months. He had a strict rule that he left his phone behind while he went on operations to not be tracked. He knew it was shitty to do after being aware of the knowledge that he has a child on the way, but he favored the thought that the girl would just leave him alone and he would be free of all responsibility for the child.

That was not the case when he came back, to say the least. When he turned his phone back on after his arrival back home he saw 50 missed calls and hundreds of texts from his fling. At first, they started with concern as to why he was not answering and the texts slowly descended into angry texts filled with swears about how awful he is for abandoning a pregnant woman and the child. The last text made his blood run cold.

Since you want to abandon me I can do the same to you.

He stared at it trying to figure out the full meaning behind the cryptic sentence and there were many ways it could be spun. He frantically called her and bounced his leg trying to steel his nerves as the call rang out. On the second to last ring, she finally picked up.

“Nice of you to finally get around to answering my calls.” Simon gritted his teeth.

“I need to know what that last text meant.” She scoffed hearing his words. “It meant exactly what it meant Simon,” The venom in her voice seeped through the speaker of the phone and it was palpable. “Once I have this baby it’s all yours I’m not dealing with an absent baby daddy. I’ve done all the hard work anyways while you were out fucking off to go do whatever it is. Oh right, I don’t even know what it is you do because it’s all classified.” Simon had to roll her eyes at the tantrum she was expressing over his absence. “Can you be fuckin’ rational? We’re not doing that shit.” He was losing his patience as the call went on, but the girl just laughed at his response. “You don’t get to decide when you pick and choose to be a father so I’m deciding for you. I’m done with all of it! You’ve left me here with no support and I’m not going to live like that for the rest of the kid’s life. Oh, and it’s a girl by the way.” And with that, the call ended without Simon being able to get a final word in. In a fit of anger, he threw his phone down on his hardwood floor causing the glass screen to crack, but it was still usable.

The day he was there at the hospital for her baby girl’s birth was a day that will forever be ingrained into his memory. The feeling of holding such a fragile and small human overwhelmed him to no end. When signing the birth certificate he decided to name her Ella. He felt like it matched her perfectly. When he got home and placed her sleeping form into her crib he sat on the couch and took in everything that had taken place. It was now just Simon and Ella and he wasn’t mad about that, but he also realized he couldn’t do this alone and that’s what terrified him. He wasn’t ready to let the task force know about his daughter.

Simon spent the whole night occupied with making a job listing for a live-in nanny. He felt like that was the best option for him to go about his life as normal without worrying about his child at all hours of the day. Once it was posted he rolled on his side and just stared at Ella sleeping peacefully in her crib. He rolled it closer to the bed and closed his eyes hoping to get an hour or two of rest.

You were up late at night straining your eyes against the bright screen of your laptop busy searching for a new job. You had been out of a job for almost three weeks now and your savings were depleting faster than you expected. You had loved being in childcare, but the last daycare center you had worked at was just not the right fit for you. The coworkers were toxic and you could tell management wasn’t in the best interest of the children, but to ensure that administration had their pockets lined with cash. It had burnt you out to be in an environment and you needed a change of scenery. You refreshed the job listing website you browsed hoping a new job listing would miraculously pop up. Your prayers were answered when you saw the new listing pop up of being a live-in nanny for a newborn. You fervently submitted your resume and went to bed wishing you would get a fast response because this job sounded like everything you needed such as a great wage and a place to live. After all, the rent at your current was unsustainable for the salary you were receiving for your past job, and living paycheck to paycheck was draining.

You woke up at noon and were delighted to see a notification from the poster of the job listing wanting to arrange an interview for the position. He gave you his availability and you realized he was available today for an interview. You hastily agreed to meet with him at 3 p.m. to discuss. You frantically searched your closet for your best professional attire and you printed out a copy of your resume just in case. As you got ready nerves started to build up in your stomach. You needed this position and you didn’t need any unfavorable first impressions to ruin this opportunity for you.

The GPS leads you to quite a large and cozy home. You triple-checked the address to make sure you were at the right home before knocking on the door. You rapped your hand thrice against the door and occupied observing your surroundings so as to not look too nervous. The door creaked on its hinges as it opened and you were greeted by a burly man that towered over your frame and had half of his face covered by a mask. You didn’t expect it but still greeted him with a bright smile and a handshake. He stood to the side to allow you in and you followed him into his living room which had a large black leather couch, a fireplace, and a wall-mounted TV. The home was very minimally decorated, but you could still tell that this man was in a different tax bracket from you. He grunted as he sat down and you tried not to make too intense eye contact as you waited for him to begin the interview.

“To preface, my name is Simon and my daughter’s name is Ella. I work in the military and the line of work that I’m in specifically requires me to be gone for weeks to months at a time and that’s why I need a live-in nanny. I already looked over your resume and you seem to be very experienced in childcare which is a great sign. You would be given the wage that was listed in the job description as well as a weekly grocery allowance. You are allowed to pretty much do whatever you want around here to make yourself feel at home. The one thing I will not allow is strangers to be over. I prioritize my daughter’s safety over anything in this world and if you do anything to jeopardize that I will deal with that and that’s one thing you don’t want me to do.”

You took in all his words and this wasn’t even an interview it had already sounded like you had the job. “Do you understand? If you agree to this position we can get to signing your employment contract and you can start Monday so you have the weekend to pack up your belongings.”. “I understand fully sir.” “Drop the sir, we're not doing that here. You can call me Simon or Mr. Riley.” You nodded at that and he stood up from the couch and went over to the dining table where a thin stack of papers was. He brought them over a pen and slid them across the coffee table for you to look over. They essentially reiterated all the rules and expectations of the job and you signed and initialed wherever it was necessary. You handed him back the papers and he gave them a quick glance to ensure it was completed. He nodded and then stood up to help escort you out of his home. You gave him a quick handshake as your goodbye and went along your way. You could practically be skipping to your car with how excited you are to be starting this new chapter in your life and career.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty modern warfare #ghost x you #cod mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic

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hotmencoreplus · 2 days

Text

DOMESTIC 141 + KÖNIG HEADCANONS

Pairings: Captian John Price, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish, Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick, König x fem!reader (she/her)

Summary: Random headcanons of what TF141 + König are like domestically/ as fathers.

Warnings: Deployment, pure domestic fluff

Word count: 1000+

A/N: Choosing baby genders based on what I can picture more. I appreciate feedback! Let me know what you think :)

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated! Copying and reposts are not! My fics are only posted on tumblr, under this sideblog @hotmencoreplus for the account, @hotmencore

CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE

‣ Definitely 1 girl, 1 boy.

‣ Is very big on respect. If either of them disrespect you, shout, or start being bratty, he is right on it.

‣ Got his boy into football at a young age, and is the loudest dad out of them all. He will be shouting to him on the field just like when he barks out orders to rookies.

‣ Always wants to go on fishing trips. Always. I feel like it would be something him and his daughter do more than anyone.

‣ He isn’t big on technology at all. Pretty much just because he just can’t wrap his head around it.

‣ I imagine him keeping up with the new iPhone models, but would not change a thing about them. This man has default everything on his phone (apart from his lock screen of you and the kids).

‣ He is 100% one of them dads that never know what to call airpods.

‣ “What was it he wanted for Christmas? Airbuds? Earpods? iBuds?”

‣ “Airpods, John.”

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

‣ 3 girls. You cannot convince me otherwise. And he definitely secretly hoped for all girls.

‣ When Simon is home from deployment, they go to him for everything.

‣ Nightmares? You will wake up in the morning to find him missing from your bed, only to find him asleep, half hanging off of one of their beds with his arms round them on his chest, snoring loud.

‣ Simon is so usually on edge, though has learnt to zone his girls out when they are arguing.

‣ “Dad, tell her I’m right.”

‣ “Hm?”

‣ He especially zones out when his oldest girl is talking about school drama. He isn’t listening to a word of it, sat on the living room sofa with his head leant back, eyes shut, humming every so often to make it seem like he is following.

‣ I don’t think he ever shouts. Raising his voice for assertiveness? Yes, but he never shouts at his girls. It reminds him of how his dad use to be with him, and the thought of being even a smidge like his dad really scares him.

JOHNNY ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH

‣ 2 girls.

‣ He aspires for them both to be bestfriends.

‣ He aspires to be their bestfriends. Like he admires them both.

‣ He will never turn down a tea party invitation. Never.

‣ You’ll be cooking dinner, and have no idea where Johnny is. But you hear distant giggles, and follow them up to your daughters’ room. There, you find your military husband sat at a little plastic table, wearing a tiara, clinking tiny cups together with your daughters and their little bears.

‣ “Well it’s nice to see you again Mr. Snuggles. And who is this new gue- oh, hey lass. Wanna join?”

‣ When they start to grow up, he lets them experiment with make up on him.

‣ And seeing your military husband with sparkly pink eyeshadow on and red rosy cheeks really is a sight for sore eyes.

‣ When on deployment, he will tell any and every story of his little girls to anyone that will listen. He loves to show them off.

‣ This ‘anyone’ is usually Ghost.

KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK

‣ 1 boy.

‣ Definitely has a modern style for his kids. He 100% bought him a pair of adorable tiny airforces.

‣ Is his son’s biggest supporter, in everything.

‣ He is big on praise. The biggest softie ever.

‣ Will put up every single painting his son has made. Your fridge is literally covered in paintings, drawings, pretty much anything made by your little boy, will be put up somewhere in the house.

‣ He vlogs literally everything. More than you.

‣ He watches them all when on deployment, missing you both, usually forgetting about sleep so that he can rewatch his little boy’s first steps for the 100th time.

‣ He also big on getting his boy into his own hobbies. Even though he has no awareness to suitable ages.

‣ You’re on the phone with him one night whilst he is away, as he talks to you about what he wants to get your son into.

‣ “When I’m back I’m gonna take us clay shooting. I reckon he’d like it”

‣ “He’s 2 Kyle”

KÖNIG

‣ 1 girl, you cannot argue.

‣ He worships the ground his babygirl walks on.

‣ He will literally do anything for her. And you, of course. But his little girl is the light of his life.

‣ He loves when he is home because he takes every opportunity to dress his little girl. Every single time he does he is internally screaming at the size of the clothes.

‣ Every. Single. Time. He will come home from deployment with a bouquet of flowers for his wife, and pull out a singular flower before he reaches the door to give to his babygirl.

‣ You are definitely the one wearing the trousers in the household, always having to put your foot down. Because there is no way this man could ever say no to his little girl.

‣ Is always taking photos of the both of you. Always. He isn’t often in photos himself, but will never miss an opportunity to take one of either of you.

‣ When he is home and takes care of your daughter whilst you go to work, he will be sending you videos and photos 24/7 as little updates.

‣ I can imagine him being the driest texter on the planet. Like he is a proper dad, will just send a ‘👍’ or one word answers. So these photos and videos will rarely ever have context. He will just send them randomly.

‣ Is completely unaware of suitable bedtimes for kids. You will spend a night out with your friends, and come back in at like 10pm to find him up with your toddler making pancakes.

‣ “König! She should have been in bed at 7pm!”

‣ “Oh”

#task force 141 x reader #task force 141 platonic #könig #simon ghost riley #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #call of duty #dad!reader #husband!reader #könig fluff #fluff #domestic fluff #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley

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outoftheseine · 6 months

Text

- SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY FIC RECS -

a lot of dad!simon fics here. i am not sorry. i want to bear this man's child(ren) | note: this is COD so there are some trigger warnings like: blood, guns, injuries, military stuff, death so please beware of them. there also also 18+ content so minors DNI. don't forget to read the authors' warnings | more will be added!

main masterlist

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

haunted | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @babygirl-riley (heavy angst, tw: depression, drugs, addiction suicide, toxic relationship, please read the warnings!)

too old for you | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x medic!fem!reader

↳ by @lunarw0rks (smut, hurt/comfort, age-gap)

soft spot • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @cordeliawhohung

the red means, i love you • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader x john 'soap' mactavish

↳ by @thewriterg

smashing pumpkins • simon 'ghost' riley x civilian!fem!reader

↳ by @qwimchii

last kiss | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @milf-murdock (angst, unestablished relationship, smut, fluff)

secret lovers | part 2 • husband!simon 'ghost' riley x wife!reader

↳ by @savemefromanepicoftimewasted

my baby swingin' • biker!simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @tojisun (very sexy biker!simon, smut, fluff)

happiness • simon 'ghost' riley x wife!fem!reader

↳ by @lethalchiralium (i feel so fuzzy when i read this series, fluff, sometimes angst, some tw be aware)

i'm with you | keep you close • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @undercoverpena (angst, feelings, explicit)

being yelled at by ghost | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @hxltic (angst! simon is an asshole)

northern attitude | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @bubbles-for-all-of-us (enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst)

lights on • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @peachesofteal (single mom!reader, fluff, slight angst, protective!simon)

one night stand | part 2 | part 3 • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @cmncisspnandmore

ONE-SHOTS - BLURBS - HC'S

break in, break down • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @hyperactively-me (home invasion, comfort, fluff)

his girls • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @babygirl-riley (so so so fluffy, dad!simon)

one fucking mistake • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @codfanficedits (very angsty, hurt but no comfort for a whilez grieving, tw:depression)

book boyfriend • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @stargirlrchive (fluff)

lime-sized • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @imperihoe-writes (pregnant!reader, very fluffy)

bloodied bullets, soft confessions • simon 'ghost' riley x gn!reader

↳ by @ghosts-cyphera (a little mean!simon, hurt/comfort, injuries, fluffy end)

monster • neighbor!simon 'ghost' riley x afab!reader

↳ by @rowarn (smut, protective!simon, zombie au)

unmasked love • simon 'ghost' riley x afab!reader

↳ by @springtyme (so so so cute! dad!simon)

adoration • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @yawnderu (dad!simon, fluff)

simon 'ghost' riley x sensitive!gn!reader

↳ by @cherryredstars (fluff and nswf content)

this chapter is over • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @colonelarr0w (character death, angst, injuries, some fluff)

simon says • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @unreliablesnake (smut)

salt in an old wound • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!oc!reader

↳ by @ghouljams (hurt/comfort, explicit content, fae au)

blood on my shirt, rose in my hand • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @alwaysshallow (friends to lovers, the continuation is on ao3!)

antique soldiers • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @mangowafflesss

why? • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @riverbutghost (asshole!simon, injuries, slightly explicit at the end)

cold but warm • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @riverbutghost (asshole!simon, injuries, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff)

pretty pink flowers and bloody cherry blossom tree • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @underscorewriting (really really angsty, ugly cried)

for the last time • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @wttcsms (pregnant!reader, mentions of death, angst but fluff)

welcome home • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @nastybuckybarnes (home invasion, arguing, fluff)

medical leave • simon 'ghost' riley x gn!reader

↳ by @kib-ble (mentions of injuries, hurt/comfort, fluff)

no more stars left to count • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @lvlyghost (angst, hurt/comfort)

protective • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @ponyosmom35 (medic!reader, protective!simon, tw: sexual harassement)

return • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @bruhrobs (fluff, colleagues to lovers, single mom!reader)

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yawnderu · 5 months

Text

Lorelei — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Part V

1 2 3 4

Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.

This chapter can be read as a one-shot without having to read the whole story! :)

"Are you staying for Christmas?" You ask casually, decorating the cookies you baked with Simon's help. Your daughter is sleeping peacefully in her crib, a small Santa Claus onesie on her, preparing her for the celebration even when there's still a few hours left.

"You want me to?" He asks with a raised eyebrow, brown eyes fully focused on decorating the head of one of the cookie figures, steady hand drawing a skull pattern with ease.

"It's her first Christmas, I think she'd like having her father around." I want you around as well. He's lucky you're focused on decorating your cookies, missing the way his face lights up with a proud smile. It's a lot of progress.

''Right. I got you both some presents in the car.'' He washes his hands on the sink, giving his daughter one last look before leaving the house, trying to gather as many of the gifts he bought as possible. ''Some presents'' was clearly an understatement— he has been building a pile of gifts for months, his car full of boxes and bags for both you and your little girl.

''Jesus Christ.'' You wash your hands and go help him as you see him struggling to carry the pile, taking some from him and putting them under the Christmas tree.

''There's more in the car.'' He seems almost sheepish as he confesses, giving him a small pat on the arm as you go outside to help him. You almost laugh as you look inside, the entire backseat full of presents. It's almost ridiculous, yet so charming how much he wants to make both of you happy, knowing how much it the holidays mean to you, especially now that you have a daughter.

''Isn't this... a bit overkill?'' You joke, earning you a playful pat on the ass now that your arms are busy. You miss the kick thrown his way, jogging after him with a smile when he playfully gets on the other side of the couch to avoid you getting revenge.

''I still got one more present coming, but that's for later.'' He walks back to the kitchen once he made sure you weren't going to kill him for patting your ass.

''I swear to God, Simon, if it's another d—'' He interrupts you by smearing frosting on your cheek, shooting you a cheeky smile that gets erased the moment you do it back— smearing way more than you should have all over his cheek.

''Bastard.''

Your baby was up by the time it was midnight, excited to see her mum and dad opening up presents and even joining in, tiny hands clearly struggling with the wrapping paper, yet somehow managing without help.

''Strong girl, like her mum.'' You smile softly at his words, looking at the way your daughter stares curiously at one of her last presents; a cactus activated by sound.

''Say 'hello'.'' Simon says, getting closer to the toy until it activates, dancing around and lighting up. Astrid looks confused as she looks at it, brown eyes looking up at you before looking back at the toy.

''Hello.'' He repeats, a warm smile on his lips when the toy starts dancing again, much to your daughter's confusion. She babbles at it, tiny hands reaching out to touch it once it starts moving and playing back her sounds, giggles escaping her lips as the toy imitates her laugh.

Simon's phone vibrates in his pocket, getting up from the couch before looking down at his phone with twinkling eyes.

''My mate's here, I'll be right back.'' He doesn't wait for you to reply, already out of the house before you can even say anything. Your focus is back to your daughter, happy that she enjoys playing with the toy rather than being scared of it like you've seen in videos online. Brave girl she is, not a single lick of fear in her.

Simon comes back a minute later, holding a big German Shepherd that can definitely walk on its own. You give him a questioning look as he sets it on the floor, holding his collar just in case.

''Absolutely not.'' You try to protest, yet your gaze softens when you see Astrid crawl to the dog.

''Wa-wa!'' She points out, tiny hands reaching up to pet the dog the same way you've taught her, gentle. The dog doesn't react much besides laying down on the floor for your daughter to pet it, making it much easier for her.

''His name's Riley, he's a retired K-9. Look, I'll pay for his food and even for someone to come take care of him when I'm not here, I just... want you to be safe.'' There's hints of pleading on his tone, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he looks at you.

''... I'll take care of him.'' You say with a small sigh, knowing Simon wants nothing else than for both of his girls to be safe, especially when he's deployed.

''We gave him extra training to deal with kids and emergencies. Big geezer's patient and good.'' He keeps trying to sell it as if you didn't say yes already, a small giggle escaping your lips before giving him a reassuring smile.

''We'll keep him, don't worry.'' You crouch down to pet the dog, who is clearly enjoying the attention from your daughter, allowing her to rest on his side while petting his head.

There's a smile on his face as he looks down at his family, hands fumbling with the small box in his pocket.

[PREVIOUS]

taglist: @skulfan1 @survivalshxt @ghostslittlegf @yaebaal @thecubanator2 @juliediets @shescabob @kenz-ee @lothiriel9 @dragonstoneshortcake @lunamoonbby @alfie2401 @perfectus-in-morte @mxtokko @cloufie @killergoddess97 @imaracoon @thepurpleaccount @silas-222 @actuallyhiswife @havoc973 @catkatchuck @preeyansha

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wordstome · 6 months

Text

Single Dad!König (Dream Daddy au)

(+ a bit of Ghost under the cut)

Thank you to everyone who indulged (said exactly what I asked them to say 😅) me.

Here’s the paragraph I wrote:

I imagine his heart sinking when Ava comes home sad and quiet, unwilling to look her dad in the eye. He recognizes what that means: that used to be him as a kid. His worst fears are confirmed when Ava admits she's being harassed by a boy at school, replaced by anger when Ava says her teachers simply shrugged and told her that boys will be boys, and has she considered that maybe he just has a crush on her? Needless to say, by the time König's walking out of that school, nobody will ever be hurting his little girl ever again. Honestly, one glimpse of Ava's dad by her classmates will keep her free from bullying for the rest of her life.

Now here’s a bit more about single dad König, namely, how he came to be a dad…and single :( Angst and death tw ahead (nothing graphic)

With Ghost, I said he would only have had Caden due to an accident, because of Simon’s previous trauma involving his family. He was firmly in the mindset that he would die in the field, he’s just not built for civilian life anymore, he's a danger to everyone who loves him. However, when Caden shows up at his doorstep, all he can think about is Tommy and his nephew Joseph when he looks at the boy. He probably does his best to get Caden sent to a different family member, but let’s suspend our disbelief that any responsible social worker would leave a kid with Simon “Ghost” Riley for a moment and say that the social worker is like “It’s you or the foster care system.” Realistically, Simon would probably be like “foster care is safer than living with me” but for the purposes of the AU, he took the kid in.

With König, he doesn’t have the same trauma/hangups regarding kids and family. He’s in the same boat as Simon: he’s a human weapon, and can’t function properly in civilian life. For König, his work is an outlet and keeps him stable. I’m gonna have to sit down and make a proper post about my König’s character (Alexander), but for my König, violence is a method of regulating his emotions and a way to manage his anxiety. Having power and being hyper competent in the field is key to his mental stability. However, I think he would be able to settle down, it would just take a very patient, special woman. (For the purposes of the AU his first partner is AFAB she/her.) Here’s where I start breaking hearts… 🤭

In Dream Daddy au, König considers his first wife the love of his life. She deeply understood him as a person and wasn’t afraid of him, even when he was socially awkward and intimidating. They were honestly kindred spirits: both of them had their neuroses and flaws, but instead of trying to fix each other or mold the other into some ideal partner, they accepted each other and thus were able to grow together. (And tbh they were already a match made in heaven anyway.) König’s wife never asked him to quit, and was completely ready to raise a child with him frequently being gone. She was a badass woman, and she really, really wanted to start a family with him, so they had Ava.

For three years, König was probably the happiest he’s been in a long time, and if you asked him he’d probably say it was the happiest time in his life. He was moving up the ranks at work, his mental health was in check, and he had a wife and adorable little daughter to go home to every leave. He started planning to transfer to a safer/more stable position, because as much as the military has done for him, he’s ready to step up as a father and a husband. Then he gets a call that changes his life forever, and suddenly he doesn’t get a choice anymore.

(I'm eternally sorry to the little fictional people I made up in my head because I entertained the idea of putting the Brooklyn 99 "Guess who got murdered!" gif here...)

One thing y'all need to know about my man Alexander is that he is the embodiment of "I am not meant for casual. I was born for soul-crushing devotion." His problem is that he never had devotion before his wife: he craved it like a starving man, and it engulfed him like water flowing into a basin when he got it. He had it for a handful of years (I'm thinking 6 but that's a flexible number), and now it's gone again. You know in movies when something horrible happens and they cut all the noise and there's just a high pitched ringing sound? That's König getting that phone call.

God. All I can imagine is König dropping everything and taking the next flight home. He’s in a daze, in a way that he’s never quite been before. His mind is finally quiet, but the emptiness is not peaceful. Then he finally sees his little girl, she runs into his arms, and the dam bursts. He just holds her and cries. He’s numb, a dead man walking throughout all the business that needs to be taken care of after his wife’s death. The only thing that brings him back to the land of the living is Ava. She’s so small, so sweet, and she doesn’t really understand what death means: all she knows is that her mama’s gone somewhere, and her dad is so, so sad all the time. She’s all that keeps him going, and the only reason he keeps himself alive.

By the time you come into his life, it’s been several years, but Ava is still a little girl. She doesn’t remember her mother at all except what König tells and shows her, because he’s determined to keep her memory alive. König’s been slowly rebuilding who he is as a person from whatever scraps are left. There’s a gaping hole inside him, and he’s reconstructed himself around the hole. In some ways he’s a totally new man, in other ways, he’s gone back to who he was before his wife came along. He’s bitter and angry at the way his life has treated him just as he was as a young man, but now he’s swallowed up by guilt and self loathing. He's gotten better at coping and functioning as the years have passed and life has continued on, but his grief has never really gone away.

(alexa, play "right where you left me" by taylor swift)

#HERE BUCCA GOES WRITING ESSAYS ABOUT A FICTIONAL MAN AGAIN #i spared you guys the 2 extra paragraphs about König’s changed perspective on death and mortality #könig #konig #könig cod #konig cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #dream daddy au

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nsharks · 1 year

Text

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part three —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn. enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: let's build some relationships :)

From behind a tree, your eyes narrow with concentration as you draw the string of your bow. The feel of it in your hands offers satisfaction; you used to love new makeup, blushes and creams, or sweet custards from the market. Now, you love a good weapon.

Is there anything Ghost doesn’t know how to do? And you thought Paul had skillful hands.

You’re not sure exactly where Ghost and Blue have gone, because after leading you out the gate of their camp, Blue showing you the exact maze of steps needed to avoid their booby traps, they went their own way. Again, they disappeared among the white trees. You were left to pick a direction and stick with it. So you ended up here, the opposite way of the pond, with your eyes finally catching sight of a small deer. A fawn.

It’s young but perfect.

The blood that courses through its limbs switches on the predator part of your brain. It will be enough to keep you fed for at least a week, perhaps more, and promote the healing of the wound that aches with each shift of your waist. You inhale, exhale. The arrow is ready to release.

A single gunshot rings out.

Straight through the fawn’s eye.

It doesn’t even have time to cry out as it falls over, a small thud filling the quiet air. Your heart skips a beat and your eyes flicker in the direction of the gunshot, but you already know who has stolen this kill from you. In the distance, you see his bulky form, the lowering of his rifle, and then you see the girl bounce down from a tree and whirl towards the dead animal.

Are you kidding me?

You want to snarl and sneer. Instead, you flare your nostrils while lowering your bow. Meters away, Blue kneels down by the deer and you see her gently mouth words to its corpse. Perhaps, a childish parting that helps her feel better about its death. Ghost arrives and bends down to Blue’s level, and you can’t see his mouth with the mask on, but you know he is speaking to her by how he gestures his gloved hand around.

You’ll have to find another animal.

Squirrels aren’t your favorite meal. They’re not much compared to the taste of venison. But if you char squirrel meat just enough, it can get a nutty flavor that, with your eyes closed, you can pretend is a juicy slab of chicken home-roasted by your mother.

There is no room to be picky.

There is no room for wants anymore, only needs, and from behind the tree, you move your gaze to spot a grey squirrel that will be enough for the day’s needs. You take aim again. You’d put your washed hair in two French braids to keep the strands from interfering, but without ties, they are starting to come undone at the ends. There was a time when you cared about the fashion of your hair. Now, styling is a tactical choice.

Squirrels are trickier. They are small and require greater marksmanship than you are confident you have. Archery was never something you did until the world bled grey and demanded it of you.

The animal flicks its bushy tail, prancing about over thick tree roots. You wait for the moment it stills.

“How’s it going?” someone says, and you jump back in a step, fingers nearly slipping and releasing the arrow off at the ground.

Blue. You whirl around to see that she’s snuck up in a tree behind you, nimble and light on her feet, with curiosity filling her eyes as she sits perched on a branch, one that would be too high for you to ever climb. Her brown hair is hidden under her hood, the tip of her nose flushed pink from the air, and she rubs her hands together to brush off the crumbs of tree bark. Her movements remind you of the squirrel.

It takes a moment for your muscles to soften. You glance back at the squirrel and it’s already scampered off.

“Going great,” you tell her flatly, sighing through your nose. You can be patient with her. She’s nice, young. She’d snuck you extra food. “Shouldn’t you be with Ghost?”

“I’m just stopping by to tell you that we’re leaving. And—“ she squints her eyes in the distance for a moment, “That there’s a couple of those fucks due south.”

Those fucks.

Lovely. You glance around at the unfamiliar trees. From down here, you don’t see anything, but from her vantage point, her scope of sight is better for scouting threats.

“They’re pretty far off. Just be careful, okay?”

“Thanks. I will,” you nod.

Her bright stare then flickers to your braids. “You did your hair... What are those called again?”

She frowns, searching for the word somewhere in a corner of her young brain. You’re surprised that a ten-year-old girl doesn’t know what French braids are; they’d been all you wore as a kid. But then you realize her normal life came to an end at age five. Perhaps many of the memories have faded, replaced with more useful knowledge that her father has had to stuff in there.

You swallow. “Braids?”

“Braids,” she repeats, tasting the foreign word with a click of her tongue. “Right. They look really cool on you.”

“These ones are pretty shitty because I don’t have anything to keep them in.”

Blue starts to say, "Maybe you could—"

But a gruff call cuts through the trees, beckoning her head to turn.

"Blue. Let's go."

Your own eyes follow the voice and land on Ghost some odd paces away. He is already staring at you through lidded eyes, a palpable energy rolling off his body in waves that you can feel even from this distance. Over his shoulders, he carries the fawn with ease. Large palms clasping the knobby ankles. A steady drip of its blood creates a red stain in the snow beside his boot.

He looks horrific. A smear of crimson on the skull. Dressed in all black, carrying a dead animal as if it is nothing. You recall how he'd pushed you to the ground like you were nothing, too. You swallow the thought.

Before you can even look back at Blue, she's already gone. Whirling down from the branch and running over, following in his footsteps as they head back.

It takes another agonizing hour but you manage to kill a squirrel. The Greys don’t find you, luckily. You stuff your coat pockets with some pine needles and decide to call it a meal, knowing that you will have to hunt again tomorrow.

This area of the forest is still new. In your brain, you’ve already etched some markers to find your way back: the pond where they found you, a circle of pine trees to the right of their camp with a big stump in the center, a small creek past the hill. But the way you return back today leads to you approaching the camp from the backside, and you notice something.

Behind the cabin is something covered in a big black tarp. The tarp is peppered with fallen twigs and snow, but still, you think you make out the shape of a vehicle underneath.

They have a car—?

Irritation finds you. How did Ghost manage such things? A goddamn cabin, a deep trench that you assume he dug all by himself. And now a car. Did he also have petrol stored somewhere? By the looks of it, the tarp hasn’t been moved in a while. What is the car for? Is this what he uses to get medicine from the cities?

You almost scoff as your boots crunch the snow.

You won’t have any of our medicine.

There hasn’t even been a chance to consider how you might fend for some yourself.

For now, you will just focus on food.

Ghost has tied the deer upside down on a branch by the time you are back. You carefully recall the way through their traps. Blue has to unlock the bolted gate for you, but then she runs back to Ghost, who hands a thick blade to her.

“Go on, then, kid.”

“I hate this part,” she mumbles, but he lifts her up so she can reach the knife to the animal’s hind legs, beginning to skin the hide top-down. She wears a concentrated expression as she does so, nose scrunched, and you can tell that skinning deer is a skill her small hands have practiced before.

Ghost is the one to butcher it.

You skin your squirrel.

They use the fireplace for cooking, and of course, their dinner is prepared first. While you wait, you undo your braids and snack on the pine needles. Blue is surprisingly quiet, helping her dad cook a little and playing with Grim on the floor, but also flickering her gaze to you every minute or so.

“Your hair is curly now,” she comments softly during dinner. “From the braids?”

“That happens when you take them out,” you say after swallowing a piece of meat. There’s nothing to wipe your hands on, so you use your trousers as a napkin. Your mother would’ve had a fit.

“Do you…” you clear your throat, glancing at Ghost and then back to the girl. “Do you want me to braid your hair after dinner?”

She nods sheepishly, but Ghost huffs out a low breath. “I could do that for you, Blue.”

“Ghost,” she sighs. “You don’t know how.”

“How hard can it be?”

But Blue licks her lips and shakes her head, mumbling, “I want her to do it. She’s good at it.”

The way Ghost looks at you is rarely anything but uncomfortable. However, when you sit down on the rug with Blue, your hands finding purchase in her hair, his eyes seem to burn holes through your body deeper than any time before. It is as if letting someone touch his daughter physically sickens him, and causes his breathing to turn weighted and deep. He begrudgingly allows it but supervises, sitting on the couch as you begin braiding her hair.

Grim sits in her lap. She strokes his fur.

“You have pretty hair,” you tell her.

Blue softly wonders, “How can hair be pretty?”

“I… I don’t know,” you say. “The color, the length. It’s just pretty, I think.”

“Ghost cuts it for me,” she says, turning to look at him.

“Wait, don’t move. It’ll mess me up.”

“Oh, sorry,” she turns back but continues. “He gets it wet and has me lay my head on the tree stump so it’s all flat. Then, he chops it off with his knife. Right, Ghost?”

His response is a low hum. It’s stiff, pushing through a tense jaw.

You finish the two French braids, running your fingers over them.

"I don't have anything to tie them, but they look really nice on you."

It is then that Ghost stands up and disappears for a minute. When he returns, he has a roll of black thread that you believe he used for your stitches.

With the knife from his belt, he cuts two pieces, bends down, and silently offers them to your palm. Blue lights up. You tie off the braids and she stands, toying with them happily, and asking her dad what he thinks. Finally, you notice his shoulders soften.

"Beautiful," he murmurs quietly, just for her. He strokes the braided hair and then gives a gentle brush of his thumb over her cheek. "Always look beautiful, Baby Blue."

"Don't—" her cheeks flush and she briefly flashes her eyes to you, "Don't call me that."

"Used to call you it all the time,” he grumbles. “Gettin' too old for it, are you?"

What you learn Blue isn't too old for is curling up with him on the couch. This is the first night you stay in the cabin after dinner rather than retreating to your shed, simply because they've left some embers in the fireplace for warmth. You sit on the floor beside it. Blue sits with Ghost and he pulls out a book to read quietly to her.

You try not to look.

It touches you in a way you didn't think it would. It seems so normal. For a moment, you imagine a world where things could be different. A world where Blue wore braids to school every day. A world where Ghost could pick a new book out, rather than read the same ones over and over. A world where, maybe, you could have a family of your own, rather than be an uncomfortable witness to theirs.

But your family is nothing now. You never even knew what happened to your parents. The end arrived when you were away from them. No wifi. No service. Whether they died or turned Grey, you could never be certain. A pit in your gut told you their end happened years ago.

You’re brought out of your daze when Ghost stands from the couch. Blue has fallen asleep. He carries the girl to her room, and you take it as a sign to leave for your place outside.

But before you can open the door, his voice stops you, dropping down to an even lower octave.

“Hold on.”

You turn. “What?”

“We need to talk.”

Despite the warmth from the fireplace, your blood goes icy rigid. You stand there and press your lips. “If this is about the braids, then I won’t do it again. I was just trying to be nice.”

“No. Not that,” and he holds your stare, unwavering, “It’s about your old camp. The other day, you said there were… hoards of ‘em.”

The words roll off his tongue thoughtfully as if this is something that has been mulling over in that brain of his for a while. Thoughts belonging to a skull. A ghost. A father.

Ghost continues gruffly, “Where were you?”

“West of here,” you say. “Jesus, I think, at least. I couldn’t really tell where I was going.”

“How far?”

“Far, but not that far.” Your eyes drift to the floor. “By the forest’s edge.”

“We don’t see that many of them here,” Ghost mutters. This might be the most he’s spoken to you in five days. “Only ever a few at a time. Ten at the most.”

“That’s how it was for us. But more came, and then,” you exhale, “And then there were too many.”

Your eyes close, recalling the frantic manner in which you escaped. The last glimpse of your old life had been the mangled arm of your sister, thick bites cutting down to white bone. In a way, you were glad there were enough of them to kill her.

Your eyes reopen. “We should’ve had an escape plan, something for emergencies. We got too complacent after making it for so long.”

All Ghost says is, “Yeah. You should have.”

And then he is dismissing you with a lazy wave of his hand, turning to give you his back. You scowl, roll your eyes as he is not looking, and leave the cabin. Your spine already aches before you even lay down on the floorboards for the night.

You wonder if Ghost has his own emergency plans; what would have to happen for him to abandon this perfect setup? How would he do it? The memory of the car out back finds you as you drift off. But your sleep that night is haunted by terrible, grey dreams.

It usually is.

Hunting on your own is different than hunting with Paul. There's some learning to do. You have to study the tracks on your own and observe the marks of antlers against the trees. For the first week, you don't get a single deer. Only squirrels. One skinny hare. Ghost and Blue don't go with you; the fawn, rabbits, and stored cans and jars hold them over.

Most evenings are spent braiding Blue's hair. I like the way it feels, she claims. Ghost gets used to it. He still watches from the couch but rather than stiffly staring, he lays down and relaxes, placing a hand over his chest.

The next time they go hunting, Blue's hair is still woven in the French braids when you catch an interesting sight through the cabin's window. She stands on the dining chair to reach Ghost's mask, peeling it off. You can only see the back of his head: brown hair, chopped short.

So there is a human under that thing?

She sets the mask on the table and picks up a clean one. A different one.

When they come out, Ghost with his guns and Blue with her knives, he appears more like a father than a character from a horror film. There is no plastic skull. Instead, a cutout in the fabric reveals the tops of his temples and the strong bridge of his nose. You would never say it, but you prefer this one.

Blue must catch your staring because she tells you, "The other one was starting to smell. I made him change."

"Good call," you quip under your breath.

Again, you go your separate ways. You head for the pond. You think you can hear them somewhere nearby, but ignore it, focusing on the deer prints in the snow. It's hard to tell if they're fresh. It hasn't snowed in two days.

Your footsteps quiet to a halt when you hear light crunching sounds. Another living thing is close by. You take position behind a thick pine, eyes scanning the wooded area and the pond to the right of you. But you know the sound of deer, and you're starting to learn the sound of Blue.

She's scampering towards the pond, just her. You can't see Ghost. As protective as he can be, he allows the girl some length to her leash. Offers bite-sized moments of independence. She's allowed to play in the tree just outside their camp before sundown, but only if he is watching. So you imagine he has let her run off ahead only because he is somewhere nearby.

From the distance, you watch her lurch for a squirrel.

She is quick about it.

Grabs the neck, and holds it up. A quick slice to the jugular. Blood seeps. She frowns, closing her eyes and murmuring something that, in the quietness, you think is along the lines of: I'm sorry. Tried to make it quick for you.

And then she begins to skin it, right then and there.

Young, nimble hands taught to survive.

As she does so, you decide you've seen enough. You have your own food to find.

But as you move from the tree, your eyes drift to find another watcher. A form takes shape behind a distant oak, near the pond. Your heart spikes; a Grey? But no— a Grey would already be running towards her scent. This shape belongs to a human, a withered man with hair that juts out in grey clumps, and crazed eyes pointed right at her.

More so, a revolver pointed.

taglist: @cool-0-n @savagemistresss @morganvoorhees @dinsverdika @cated18 @lolszass @jeswiii @all-good-things-have-an-ending @alternatealt @uvoiid @underatreedrinkingtea @ramadiiiisme @crissteetee67 @lexi-zsy09 @spikespiegell @littlezarp @rebel-soldat @4headkissess @mckenzieriley69 @moxxiestar @palomaxaxaxa @msjaeger

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost #cod #zombie apocolypse au #zombies #call of duty

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