#dad!ghost

[springtyme]

hii!! i saw ur inbox open and was wondering if i could request this; so, imagine dad!simon (or konig idm!!) having his son / daughter see his face for the first time since they were born and theyre just kinda sitting there like :000?? hes so pretty?? while yn is just screaming in the back?? <33 have a great day n thnaks for reading x

𝐔𝐧𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 ♡

Thank you for the request, I had such a good time writing this! I love writing dad!Simon so much! ♡ but also, ngl, the image of this big bloke wearing a mask in front of his baby seems borderline comical to me.

Simon Riley x afab!reader || Masterlist || Ghost playlist

summary: Your daughter finally sees her father's face for the first time.

word count: 2.2k

warning/tag: Mostly just dad!Simon fluff with a little hint of angst. No gendering terms are directly used for the reader, but they are pretty fem coded. It's mentioned that they were pregnant. No use of y/n.

As the soft morning light filters through the curtains of your bedroom, you slowly begin stretching your limbs and blinking away the remnants of sleep. As you slowly settle into wakefulness, you hear the screeching sound of the baby monitor on your nightstand coming to life and you feel how your heart flutters happily in your chest as a familiar sound comes through. The sweet sound of your daughter’s happy coos, accompanied by Simon’s deep, gentle voice, fill the room with sweetness. 

“Morning, sweet pea,” Simon’s voice crackles through the monitor followed by the sound of your baby happily gurgling at her father and then exclaiming a little more whiny sound. “Yeah, yeah, I know you’re hungry, but we have to get you changed before we can make breakfast, lovie.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you lie there, basking in the warmth and comfort of your bed. The love and joy that echo through the monitor remind you of just how much love fills your home. It’s moments like these that make your heart swell with an indescribable sense of happiness.

Your mind wanders, and you find yourself reminiscing about the journey that brought you here. 

From the moment you and Simon first met, there was an undeniable connection, a spark that ignited and grew into a love that was both fierce and tender. However, it hadn’t been that easy to convince him that he in fact was deserving of such love. He had been scared that he would mess it up, mess you up, convinced himself that he wasn’t able to make anyone happy and that he was broken beyond repair. But you had been rather insisting, and he had finally let his walls crumble and let you into his heart. 

And as you had expected, all his worries had been unfounded. He is the best, most loving partner you could ever have dreamt of. 

The love you share with him is a love that feels like home.

And then, the arrival of your daughter added a new dimension to your love story. From the first time you had held her tiny hand, you knew that your family was complete. Watching Simon transform into the most loving and doting father has only deepened your admiration and affection for him.

And as you lie here,  reminiscing on your life, you can’t help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the love that surrounds you. 

With a content sigh, you finally pull yourself out of bed, ready to start the weekend with your little family. 

As you make your way down the stairs you can hear the sound of your daughter’s laughter from the kitchen, filling your heart with warmth and you can’t help but smile and make your way towards the source of the joyful commotion. As you enter the room, the morning sun gently illuminates the kitchen, casting a soft glow over the room, and you are greeted by a heartwarming sight. Simon is standing at the stove, stirring a pot of millet porridge, your daughter’s favourite, while she is sitting in her highchair, which has been moved away from the kitchen table and closer to the counter, so she can see what Simon is doing, clapping her hands in delight.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, mingling with the comforting scent of the porridge. You can’t help but feel a surge of immense love and gratitude for the man who stands before you, effortlessly balancing the roles of partner and father.

Simon turns towards you. “Good morning, love,” he greets you, his eyes twinkling with warmth, the bottom half of his face covered by a black mask. He had started to wear it around the house again after your daughter had been born.  

“Good morning,” you reply, your voice filled with a mix of amusement and adoration. “I see you two are having quite the breakfast party.”

Simon laughs softly and nods. “We thought we’d surprise you with breakfast in bed, but it seems that someone couldn’t wait,” he says, glancing at your daughter, who just giggles in response.

You walk over to them, planting a soft kiss on Simon’s masked cheek before planting another on your daughter’s, much chubbier, one. “Well, I can’t say I’m disappointed. This is the best way to wake up,” you say, gazing at your little family with a heart full of love.

Together you finish cooking breakfast, porridge for the baby and scrambled eggs and turkey bacon for you and Simon.

You begin to set the table as Simon picks up your daughter, supporting her with one arm as he settles her on his hip, so he can move her chair back to the table, but before he can grab the chair he stops dead in his tracks.

Your little girl has grabbed a fistful of his mask in her tiny hand. She doesn’t seem to be pulling on it, or otherwise trying to take it off him, but she also doesn’t seem to want to let go of it when Simon gently takes her hand to get her to release her grip.  

“Sweetheart, please…” Simon says softly, but he trails off, a wave of emotions flickering over his eyes, but they end up having a sort of determinant look to them as they lock with his daughter’s.

You feel how your heart skips a beat as Simon lets go of her little hand to instead grip the place his mask is fastened.  

With a deep breath, Simon removes the mask, revealing his face to your daughter for the very first time in her young life. You feel goosebumps rise along your arms as Simon’s features come to light. The room falls silent, and time seems to stand still.

Your daughter’s gaze is fixed on Simon, you can see a whirlwind of emotions flickering across her little face. 

It’s a pivotal moment that holds the power to change everything. You can see how Simon, too, feels a mix of emotions coursing through him. 

He has once mentioned to you that he was afraid that his scars would scare her, but you have had a suspicion that something else might be the reason he has kept the mask on in front of her for. 

He does have a few scars from his work, but they are nowhere near severe enough to scare anyone. You do have another theory to why he has kept it on, one he hasn’t directly confirmed, but a conversation from your pregnancy has stuck with you. 

He had voiced his concern that something would happen to him on the battlefield. not because he was that concerned for his own wellbeing, he knew what the risks of his job was, but because he was afraid of something happening to him, leaving you and your little one alone in the world. He had, on the whole, had many worries about becoming a father. 

He had been worried that his past had broken him so severely that he couldn’t be the dad your daughter needed him to be. Like the fear he also had about you and your relationship in the beginning of it, the fear that he couldn’t be the man you deserved. 

He has, in all the time you’ve known him, done everything to disprove that concern, he is the best partner you could ask for and now the most lovable dad to your little girl, but you know that he still has his concerns and that his feelings about them are valid. 

You think the mask has served as a sort of safety blanket for him. Like he thought that it would be easier for you and your daughter to lose him if your little girl couldn’t remember his face, or something like that. You find that thought heart rending.               

You know that his job comes with a risk, you had known it when you got together and you had known it when you married him and you had known it when you got your daughter. Losing him on the battlefield would be your worst nightmare come true. You know that he is smart, strong and capable, but you also know that there are no guarantees in war, which, to you, is just all the more reason for  your daughter to know her father’s face, but you have let Simon choose for himself when he was ready for that.  

But you don’t want to think about any of that right now, so you push those thoughts away, and instead let yourself be completely mesmerised by the sight before you   

Your little girl focuses on his, now revealed, face, taking in every detail. Her eyes widening in surprise, curiosity, and perhaps even a hint of fear, her little mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ of surprise as she absorbs every detail of her father’s face. 

“It’s just me, princess,” Simon tells her, his voice filled with a mix of amusement, nerves and an overwhelming love for his little girl. His eyes, once guarded, now shine with warmth and affection. 

The confirmation of his voice is what convinces her. A wide smile spread across her little face, revealing the adorable dimples she has inherited from Simon, on her sweet, chubby cheeks. She lets out a happy squeal, as she realises that it really is her father who’s now smiling down at her, a set of dimples matching hers on his cheeks.    

She giggles happily, which, to you, is the most beautiful sound in the entire world. Her little hands starting to explore Simon’s face, her tiny fingers tracing the lines and contours of it. It’s a gentle and tender gesture that speaks volumes. You watch in awe as the beautiful moment between your daughter and her father unfolds in front of you. It’s a moment you will cherish forever. 

When she finally seems satisfied with her mapping of his face with her small hand, she turns her head to look over at you with an excited expression on her little face, one that conveys something along the lines of ‘you seeing this too?’ Her eyes lighting up, reflecting the genuine joy that fills her little heart.

“Yeah, baby, that’s your daddy,” you smile at her, and she lets out another happy shriek before looking back at Simon again, happily nuzzling her little face into his neck. “He’s handsome, isn’t he?” You continue as you step forward, placing a hand on her back, rubbing gentle circles over the dusty rose bodystocking that she is wearing, one that Simon picked out when he got her ready and you still laid in bed.   

You look up at Simon, a soft smile on his lips as your eyes lock. 

“He never wants to believe me when I tell him, but he is actually the most handsome man I know,” you say, with a playful glint in your eyes. “He’s probably the most handsome man in the whole world, actually.”           

Simon chuckles, his cheeks turning slightly pink. “Oh, come on now,” he replies, his voice a mix of embarrassment and amusement.“I think you might be a bit biassed there, love.”

You shake your head, a warm smile spreading across your face. “Nah, I don’t think I am,” you state, wrapping your arms around both Simon and your little girl in his arms. “Just stating facts. I actually got the most handsome husband and the most beautiful daughter in the whole wide world.” you say with a content sigh, hugging your little family tightly.  

It’s a hug that speaks volumes, conveying love, affection and acceptance. In this embrace, you know that you truly have the most beautiful family in the world.  

As you finally let go of them you place a sweet kiss on your daughter’s little nose. She giggles joyfully, and you can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratefulness over what a happy little girl you have. Simon seems to be thinking the same as he smiles down at her.  

But your adorable little troublemaker doesn’t seem to be done with causing havoc yet.   

She reaches out her tiny hand and grabs for the mask again. Simon hesitates for a moment, looking down at the fabric in his hand, the symbol of his past, before letting her have it. The mask, once a symbol of his doubts and fears, now becomes a simple toy for your daughter as she happily shakes it up and down, a cheeky grin on her little face. 

You and Simon lock eyes, and then the two of you burst out in laughter.  

As your laughter fills the room, a sense of pure joy washes over you. You look at Simon, his eyes sparkling with happiness, and you know in this moment, that the love and bond the three of you share is unbreakable, and it fills your heart with an indescribable warmth.

With a deep sense of gratitude and contentment, you take a mental snapshot of this beautiful moment. It’s a memory that will forever be etched in your mind, a testament to the strength of your love and the joy that radiates from your little girl.

As the laughter subsides, you gather your family close again, embracing the love and happiness that surrounds you. In this embrace, you know that you have everything you could ever need.

Your daughter’s laughter and Simon’s unwavering love fill your life with immeasurable happiness, and you couldn’t be more grateful for the beautiful family you have created.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Oh please, please, please something short, funny with 141 where their wife calls them on their way home from work “yea, I think I’m having contractions!” And by the time they rush home, she’s sitting in the bath tub with their new baby. And she’s all casual like ‘Hey! Look at this cool thing I’ve got!’ And it’s their baby.

(My Grandmother had this happen! Each kid under an hour. My grandfather nearly had a heart attack! He’d always hesitate to leave her alone. Suspicious she was ‘purposefully’ going into labor when he wasn’t there to help her. Lol…)

Okay, that is so funny and adorable! Hehe, omg, I love this. Dad!141 is my favorite. I love writing them as fathers or as potential fathers. And this prompt is just an excuse to do that! Thank you so much for sending it in. Enjoy!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): married life, pregnancy, childbirth, domestic fluff, swearing, humor

Word Count: 2.1k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series

John Price

Price rubs at his temple, releasing a deep sigh.

It’s late. The base is nearly empty. Another late night filled with paperwork.

His phone buzzes, the cellular device vibrating on the desk. Price reaches for it, checking the screen. It’s you calling him, and his stomach flips.

“Cabbage,” he greets with a smile, answering the phone.

You’re pregnant, due date just a week or two away. Price doesn’t like leaving you home alone, but this is the last push. After tonight, he can come home early.

“John?”

His name is a question. There’s a hint of worry—of nervousness—and Price immediately picks up on it.

“Everything okay, love?” he asks, slowly standing, paperwork suddenly forgotten.

“John. I—I think—”

“What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m having contractions.”

By the time the words leave your mouth, Price is already grabbing his coat. “Okay,” he says. “Okay.” He swallows, pushing down his own anxiety, smothering it so he can be strong for you. “Stay on the phone with me. I’m coming home.”

On the other end of the line, you breathe heavily. Each whimper worries him.

“John,” you gasp, voice strangled as he throws himself into his car and turns it on.

 “I know. I know. I’m coming.”

Price is doing his best to stay calm, to stay alert as he drives off base and heads for home, but all he can focus is on you.

“Keep talking to me, love,” he says, attempting to sound encouraging.

“Okay,” you reply, but then go quiet.

 “Cabbage?”

When you don’t answer him, Price uses your name. Nothing. No sound at all as if the line’s gone dead.

“Shit,” he mutters, holding the phone out to check.

Call Dropped.

“Fucking shit,” he says, louder.

Price continues to dial—continues to call. Every time, he expects you to pick up, but you never do. The worry grows, becoming deafening as the seconds tick by. Traffic laws are broken, but it gets him home faster.

He’s throwing himself out of the car, dashing to the house, not caring if he forgot to put the vehicle in park. In the front entryway, he calls out to you, using your name.

There is no response.

 “Fuck,” he whispers as he dashes up the stairs, heading for the bedroom. He enters, and it’s—

Empty.

“Where are you?” he breathes, turning away to check the rest of the house.

But then Price hears your voice, soft and soothing. Frowning, he checks the bedroom again, only to head toward the bathroom.

You’re sitting on the floor, back pressed against the tub. There’s blood and a fluid Price doesn’t recognize smearing the floor between your legs.

You glance up. Smile. “Hi,” you laugh as Price drops to his knees beside you.

There’s a baby in your arms. Its hands are tight fists, face pinched like it’s annoyed to be here.

“No wonder you didn’t answer the phone,” sighs Price, placing his hand against yours that cradles the infant’s head.

“A bit busy,” you chuckle.

Price laughs with you, taking his phone out his jacket pocket to dial the hospital.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“I’m not leaving.”

“It’s fine, Simon. Really.”

Simon crosses his arms over his chest. “The last time I left you this close to your due date, you gave birth while I wasn’t here.”

You dismiss him with a wave of your hand. “That’s not going to happen again.”

“It might,” he growls.

“It won’t,” you insist.

As you start to walk away, Simon blocks your path. “You’ve been complaining about your lower back all morning.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “I always complain about my lower back.” Simon begins to object but you continue on. “And we need milk. And eggs. And bread.”

“Fine,” mutters Simon. “Fine. I’ll go. But you call me immediately if anything happens.”

 “Okay, dad,” you reply, mocking him.

Simon drapes his arm over your shoulders, pulling you in to kiss the top of your head. “Pumpkin,” he replies, and you hear the smile in it.

“The sooner you go the sooner you’ll be back. You can worry and fuss over me all you want then.”

Simon pulls you in for another kiss before heading out the door. The trip to the store isn’t peaceful. In the back of his mind, Simon stews, a little voice telling him that you’re going to call him any second and tell him you’re in labor. That’s what happened with your first, and Simon came home after you’d given birth.

He was devasted. Upset. Not with you—never with you. He was upset with himself for not being there to support you through it. To hold your hand. To encourage and shower you with love.

Simon is standing in line at the meat counter when you call him.

“Don’t be angry,” you say when he answers the phone.

“Are you having contractions?”

“…Yes.”

“Goddamn it.”

Simon abandons the shopping trolley, apologizing to the workers as he rushes out the door and to the car. When he enters the house, he hears your labored cry. Dashing up the stairs, Simon enters the bathroom at the same moment you cry out, clearly pushing. You’re on your hands and knees, sweat beads your brow, hair sticking to your face.

He dives to his knees, arms outstretched and reaching beneath you as the baby’s head emerges.

“I’m here,” Simon says, keeping his voice calm and soothing.

You start crying, head tilting to lean against his shoulder.

Another push, and then the rest of the baby is out and in Simon’s hands. The infant is silent at first, then releases a cry of displeasure.

“Bloody hell,” exhales Simon, “I’m never leaving you alone again.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

I’m having contractions, reads the text.

Johnny’s mouth drops open, gaze growing distant.

You’re having contractions. You’re having contractions, and he is on the other side of the city. With traffic, he’s likely an entire hour away from you.

“Soap?” asks Gaz, waving his hand in front of Johnny’s face.

“I have to go,” says Johnny quickly, shooting up from his chair, almost knocking it over.

Gaz and Ghost both stand abruptly, clearly startled by Johnny’s sudden panic.

“Everything good?” asks Ghost.

Johnny shakes his head. “The missus is having contractions.”

“Oh,” replies Gaz, eyes growing a bit wide. “Damn. Go. You should go.”

“We’ll cover your tab,” adds Ghost.

Johnny groans. “Her due date isn’t for another bloody week.” He grabs his jacket.

“You’re going to be a father, Soap,” chuckles Ghost, punching him in the shoulder.

“Fuck. What if she has it while I’m not there?”

“Don’t these things take forever anyway?” muses Ghost. “Contractions don’t mean anything. Right?” He glances at Gaz.

Gaz shrugs. “I think you should worry if it’s close together.” Gaz holds his hands close to indicate the lack of time.

“Shit,” mutters Johnny, tapping away at his phone.

Are they close together?

It’s a few seconds and then the three little circles pop up, indicating that you’re typing back.

They’re close. A few minutes apart. I’m on the phone with the midwife.

“Oh fuck,” mutters Johnny, elongating the vowel as he tugs on his jacket.

Gaz grimaces. “It’ll be fine,” he tries to reassure as Johnny rushes past him. “Congrats!”

Johnny hardly hears him, he’s too focused on getting to the car. Every second is agony—not knowing what’s happening while he’s driving. When he pulls up to the house almost an hour later, there’s a car Johnny doesn’t recognize in the drive.

As bursts through the door, he hears calming music. Rushing forward into the living room, he finds you on the floor, wrapped up in a blanket, propped up by a nest of pillows. The midwife putters about as you gently rock back and forth, cradling an infant in your arms.

You glance up. “Look,” you laugh, lifting the infant that you’ve just birthed, presenting it like you’ve completed a fun DIY craft project.

Johnny almost faints.

“Oh, babe,” he exhales. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The midwife makes a sound of annoyed agreement and Johnny winces.

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “She came quickly.”

“I should have been here,” he groans, sliding to the floor next to you, draping an arm over your shoulders.

You lean into him. “You’re here now,” you sigh, eyes closing as you snuggle against him.

Johnny looks to the midwife, and she smiles at him—a reassurance. You’re fine, and so is his daughter.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle’s phone vibrates in his pocket. Ignoring it, Kyle keeps his attention on Captain Price, focusing on the briefing for the upcoming mission. The phone goes silent. Seconds later, it starts up again. Frowning, Kyle reaches into his pocket, sliding out the phone just enough to see the screen. Your name and picture appear on the screen, your smile bright and lovely.

“Need to answer that?”

Kyle’s head snaps up at the sound of Captain Price’s voice.

“Sorry, Captain. It’s the missus.”

Price inclines his head, the middle of his brow creasing slightly. “It’s she pregnant?”

“She is,” affirms Kyle.

“Then you should answer it.”

Kyle gives him, Ghost, and Soap a brief nod. “Excuse me,” he mutters, standing and heading for the door.

When the meeting room door slams shut, the phone starts up again.

Kyle answers, his words falling from his mouth quickly, sounding like one solid word instead of several. “What’s going on, love?”

“I’m having contractions.”

You sound panicked.

 “You’re—are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” you gasp. “Water broke earlier—"

Kyle’s voice rises slightly. “Your water broke and you didn’t call me?”

“I wasn’t feeling anything,” you reply, as if that makes it okay. “But now, it’s constant.” Your sigh is labored. Tired. “They’ve come on so suddenly, Kyle. I’m sorry.”

“No. No, love. Don’t apologize.” You have nothing to be sorry for. He’s just happy you called. “I’m coming home. Right now.”

“But you have that meeting. You can’t—”

“I’m coming home,” he reiterates. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Hang in there, dove. I’ll be there soon.” Kyle disconnects the call and bursts through the meeting room doors. “It’s happening,” he announces.

Soap blinks, confused. “What’s happening?”

Ghost side-eyes him. “He’s about to become a dad.”

“Fucking shit. Really?” Soap turns to Kyle, beaming. “Congrats.”

Price crosses his arms over his chest, a look of pride on his face. “Go, Sergeant.”

Kyle nods, giving a half-wave as he backs out through the toward, heading toward the parking lot. He’s practically running—rushing to turn the car on. Taking off, Kyle hardly cares if he hits anything, and he doesn’t blink when breaking nearly a dozen traffic laws.

He makes it home in half the time he usually does. Every second counts. Every moment important. If the contractions are coming quickly and close together, it means the baby is ready, and he needs to get you to the hospital.

As he enters the front door, he calls out to you. Your answer comes, but it’s distant. Upstairs. Kyle takes the stairs two at a time, walking into the bedroom to find it empty. But the bathroom light is on.

A few steps, and he pushes open the door.

You’re not standing at the sink putting on your makeup or getting ready to leave. You sit inside the shower on the tile floor, the glass door wide open, pantless, and cradling an infant in your arms.

“Shit,” he breathes, moving forward. “Shit.” Kyle crouches just outside the shower door.

You grin sheepishly, lifting the baby like it’s an accident. “She came minutes after I got off the phone with you.”

“Oh, bloody hell, love,” laughs Kyle.

There are tears in your eyes, but you’re smiling. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Don’t be, my love.” Reaching out, he grasps the back of your neck. Leaning in, he presses his lips to your forehead. “She’s beautiful.”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @suhmie @z-wantstowrite @kylies-love-letter @keiva1000

@iloveslasher @ravenpoe67 @sadlonelybagel @nishim @arrozyfrijoles23

@voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @sageyxbabey @glassgulls @miaraei

@weasleytwins-41 @eternallyvenus @chaostwinsofdestruction @cherryofdeath @ninman82

@fern-reads @waves-against-a-cliff @beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx

@jianyi22 @sethell @atpeacee @konigssweatyhood @dreamingoftomorrow

@katerinaval @morguethemagpie @galactict3a @sarah-the-bird-nerd @mikachu-bitez

@unclearblur @kurochan3 @sans-chara @all-by-myself98 @hisuccubus

@km-ffluv @thriving-n-jiving @carbonnite-copy @sobbangchan @codeseven

@youre-a-wallflower-charlie

[bruhhxiao]

Do y’all know about that pregnancy prank where the ladies pretend to drink alcohol during pregnancy to see their partners reaction?

Well I imagine Reader filling a bottle with juice/water and pretend to drink it during the most delicate months (from 1 to 3 months) of pregnancy next to Simon making him drop whatever he was holding or doing to take away the bottle squeezing their jaw trying to make them spit it out.

“juice..” Reader says proudly leaning the bottle under his nose.

I imagine Ghost Simon Riley holding his chest laying against something almost about to faint. (Yeah I imagine the big boy shitting the shit out of himself for his partner bullshit)

“ohh once this baby is out…” He says looking at them so pissed as they stand there in front of him with a dorky smile.

[lunamoonbby]

Another ghost thot

What if ghost and reader have baby girl and baby loves to copies mommies facial expressions and when reader holding the baby and she sees Graves, reader just *ugh, rolls her eyes* and gives graves the 😒 side eye look and baby copies mom and is like * tries to rolls eyes, disgruntled sound* and tries to give the same side eye look and kyle is trying not to laugh, soap thinks it's funny but is failing to hide his laugh, price just smirks, and ghost is like that's my mama and baby girl

@lilliumrorum

[rosegolden13]

Dad!Simon thoughts for today :D He’s a girl dad, your honor.

With the mouth on that man, Simon Riley definitely has the absolute sassiest little toddler. She’s only three and hardly goes up to his thigh but she will straight up tell him no. It’s a forceful “no”, too, direct and intense, just like her dad. It's even more ridiculous, too, because she's picked up a bit on his accent. Honestly, she’s a delight for you, normally agreeing with a sweet little “yes, mama!” if you tell her it’s time for bed or that she needs to eat just a few more vegetables but her dad does not get the same sweet temperament all of the time. 

You’re on the carpeted floor of her bedroom with photo albums sprawled about, trying to tire out your toddler before bed by showing her your wedding pictures. She’s tired of all the many picture books you and Simon normally read her. Besides, she loves pressing her tiny fingers to the images, squealing with delight as you point out everyone in the images. “See, baby? There’s mama, and your daddy, and here’s your Uncle Johnny, too.”

“Mama, so pretty!” She admires the photographs of you in white the most, tracing her fingers over the fabric of your dress as if to feel it through the image.

When Simon tries to join in, though, his eyes also lingering on the solo images of you in your dress, he doesn’t get the same praise you do. “Is daddy not pretty, too-?” Before he can even complete the playful question in that gruff voice of his, your daughter is sending him a glare.

“Shhh! Don’t talk!” She plops herself into his lap, her little form curled up against him. Her words are blunt and direct in the way only kids can be. 

You have to hold back a laugh as Simon looks down at her in astonishment. He pokes her side, tickling her plush little tummy. “It’s like tha’, huh? I can’t talk but you can use me as a chair? You’ve been spendin’ too much time with your Uncle Johnny. Spoiled thing, you are.” Her shrill giggles fill the room as she wiggles in his lap.

“You sure that sass is not from you, my love?” You ask with an amused raise of your brows.

“You callin’ me mouthy?”

“I am.”

He just huffs out a laugh.

[naivegh0ul]

Thinking about Ghost helping you out when your breastmilk is clogged 🥴

I mean, he was totally obsessed with your chest before the baby, before you were even pregnant, but now? With your tits all swollen with milk, your nipples puffy constantly? Oh, he's completely crazy for you.

He'd be a little jealous of the baby. They get to have their lips on your pretty tits all the time, why can't he? He almost creams his pants just from you asking him all shyly to help you with your milk because it's backed up and you're sore.

You're not getting him off you after that. His head is constantly under your shirt, lips wrapped around your nipple and his hand pawing at your tits, squeezing and squishing them lightly as he tries to coax the milk out, hoping and praying that he'll get to taste some.

He'd slobber all over your chest, saliva spilling down as he moans and sucks roughly on your perky, sensitive nipples.

"Mmh, come on, sweetheart. Let me taste it, be a good girl." He'd mumble, letting out a loud, lust-filled groan as he felt a small but steady trickle of your milk spilling into his mouth.

"That's a good girl. So good f'r me. Perfect."

[guppybibi]

Girl Dad!Simon who had to get his newborn baby girl taken away from him because he was practically drowning them in his tears. (He denies that it ever happened now)

Girl Dad!Simon who went dead asleep after the delivery, it was unintentional of course, he wanted to help you as much as he could but his body just dropped on it's own. The worst part was is that he basically missed all of the baby's 'firsts' although he managed to wake up just in time for the first nappy change.

Girl Dad!Simon who spends a little bit too much of his free time staring at his daughter. It only worsened when you guys finally got dismissed from the hospital, you tend to find Simon crouching by the crib and watching the baby's every move pretty often. It's like bird watching, he says when you ask him.

Girl Dad!Simon who sobbed more than his daughter during her first day of school, was going to say the most melancholic goodbye but she just excitedly runs off to school and leaves her dad hanging.

Girl Dad!Simon who refuses to miss any important event in her life, no matter how small it is. Will literally call during a mission so he could see his daughter's piano recital.

"Simon? Why do I hear gunshots??"

"Don't mind 'em luv."

"How do you even have your phone right now??"

"Sneaked it."

[mactavishsgfandwife]

Dad!Simon Helps Your Daughter When She Falls Over :((

inspired by this ADORABLE instagram reel 💞💞💞

Your 3 year-old lets out a little gasp as she slips over on the ice and after a moment of shock, she starts to cry out. No words, just a stream of tears and wails of pain, frozen on her hands and knees, bare palms against freezing, snowy ground.

"Daddy!" she cries out, by which time her father is already knelt down at her side, "Dada!"

"Hey, baby," his usually gruff voice sounds soft and low as he gently strokes his daughter’s hair away from her tear-stained cheek, trying not to show how much it affects him to see her with big, sad eyes and so clearly in pain.

“Tell Daddy where you’re hurt.”

"M- m- my knees!" your little girl sobs, leaning into her father’s chest as he picks her up and cradles her in his arms, just as he did when she was younger.

Her bottom lip trembles, and she whimpers softly into Simon’s shirt, sniffling and covering him in tears. Her little hands are sore from the fall, and your husband takes both of them in one of his much bigger, stronger, rougher hands, his thumb gently caressing her knuckles.

"Let me see…" he gently rolls her trouser legs up to see her knees, which aren’t bloody but just a little sore and grazed from her fall. Taking care not to hurt her fragile skin, he leans closer and gently kisses her chubby toddler legs better. It looks funny, this big, scary man being so gentle and loving with a little girl in her pink raincoat, but he doesn’t care. Anything for his daughter.

"Need plaster, daddy!"

"You don’t need one, love, you’re not blee-" he looks down only to be met with her big, teary eyes and sad little pout, her tiny heart so sad not to be getting a plaster.

"Alright, y’get a plaster," he chuckles softly, giving her a tender kiss on the forehead, "you’re such a brave girl."

thanks for reading :P

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Villain!Ghost x Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Synopsis: Your husband wants your company..

A/n: GUYS OMG, I know it's been 1 month and a little more since my last official work. I've been procrastinating on this for so long since I only have less than a week till school again.. Also everyone I love on this app is just disappearing, like @ghost-cyphera just deleted her account 4 days ago and I got the notif but didn't see it in time, I didn't even get to say goodbye. Just wanted to apologize to you guys after being gone for so long as well. Also, another villain!Ghost drabble? 👀

Finding it difficult to walk was one of the least things you've suspected you'd be concerned of upon conceiving, always needing your handmaiden's help in such a mundane task was shameful to say the least but your husband insisted.

If it hadn't been the hand maiden then it would've been him instead, you couldn't keep him from his duties from the kingdom as he carried even yours. Wanting you to turn your attention to the health of the babe growing in you and especially yourself..

"My lady.." you were pulled out of your thoughts by the voice of your handmaiden. You took in a breath from the cool air that blew on your face as you stood by the stone railing..

"Yes, Leticia?" You turned to her..

"The prince consort has requested your company.." Leticia announced, you nod as you removed your hand from the cold stone. You glanced once more to the people of your kingdom, going about their day and life before gently lifting yourself off from leaning on the stone.

Leticia offered you her arm to help you walk more efficiently..

...

"You sent for me..?" You asked your husband, he was sat and signing another set of documents and scrolls. You closed the door, palms gently pushing till you heard it click.

"No, I told them to announce my arrival to you. How dare they exert my wife by giving her false instructions.." he huffed to which you laughed. He wouldn't do anything violent about it, as he so usually does with staff that don't comply but he knew it'd upset you if anything gory were to happen to them.

"I am quite alright, I need to move around too. It's proven to be good for our child." You said, sitting next to the graciously comfortable chair next to his working desk that he had someone make for you.

You felt relief from the pressure previously on your back, hand on the bump of your stomach and with that a sigh came from your lips. Peacefully watching your husband, the sound of the satisfying scratching of the quill on the crisp papers.

You felt his hand grasp yours, he pulled it, lips resting on the back. His affection made your heart beat faster and he felt it, the pad of his index finger on your wrist. The thumping made him chuckle as you smiled and leaned your head on his shoulder.

"You should rest for a while, my love. You'd work yourself to sickness at this point." You kiss his cheek softly. He put his quill down, "If that's my wife wants.." he said.

He wrapped his arm around you, the other hand placed on your baby bump. His thumb gently rubbing, you jolted a bit feeling a strong kick..

It made you groan, how restless the rascal is. Your husband adjusted his hand to feel the next kick.. he'd swear it was a girl, not that he'd care for that sort of thing. He'd kill for them either way, especially for you. He could stare at you all day, swollen with his child.

How glowing you looked wrapped in the finest silk and the gold and jewels in your hair and body clicking upon contact with another piece, he wished he could tell you how utterly speechless you'd leave each man by just walking passed them but to him no word is enough to describe you.

At least he could spend these small intimate moments with just you and you alone, free of the world for even just a few minutes as he needed a break from the work he very much was eager to do to be able to receive praise from his wife..

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo @duck-a-doodle

[verstiledolleee]

I Rather Use Sticks and Stones

Tags: fluff, dad!simon riley, wife!reader, bullying, mention of violence(nothing graphic)

I gathered from the poll that you guys really wanted the whole dad!au so I hope you can enjoy this! :)) cheers! Also sorry it came out so late! I was out with family (⌒-⌒; )

You frustrated at this point, where was he? Where is your son? What the hell even happened. You hoped they’d all been answered by now. You’re husband is trying to get here quickly as possible and you’re son is still in the infirmary…

From what you were told at least, he was trying to defend another little girl during playtime. You hoped that was the honest to god truth. A hulking figure stood behind you, silent and yet so watchful. “Simon? Where have you been?!” You huffed. He patted your shoulder as he sighed. “Got caught up in traffic love.” You shook your head, “At least you’re here…”

“Where is he?” He asked, brows furrowed. “Right here Mr. Riley.” A man said. Your tiny son came out through a side door, bandages and bruises all over his boy. A little pout on his face, with his eyes slightly glossed over. Poor baby..

“Jesus Christ?! What happened? They’re only 8?!” You wheezed out before going to your son, holding his face and looking at him. But his eyes weren’t focused on you, they were focused on his dad. His eyes lingered low as he sniffled. “Sorry..”

You sighed, and held his head. “Well can you please explain what happened?! I mean, look at him!” You grunted at the man which you could only assume was the principal. “Well yes, the other little boy’s parents are already here, we can sit down and chat if you’d like?”

You looked up at Simon, his eyes narrowing down. Gazing and picking apart the man. He could feel the man sweating in fear from here. He wasn’t willing to chat with the brat who decided to pick a fight with his little mini me.

“Fine, I hope they have some common sense.” He grunted, still looking furious. “Alright, no need for insults sir, right this way.”

“No insults my ass…” He mumbled under his breath. You followed the principal inside his office, your son clinging to your side. The boy was sitting on the opposite side, his mother shushing him as he father lays there with anger boiling up in his body.

You sat down with Simon opting to stand up and lean against the wall. Your son sat beside you, lips still pouting and mopping. “Okay, let’s discuss what happened. Your son decided to “defend” another student from your son.”

“Okay, what’s the issue?” Simon spoke up. “Well, we don’t condone violence here and we don’t want to foster that type of environment here.” The mother frowned at you, eyeing you up and down. Her lips pierced downwards as the grip on her son.

His face was beaten up as well, but not as bad as your baby’s face. His lip was busted, a little bit of blood still trickling down. His left eye was black and purple. And his arms has deep scratch marks and tiny yellow bruises on his little bicep.

“Well obviously you do since this little boy here attack my son!” The woman spoke up. You rolled your eyes at the lady, scoffing at her words. “Okay, ladies let’s settle down. Now it’s has come to my attention that your son was trying to defend another student, a little girl.” Simon’s eyes panned down to his son, eyes showing or at least trying to show his respect for his son. All of this lets him know that he raised him right.

“Well I don’t see a problem as well, I think maybe this young man is the problem, not my son. In fact, seems like you’re okay with bullying and harassment.” You spoked up, head raised high and eyes looking into the Principal’s inner soul. “No, no way you’re spinning this onto my sweet angel! He probably just wanted a toy and was a mistake! Your son is just brute!”

If you could jump over the chairs and knock her face off, you could. But your son needs you right now, and wouldn’t risk your son’s happiness over some stupid lady. Suddenly a little voice came up, his words wobbled and churned.

“He pushed her so I pushed him back. That wasn’t very nice of him to make her cry.”

You cooed at him, rubbing the side of his head and kissing his temple. “That was very nice and brave of you. We’re very proud of you.” Your son laid his head on your chest, still sniffing and sobbing quietly. “See!? That type of behavior is why our son got assaulted!” The father of the boy stood up, his face getting heated. Simon’s back came off the wall, his brows furrowed. His position moved from the wall to standing behind your chair.

You felt the sweat leak down your face but your face stayed the same. “ I suggest you’d sit down now. I’d hate to send you packing.” Simon said loudly, his voice commanding the room. “Gentlemen! Please! I’ll be punishing both boys, we just can tolerate someone who starts fights. 5 day for you. And two for him.” He mumbled, the pressure of the room getting to him.

Your son curled further into your side, his lips quivering slightly. “That’s totally unacceptable! This boy is a known bully! He’s picking on girls and trying to start issues for no reason! If anything he is needs to be suspended!” You shouted at the man. The principal’s eyes darted around the room, sallowing his throat.

“No! You will not be turning this onto my son! Your son is aggressive and it clearly shows. He needs to be expelled! That little girl is probably fine and it’s apart of life!” The mother exclaimed back.

You gritted your teeth as you mumbled curses under your breath. “And we clearly see where he gets this behavior from.” The father spat at you. It was very clear to who he was referring. Simon moved further to the boy’s dad, easily towering over him. His realization was obvious in his eyes. He was shaking a bit and his palm were fountains.

“What was that?” Simon’s eyes furrowed downwards, eyes looking down at him. You stood up and pressed Simon’s chest. Slightly pushing him back. “Enough..it’s fine.”

After signing paper. You took your baby back to the car. Schools nowadays have a no fighting policies yet never enforce it correctly and your son has become a victim to it. Walking back to the car, your son held your hand.

“Mama?” He spoke up softly. You hummed at him. Little hiccups erupted his eyes watery and soft. “A-are you and daddy mad at me? I-I didn’t meant to! I just wanted to protect my friend..” Simon bent down to his level. Holding his face. You follow along, holding his hand.

“You did a good thing today son. I’m very proud of you.” He says, voice soften and less harsh. His walls crumble when he sees his son. He sees himself in him. He’s trying to become what his own father can’t achieve.

“You know what? Ice creams on me yeah? Someone as strong as you deserves it.”

Your son’s face lit up as he grabbed his father, clinging closely to him. “Really?!”

“Really.”

[ragingbookdragon]

There’s something about seeing Simon Riley as a dad that makes her heart swell with love and adoration. A man who was so terrified he left for a week straight when she told him about the baby, a man who came back and fell to his knees sobbing, a man who promised her he would never turn into his own father, a man who cried on the day he saw his daughter come into the world, refused to let anyone but him and his wife hold their child.

He’s a bit of a helicopter parent, she’s noticed. He’s awfully glaring at the other children in the daycare center as he sits in the middle of the babies. More than once, he’s swiped her toy dinosaur back from another baby and glared at the boy. He also glares at the other parents when they try to stick their fingers in his daughter’s face or her tummy to see her smile or giggle. He sleeps on the ground next to her crib or has her bassinet next to his side. Buys her whatever she touches in the store because “she obviously wanted it.” She has to alternate feeding and bottles with him because he gets pouty when he can’t bottle-feed her.

It’s endearing, and she’s thankful he’s such a good husband and father who’s more than willing to take on all the work. She wonders momentarily if they’re going to raise a little spoiled monster the way they treat her so far, but when she sees Simon stare at his daughter like she’s the greatest treasure of all, she can’t really bring herself to care much. There’s a softness and such a deep happiness that she’s never seen before in his eyes when she watches her touch Simon’s mask and do the adorable coo, spit dribbling down her chin as she hunches forward and gnaws on his cheek; he likes to call it the perfect kiss.

It's the moment she realizes Simon was meant to be a dad when he redresses their daughter after changing her, puts her socks on, grabs her legs in a gentle grip and pretends to eat her feet until she’s crying with those adorable giggles.

“An’ look what we ‘ave here!” he rumbles with a grin, and she knows he’s smiling beneath his mask. “Someone’s feetsies ready to eatsies!”

She purses her lips, trying not to laugh as she inconspicuously pulls her phone out and records him. Their daughter squeals with laughter as Simon pretends to gnaw on her feet.

“NOM, NOM, NOM, NOM, NOM!” he grumbles loudly and his eyes crinkle around the edges as joy lights up his face. “MY FEETSIES TO EATSIES!”

She begins to laugh, unable to help herself and he looks up at his wife, sees the phone and glares for a second before going back to his daughter who is giggling away, grabbing at his hands, and squealing, “Baba!”

(Of course all credit to the renders above goes to Miss @ave661! If you've never checked out her work, please go do so! She's so wonderfully talented!)

[yawnderu]

cr: @ave661

“I'm tellin' you it wasn't me, love.” Simon shoots you an exasperated look as you eye him suspiciously, eyes narrowing as you try to find the slightest hint of him lying.

“Say that again, sweetheart.” Your eyes soften the moment you look down at your 3 year-old daughter, one of your hands coming up to brush her hair as she looks between you and Simon, a bright smile on her pretty face.

“Daddy bitch.” She repeats, making you look away to hide the way you're trying to hold back your laughter, Simon doing the same the moment your daughter's sweet voice hits his ears.

“Who taught you that?” You manage to ask despite the way a smile is threatening to split your face at any second now, taking a deep breath when she points at Simon. He looks utterly betrayed, knowing fully well that he never cusses in front of his daughter— not since she started saying “bastard” for over a month after she heard him saying it.

“Daddy did?” She nods her head, looking down at the floor, unable to meet your gaze and fidgeting with her hands and feet, clearly lying. You hum softly, crouching down to her level and pretending to think about her words before you decide Simon's punishment.

“I think daddy needs to be visited by the tickle monster.” You whisper in her ear, instantly making her face light up as she nods vigorously. You exchange a look before looking at Simon, running to him with your daughter, watching the way he pretends to plead for mercy as you both tickle him. Simon can't feel anything in the slightest, but for his daughter's amusement? The tickle monster is absolutely killing him, making him pretend to laugh and squirm away from her tiny hands.

[gloomwitchwrites]

i saw a tiktok of a heavily pregnant woman saying “maybe i dont give him butterflies anymore but i do give him high blood pressure” then they walk by their S/O with a latter and power tools. and i have been thinking about how the guys would react ever since

Oh, anon. This is so cute! I love this. I know the trend you're talking about, but I feel like I haven't seen it with pregnant women specifically, but I find it even more hilarious if it is. I had a lot of fun with this one. Thank you for sending it in!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, dad!141, pregnancy, married life, parenthood, domestic fluff

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“Get off the ladder, cabbage.” John exhales, trying his best to keep his voice calm.

You’re standing just high enough on the ladder to rest your pregnant belly on the top rung. John stands directly behind you, both hands firmly planted on either side of you against the rail. It’s not to support the ladder but to catch you if you fall. A potentially likely possibility since you’re carrying extra weight in front of you. You could easily tip back enough to lose your balance.

“I’m fine, John,” you reply, continuing on as if he’s not worrying.

It’s maddening how relaxed you are, like the potential factor of danger is a completely foreign concept.

“Please,” he emphasizes. “Get off the ladder.”

“Why?” you ask. “I’m more than capable.”

“You are,” he agrees. “But you’re also pregnant.”

“So?”

“Cabbage,” warns John.

“Fine,” you exhale.

John keeps his hands on your hips the entire time. When you’re back on solid ground, some of that tension melts away, but his heart still thumps quickly.

You lightly cup his cheek, batting your eyelashes at him. “Were you worried about me, John?”

John places his hand on your belly. “Worried about all three of you.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle sits at the kitchen table, sorting through the mail. With a heavy sigh, he opens the energy bill, removing the paperwork, reading over the breakdown of energy usage for the month.

From his peripheral, Kyle notices movement. Glancing away from the itemized bill, Kyle’s gaze softens when you walk into the kitchen. You’re pregnant, close to your due date. Even waddling around, Kyle can’t seem to keep his hands off you.

He leans back in his chair, appreciating you for a few languid seconds, then his heart drops into his stomach.

“Damn it all. Put that down, love.”

Kyle shoots out of his chair, trying to calmly but quickly make it over to you.

“I’m fine,” you insist, attempting to walk by. “I can assemble it.”

“No.” Kyle’s tone is firm but gentle. “Give it here.”

His heart is pounding, anxiety spiking from not just the power drill you carry, but the cardboard box full of wood you’re attempting to guide down the hall.

“You sit here.” He points to the chair. “Sort the mail. I’ve got this.”

You slowly ease down into the chair, and Kyle breathes deep, trying to calm his nerves. “Bloody hell, woman,” he mutters.

John "Soap" MacTavish

He hears your footsteps first, and then your voice as you curse under your breath.

Johnny lounges on the sofa, reclining against a fluffy pillow. At his feet are his two-year old twin daughters. On the television, a Bluey episode plays. The girls aren’t watching. They’re smashing their dolls together and running them over with the yellow toy excavator.

Sitting up, Johnny glances over the top of the couch

At first, he smiles. Then frowns. Then launches himself off the couch.

“Put it down,” commands Johnny. “Drop it.” He steps on a doll and winces, wobbling slightly.

You turn toward him, pregnant belly coming into view. You’re carrying a ladder, the large one, and you’re not supposed to be lifting anything over a certain weight.

“Down,” he repeats. “Put it down.”

You roll your eyes and turn away. Johnny makes it to you quickly, grabbing the ladder and placing it on the floor.

“What are you thinking?” he asks. “You’re bloody pregnant.”

“Don’t yell at me.”

“I’m—I’m not yelling,” soothes Johnny, cupping your face in his hands. “But you gave me a right scare, yeah?” He kisses your forehead. “I’ll take care of it. Go sit with the girls.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon is curled up on the sofa, a precious bundle in his lap. His two-year old daughter rests her head against his chest, gaze focused on the colorful pages.

“He started to look for some food,” reads Simon from The Very Hungry Caterpillar. “On Monday he ate through one apple.” His daughter traces the outline of the apple, and then runs her finger over the caterpillar. “But he was still hungry.”

As Simon turns the page, he hears your soft but determined footsteps. He briefly looks away from the book, his gaze falling on your belly, round and full of his child. Inwardly, he smiles, knowing that the family you’ve created together is about to grow by one.

“On Tuesday he ate through two pears,” continues Simon. “But he was still—”

His voice disappears, and his stomach flips, blood pressure spiking as he watches you turn the corner. You have a step stool tucked under your arm and a drill in your hand.

“Goddamn it,” he mutters, lifting his daughter out of his lap and placing her on the sofa. “Daddy will be back shortly, doll.”

He kisses the top of her head, and then takes off after you. With the added weight, your steps are slow, and it only takes Simon a few strides to walk past you and cut you off before you make it to the nursery.

“What are you doing?” he asks, reaching for the drill.

“Hanging a painting,” you reply like it’s no big deal.

Simon sighs. “Give it here.”

“I can do it,” you insist, turning away from his reaching hands.

Simon plucks the drill out of your hand and holds it out of reach. “Give me the step stool.” With a pout, you surrender it. “Gonna give me a bloody heart attack.”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @suhmie @z-wantstowrite @kylies-love-letter @keiva1000

@iloveslasher @ravenpoe67 @sadlonelybagel @nishim @arrozyfrijoles23

@voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @sageyxbabey @glassgulls @miaraei

@weasleytwins-41 @eternallyvenus @chaostwinsofdestruction @cherryofdeath @ninman82

@fern-reads @waves-against-a-cliff @beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx

@jianyi22 @sethell @atpeacee @konigssweatyhood @dreamingoftomorrow

@katerinaval @morguethemagpie @galactict3a @sarah-the-bird-nerd @mikachu-bitez

@unclearblur @kurochan3 @sans-chara @hisuccubus @all-by-myself98

@km-ffluv @thriving-n-jiving

[bruhhxiao]

KISSES

You finished night chores in the kitchen after dinner and Simon was laying in bed “enjoying” Manchester match alone, since you were too loud 🙄

Once you get in bed too you toke a look at the screen.

“Unlucky one?” You say softly sitting next to him, he was grumpy, so you kissed him.

He signed not kissing you back, so you give him two more but he leans his head on the side ignoring you.

“C’mon the match is over.”

“No, it’s not. 3 minutes left.” He says pushing your head out of the way.

You kissed him again and again and then again, leaving sweet pecks on his lips. The match was over and he was listening to the after match conference.

“So you’re into this old man more than me? Give me one kiss!” He sighed and bought his lazy hand behind your head pulling you down for a short stamp.

“One more…” You say leaning closer and he kisses you back.

“A bit more…” as you said that he pulls you in a passionate kiss, a slow one.

After you broke the kiss and try to sit back like before, he grabs your arm pulling you down next to him kissing you a few times as he slowly positions himself on top of you.

“Simon it’s already 11:00 pm- Mhh~” he cuts you off.

“Now you got me in the mood, so shut up” he said with his nose against yours looking into your loving eyes before kissing you passionately.

[temeyes]

biker dad ghost? yes.

[docdudo]

MASTERLIST

Here's a list to better organize the drafts i have written:

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader

Parts In Order:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Asks:

People Sizes

House Sizes

Nesting For Humans

Werewolves' Hands

Can They Reach Door Handles?

Human Babies - 1

Human Babies - 2

Reader Getting Sick

Life Expectancy

Home Alone

Who They Prefer?

Sharing Food

Their Kids

Hybrid Games

Playing On The Snow

Running Away

Hate Touch

Spicy Food

Service Hybrids

Oral Fixation

Broken Ankle

Ghost's mask

Flying with Gaz

Abusive House Hold

Their Kids - 2

Plushies and Preening

Periods

Mimicking Their Sounds

Familiar 141 - Young Witch!Reader

Parts In Order:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Asks:

Familiar Sizes

Taunts

A Witch's Birth

Relationship Between Familiars And Witches

Do They Know How To Take Care Of Children?

Species

Death and Bonds

What Are Familiars?

What's Their Relationship Like?

Vampire 141 - Fledgling!Reader

Parts In Order:

Part 1

Asks:

Shock

Feeding

Venom

Fic Arts?

Foster child!reader with dad wraith!Ghost

Foster child!reader with dad wraith!Ghost (Black ver.)

Art On The Banner: @bluegiragi

Profile Picture: Me (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)