#dad ghost

[drifting-along-cai]

Ghost Head Cannons||: Dad Life - Newborn Edition

( No Gender specified for Kiddo or User )

Dad!Simon, who just can't stop staring at his little baby as he holds them in his arms, even when he passes them back to you, he can't stop staring at the little bundle, his head resting on your shoulder.

Dad!Simon, who did cry silently with joy when he was alone with them, processing the fact he's actually got a little family of his own, the possibility once seeming so far from him.

Dad!Simon, who's more than used to staying up long nights, happily taking up the nightshifts while you get proper rest, not letting you take more than needed.

Dad!Simon, who remembers how to change diapers after helping care for his late nephew, so there's no debate when the time comes to it and you're busy.

Dad!Simon, who talks to the kid like he would another grown person, like they'll understand or retain any of rants he shares "'M only sayin', Price keeps trustin' yer Uncle Johnny to handle the recruits, we're only gonna get a army of Johnny's and I can barely handle one as it is." *Baby makes a low noise or flails a tiny hand* "Y'know that's exactly what he did, toss a hand and gruff at me when I told 'im that, but 'M tellin' you, it's just gonna be a headache at the end of it."

Dad!Simon, who goes about the trouble of finding "excuses" to hang out with his own kid, always cooking or helping clean with them in his arms when he has the chance to, "Look at you, layin' about like yer gonna live rent free forever. Oh no, you and I are gonna do some work round the house together, start you early on how things are run here."

Dad!Simon, who, yes, does explain every recipe and chore to the baby. You're not quite sure if he's legitimate about it or it's for his own amusement, but he looks happy anyways.

[writersdrug]

Dad!Ghost, but his two girls are so picky with everything they eat. It's a struggle for the both of you to convince them to eat their vegetables - the only success you've had is cooking broccoli and cauliflower until it's fall-apart tender, and slathering it in butter. Maybe you can sneak a few cooked, blended vegetables into their spaghetti sauce, but they're Simon's girls - they know when something's up. They try to bargain and make ultimatums with him at the dinner table, but he doesn't budge an inch, of course. Says something like "eat your vegetables or no Tangled for a month", which makes them reconsider.

Of course, your youngest son will eat anything - no qualms whatsoever. He was barely started on solids and he'd eat bites of steamed eggplant and peas like they were popcorn. Of course he has his favorites; he had a meltdown once, when Simon turned away from the dinner table to pick up the fork your son dropped, only to lift his head and find the little bugger had grabbed the rest of a medium-rare steak off of his dad's plate, attempting to eat it like a true caveman (the apple really didn't fall far from the tree). Didn't let it go or stop crying until Simon put a yogurt pop in his tiny hand.

("Mummy doesn't need to know about this, 'kay?")

[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

[sgrplumditz]

You had his baby and he didn't know (Pt. 2)

A/N: Thank you for all the positive feedback! I am so beyond grateful that you guys enjoyed the 1st part. I never fathomed to get this much attention from my first post, which means I didn’t really intend on making a part 2. But with such gratitude and motivation… here it is!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

She had told him everything, and through it all he did nothing but soothe her, keeping her small hands in his as her soft voice filled their ears. It wasn't until now that she had realized how absurd it was to feel nervous to tell him the story of her unaccompanied pregnancy, and her introduction to motherhood.

Like herself, he also held no resentment, or distaste toward the secrecy behind the conception and birth of their beautiful baby girl. Simon's only intention was to understand her and her decision to keep their child a secret from him, but in the midst of her reminiscent disclosure he couldn't help but feel alienated, guilty and a rollercoaster of many other emotions revolving her and his daughter.

His usually hard, and stoic gaze had softened for her -- which wasn't an unusual occurrence for him when it came to her, the mother of his child. "Hey, you're alright" he soothed when he noticed a stray tear race down her soft cheek. His thumb instinctively coming up to stop the salty drop of emotion in its track, and likewise she instinctively leaned into the feeling of his large hand that cupped the side of her face.

The moment was tender, intimate, comforting -- it was everything that she craved from him from the moment she found out she was carrying their child. Their baby girl seemed to be emotionally connected to her mother. The sound of her fuss and whimpering coming from the playpen where she had been placed to rest. Both her and Simon's attention was drawn to the infant the moment her restful cooing was replaced with the sounds of discomfort. Her mother knew that she was most likely hungry, but her father, Simon seemed to only be alarmed by the sudden crying. It was evident that his protective nature had taken over -- a quality of his that could not be tamed or ever be put to rest.

"She's just hungry, Si" she spoke, breaking the silence between the two. The melancholy aura of the room immediately being lifted as she chuckled softly at his high alert behavior as it only reminded her of the first few nights that she was home from the hospital with her daughter.

As she normally would she gently picked up their daughter, making sure to keep a firm hand on the back of her neck to support it. Her maternal nature was in full effect as she spoke sweet and soft words to the baby girl. Her cries being soothed, and her simple mind now distracted at the sight and sound of her mother. Simon watched this all divulge in front of him. He didn't know whether his heart ached because he had missed hundreds of moments like these or if he felt such sorrow because he didn't share the same bond with the tiny being that he helped create.

He let his the thoughts and endless "'what if" possibilities consume his mind while she prepared a bottle with the infant still resting in her arm. She was small, measuring out the length of her mother's forearm. Normally she would make the bottle with ease, but as time went by and the baby girl grew, the process slowed down. She was careful and calculated making sure that the baby was always safe in her arms.

"I can take her if you're alright with it" spoke Simon in a mildly nervous tone. “It’d make it easier for you to prepare her bottle, yeah?” he spoke again, using the feeding time as an excuse to finally hold their daughter. But he was nervous? Simon doesn’t get nervous. He has always been incredibly calm and collected to the point of mastering stoicism. He wasn’t nervous to hold the infant — that was the less of his worries.

There were so many special events that he had missed while he was away. Core memories that he doesn’t have with her or her mother. He missed the pregnancy, the first kicks, the birth, the first powerful cries from her little lungs, the first feed from her mother’s full and lactating breasts, the first skin-to-skin contact —which he read was essential for bonding in newborns, the dad walk out of the hospital after being discharged as a family — the one where he knew his overprotective nature would automatically take over.

So many factors playing into the aggregation of his nerves, but there was a single one that was keeping him on edge the most. Simon was nervous that he wouldn’t be able to bond with the small and fragile being that shared half of his DNA. Being absent for so many critical events made him doubtful in his ability to be and feel like a genuine father. All of his nerves dwindling down and relying on this very moment.

But none of it mattered. The pessimistic thoughts that lingered in his brain practically disintegrating. As if the warmth of his daughter’s small body destroyed every doubtful fiber in his own. She was no longer just his biological daughter, but a part of him. His soul was tied to hers, his emotions was connected to hers, his breath was for her. His entire being was engulfed by her.

The baby adjusted herself in his broad, tattooed and muscular arm by leaning her small face into his chest, as if she sensed some sort of familiarity in him. Like mother like daughter.

She watched their entire interaction curiously. She saw his hardened exterior breakdown at the moment their daughter’s infant body fit into his arm like a puzzle piece. It was obvious. Just like she felt her daughter was made for her, she was just as equally made for him. The instant connection between the father and daughter was electric. This was everything she had wanted and more.

She always knew Simon would be a great father — he was a great guy after all — he was attentive, protective, polite, masculine, and so much more, but she never fathomed that it would have been as magnifying as she felt it to be.

Simon’s gaze turned to her and she swore she saw his eyes glistening, tears threatening to spill. No words were exchanged between the two, but she knew exactly what he was feeling and thinking. As their daughter’s mother, she felt those exact emotions as well.

She was then engulfed by his scent. His arms embracing the two most important girls in his life, but it was not just a typical embrace of joy — it was firm, passionate and filled with urgency. He needed them.

With their daughter still resting in his arm, he used his free hand to remove a stray strand of hair from her face before he firmly cupped it. A soft kiss landing on her forehead.

He pressed his forehead to hers and exhaled softly before breaking the silence, “I am so proud of you” he said — his english accent thick and correlating respectively with how emotional he was.

“I am so proud of you” he repeated again, “but you are never doing anything like this alone. We do it together. As a family”.

[obsessivelullabies]

being simon riley’s housewife: pregnancy!

part one.

— when you first told simon you were pregnant, he had to sit down. he was feeling so many emotions; joy, anxiety, infatuation. mainly, he was overjoyed he’d gotten the love of his life pregnant. to him, it was almost like the final way to solidify your bond.

— he soon wrapped you up in his arms and gently kissed your forehead, immediately his hand wandered down to your belly, despite it being flat at the time. this became a habit.

— the first few weeks, he started becoming overly protective and worrisome. “.. you sure you can eat that with the baby?”, “what if somethin’ happened to ‘em in there?” and most commonly, “you feelin’ ok, lovie?”.

— he is at your beck and call. you’re up early throwing up? he’s up holding your hair and rubbing your back. you want takeout? course, what do you want? you want a foot rub? ok. anything for you.

— simon’s whole day revolves around you and pampering you. he’s always looming in the background. you’ll probably have to beg him to leave the house alone.

— as you progress into your pregnancy, his worrying only gets worse. he worries about being a good father. he doesn’t feel ready. yet, when he looks at you, he feels everything will be okay.

— when he’s not deployed he’s at every doctor’s appointment. he keeps a sonogram of the baby in his wallet, alongside a photo of you.

— even during sex, he’s much more gentle than usual. as if he’s terrified he’ll harm you or the baby. this is something you have to gently reassure him about.

— simon absolutely adores it when your belly gets all swollen. he loves go rub his hands on it and kiss it. he constantly tries to feel for kicks or any movement.

— when it comes to baby names, he isn’t picky at all. he’s fine with almost anything. after all, you’re the one carrying it, so he’s indifferent.

— as you go through labor, he’s nervously holding your hand and trying his best to silently be supportive no matter if you curse him, the nurses or the doctor. whatever you need, he understands.

— the moment simon got to hold his healthy, sweet baby, he felt like he fell in love all over again. he glanced between you and the baby. his heart swelled. he knew he had a family with you, something he’d lost years ago.

bonus : simon would be ecstatic if you allowed him to name your baby girl after his late mother. he’d smile to himself, the terrible memory of his mother’s passing becoming a sweet name of remembrance. [if this makes no sense, read his backstory!]

masterlist. | requests are open!

[bertieorangy]

[Ghost retired from military and now is a father, he adopted a child, the child ⇒ you]

Simon, reading newspapers :

Kid!Y/N : dad! Dad!

Simon : what is it, little bee?

Kid!Y/N, struggling to climb up on the armchair : what do you used to work as, before you retired? :O

Simon : *doesn’t want to tell them that he used to be in the military*

Simon : well… I used to hunt aliens

Kid!Y/N, giggling, showing off a missing tooth : aliens don’t exist, silly!

Simon, smiling : have you ever seen an alien?

Kid!Y/N : ……no 🫢

Simon, gently pinching ur cheek : you’re welcome

[maskedmenmakemeferal]

Daddy Daughter day

As you and Simons daughter -Lily- gets older, the more he mourns how she was when she was young. She was all bright eyed and would cling to Simon every change she could.

But now, she’s 14 and that once close relationship is crumbling away.

Now, it’s not like she’s a bad kid. She gets good grades and is always respectful to you two. She’s just…..not as eager to hang out with Simon.

After another Friday night of her hanging out with her friends, Simon’s at home stewing.

There’s a rerun of Lily and his favorite movie and now he’s too pissy to enjoy it. He’s grumbling something along the lines of ‘Im too sad to watch it’.

You roll your eyes and smile. “Si. You know Lily loves to spend time with you. Just not like how she used to.”

“‘Ts bullshit, birdie. She doesn’t even want to go to car shows w’ me.”

“She never wanted to. She hated going to those, but she knew it made you happy.”

He furrows his blonde eyebrows in disbelief. ‘No way.’ He thinks. ‘His best memories with his daughter couldn’t be due to her wanting to please him.’

“Come on, Si. You just need to do stuff that appeals to 14 year old Lily, not 7 year old Lily.” You gently rub his shoulders.

So, that’s how he ended up at the mall with Lily, 200£ and a goal to spend time with his daughter.

She flits around from store to store, blabbering about the things in them.

Simon couldn’t care less, but now it’s time for him to suck it up and deal with his boredom.

They eventually end up at the food court and he gets some pretzels. He hands one to Lily, who chose a table towards the back.

Eventually, after a few minutes of awkward silence, they see a poster for their favorite movie from when she was a kid.

Standing right in front of it are her friends. She looks away, worried they’d spot her hanging out with her dad.

“Wha’s wrong?” Simon squints a bit, knowing she’ll try to bullshit him.

“Nothin’. Jus’ thought I saw someone I knew.” Simon looks over at her friends.

“Worried they’d see you with your ol’ man, eh?” Even though his voice sounds joking, it isn’t. He is really hurt over feeling like an embarrassment to his kid.

“No, no. It’s just….their dads are kind of…..pricks. And I don’t want them to be upset I have such a cool one.”

Simon can tell she’s fucking with him on this. Sure, he’s met her friends dads and they are kind of assholes, but he definitely isn’t cool.

“If ya’ so embarrassed ‘bout hanging out with me, go.” He gets up and walks away. People move away from his fuming form like he’s on fire.

He gets a ticket for that movie, a last ditch effort to remind him of a simpler time. He sits down, crossing his arms and having a small pout on his lips.

The cheesy comedy movie begins and it doesn’t help. He still feels like an asshole. He knows he got a bit sensitive about Lily not wanting to hang out with him and he became a dick.

30 minutes into the movie, someone opens the door and comes in. It’s Lily with tears rolling down her cheeks.

She sits down a few seats away, clearly not knowing what to do to make it right. But Simon knows she’s trying. He moves a seat closer, and so does she, until eventually their next to eachother.

“‘M sorry you think ‘m embarrassed of you.” She sniffles and whispers.

“‘M sorry I made you feel like a dick for growing up.” He wraps a burly arm around her and gently hugs her tight.

They watch the movie, talking about how shitty the quality is and how predictable the ending is.

But, this is Simons new favorite memory.

Why?

Because. His baby girl is finally spending time with him again.

And that’s perfect to him.

[sleepyeepyp3rson]

boydad!simon riley

an: this is HEAVILY inspired by @whateveriwant and their girl dad simon headcanons, if you find this alright, you should totally go read theirs!!!

(masterlist)

Simon Riley who teaches your son "real football" but lets your kid win every time, regardless if he played by the rules or not.

Simon Riley who rough houses with your son, and is totally fine with being used as a jungle gym.

Simon Riley who makes time to go to everything your son does, from parent night to performances or sports games. But feels terrible when he can't make it.

Simon Riley who would never tell your son not to wear makeup or pursue theater. The same goes for anything else that's traditionally not "for guys." He couldn't care less as long as he's not hurting anyone.

Simon Riley who tells the worst dad jokes on purpose just to annoy you and your son, and if he joins his dad in the jokes, Simon's ecstatic.

Simon Riley who texts your son everyday once he moves out, and sends him those awful minon memes to annoy him.

Simon Riley who doesn't care who his son loves, his son better be treating them like royalty. Simon would also treat them like family immediately but would give them the "don't hurt my little boy" talk.

[writingoddess1125]

Over Achiever

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x FemReader

This is just Corny Corn Fluff!

Enjoy!

Next Part >>>

Support me on Ko-Fi!

Sitting on your couch you stared at the stack of papers before you in total shock- it was suppose to be a simple checkup.. not something like this.

You especially felt unsure since your husband wasn't here- He should have been here for something as important as this.. However his missions were important for the world- That and its what you signed up for when you married Simon 'Ghost' Riley.

You and Simon had been married for 3 years and dated for nearly 5 before then, Meeting at a resturant you owned when he showed up during leave to grab some take away. That was the humble start to a beautiful and gentle relationship the two of you shared.

You two had every conversation in the book about what you both expected in life and what the plans were.. This however was not one of them..

"Fuck- I've got to tell him.."

It was still a good month out till he returned and didn't use his phone while out on missions so you knew it was off in his pocket- he needed to know however.. so you figured a letter would be fine- it would be a cute and easiest way so he wasnt surprised with a heart attack when he got home and saw you like that... jumping to your feet you grab the car keys quickly and rushed to the closest store and then the post office- How bad could it be anyway?

WEEK LATER

On the other side of the world Ghost leaned against an outdoor wall, they were just back from their latest mission and had a cool down before the next one.

He missed you- terribly.. he missed his home and truthfully didn't want to be sweating his arse off when he could be with you. It surprised him in truth, before he used missions to escape the idea of a home- However now he was excited to return home... to you.

Simon was still highly secretive however so no one knew he was married, besides Price who had been invited to the wedding. He had to protect you, his little slice of sunshine in a overall dark life.

"Riley, you've got a letter" Price called out snapping the man from his thoughts, Ghost surprised to hear this- He never really got mail even from you since he insisted it was emergency only to avoid any information leaks.

Stepping forward quickly he grabbed the pale blue envelope- Soap now also curious as he peaked at his Lieutenant.

"Oh? Someone special?" Soap teased, however curiosity burning in his gaze.

Rolling his eyes Ghost opened the letter and saw a tiny plain card, a spike of anxiety hitting his chest as he slowly opened the card and felt the air suddently sucked directly from his lungs.

The team watched Ghost eyes widen like big blue saucers, worry now blanketing the group as Ghost closed the card and then opened it again like to confirm.

"Eh, Lieutenant?.. You alright there?" Soap said softly as he stepped forward to touch the man's shoulder. Price and Gaz also getting closer to see if the masked man was okay-

"Y-Yes I'm fine.. move" He grunted out, the men stepping back as Ghost went to step forward before passing out misstep and falling into the dirt.

"Holy Fuck!!" They all yelled as Ghost fashionably face planted into the dirt and Soap and Gaz scrambling to help the man to his legs which had seemed to suddently turn to jello- Ghost wobbling up as his mass seemed to suddently be too much for him, dropping the paper into the dirt which Price quickly scooped up to keep from getting damaged.

"Take him to the medical bay" Price said quickly as they could hear Ghost muttering something about a van and other random shit- worried their hardened killer had finally lost his mind as they dragged him off to the medbay.

Price holding the card in hand and cracking open to take a peak at what just laid out his Lieutenant-

Congratulations!

You Over Achiever!

Si I'm pregnant and they are triplets!

You over achieving Ass-!!!

I love you and can't wait to see you home!

- Love (Y/N) ♡

The ultrasound picture with the clearly labeled 1,2,3 in red over the black and white images. Price couldnt help but crack a smile and chuckle softly as he closed the card- Looking as he saw Ghost still being rushed to the medical bay.

"I'll be damned-"

A tiny cornerstore card had knocked out one of the world's best solders.

[urfavpillow-princess10]

Girl dad Simon riley.

Who when his daughter came home from school crying because a little boy in her class pulled her hair, he dressed in his militarily uniform and dropped her off at school the next day. Walking into the school with her. His massive frame towering over everyone, teachers and students. The little boy saw the little girl and instead of picking on her he looked up at Simon. His face immediately dropping realizing that was her dad. Oh the look in Simons eyes, the poor kid was lucky Simon couldn’t kill him.

A shorter one bc idk what to write recently and I’m tired😭

[blingblong55]

Isn't she lovely? -141

Based on a request: simon riley who is a girls dad and his daughter comes home upset one day and very quiet. it goes on like this for the week but not only does he notice but his friends, the taskforce 141 as they are close with simon's family. they get super worried as she's usually happy and brings light into the room but now she's avoiding eye contact, speaking, and jokes. realize she's being bullied at school and they go to the school to "deal" with the situation and make this whole pink themed tea party to make her feel better. ---- No mentions of reader, dad!ghost, fluff, uncles!141 ----

Task Force 1-4-1 is not just a badass team on the field with all those cruel people but also dads and the best uncles any kid could ask for. It's funny, they always joked about those stupid dates they were set up on or the way one of them was getting married and as the years go by they all retire one by one, finding themselves becoming one big family.

Today, at their monthly family dinner, Simon and his lovely wife find themselves hosting the dinner. Their two youngest kids running around with their cousins and Soap's wife, the most energetic aunt of all. "Where's the little one?" Price asks as the oldest child of the group was nowhere in the home. Usually, she'd sit near her uncles and they'd pamper her for being the first and favourite of all kids…but don't tell that to the others.

"School, my missus is picking her up," Simon says before taking a sip from his drink.

And once his pretty wife arrives, his daughter follows along. Her greeting to her aunts and uncles was dry, with no usual jokes or funny comments towards Uncle Soap's long mohawk.

"Wow..stop there, kid, come back," Gaz says but the 8-year-old ignores him.

It's fascinating how these so-called cold-hearted men have turned soft for their loves and little loves. So, if one of them is hurt, the guns and bombs come back just for a moment.

"What happened to 'er?" Soap asks Simon's wife and she sighs. "A boy in her class made fun of her leather jacket and pink dress, she's been like this since I picked her up," she says and Simons sighs in frustration. "Who is the kid?" Simon asks and his wife gives him a knowing look. Headmasters kid, of course.

"I'm going after that little shit," Simon says and as he gets up from the sofa, the other men follow along.

"Simon, no, don't do that-" "My daughter is a cool kid, if she wants to wear a leather jacket like her dad and her pink dress then she will and that fuckin' kid won't make her question how cool she is," he says through gritted teeth.

The four men make their way to the school.

"Are they going to hurt a kid?" Price's wife asks. "Maybe the dad, but not a kid," Soap's wife says.

An hour later, more than they should've taken, the burly men come back. A small smile appears on the soft face of Simon's daughter. "Daddy!" She runs to him.

The four men wearing pink tiaras, pink fluffy tutus and even some pink shirt Soap found at the store. "Cool dads wear pink," the shirt says and although they were tight shirts, their wives have to admit, they look awesome wearing them.

Simon picks his daughter up, "Like my outfit princess?" he kisses her forehead. "It's like mine!" she smiles and Simon nods. "We were jealous that you had to outshine us this way, so…we had to outshine you," he smiles.

"Now, go get your hair up, we'll serve the boring people food and for us five…we'll hold a tea party before dinner," he smiles as he watches his precious daughter's face light up. There she is and her smile.

It was cute and funny, but beautiful enough to have pictures of this moment.

They were truly family men now and that's what anyone would wish for, even if it included tiaras and a sassy uncle.

At a small table, where their knees hit their chest, the four former SAS soldiers sat around, getting served tea and crumpets by a special little princess.

Tags: @liyanahelena @uniquecroissant

[gothghostiie]

HAIII! I love you're work soooo much! I had a little idea for you btw!

So imagine girl dad Simon and readers baby girl. They get her ears peirced and she crys HYSTERICALLY. (Bonus of reader feels so bad that they cry with her baby! :()

Remember to drink water and eat please! An apple a day keeps the doctor away!💗

thank you sm darling!! same for you, eat and stay hydrated <3

and I can so see that. poor little girl wanting and begging to have her ears pierced like mommy and daddy but she gets so scared:( shes sobbing as she sees the needle, clinging to her mom who starts crying too, in the end you need to sit on Simon's lap with her in your lap 😭

[mactavishsgfandwife]

Dad!Simon Takes Your Daughter Swimming 🧸

i’ve started taking adult swimming lessons recently because i literally forgot how to swim 😭 it’s so fun tho and i’m good at it now that i’ve jogged my memory pure fluff! just simon being a good daddy (i love him as a girl dad it just makes sense)

Walking out of the changing rooms, you hold your daughter’s hand at the edge of the swimming pool, looking about for her father who seems to be taking his sweet time getting his trunks on. For the mean time, you focus on controlling your hyper little girl. Her hair bounces over her shoulders as she jumps up and down excitedly in her pink kiddie wetsuit - almost giving you a heart attack every time she makes a sudden movement, for fear that she’ll slip. In that anxious state, a tall, military man wrapping a strong hand around your waist almost makes you cry out from shock.

"Hello, love," he tries to hide his chuckle at how he made you jump, planting a soft kiss on your temple.

"God, Si, you scared me!" you laugh, still a little breathless, as his toddler starts to whine and tug your hand towards the pool, her arms somewhat restricted by her small yellow armbands.

"Hey, relax," he whispers into your ear softly, taking a moment to calm your anxieties. Oh, and he thinks he’s being smooth and subtle when he checks you out, but he’s definitely not - not that you care. When he sees your tensed shoulders gently start to ease up, he lifts the baby up into the air and steps down into the pool with her, making her shriek in joy. You giggle to yourself, silently noting how your husband chose not to wear that plain black tshirt. He almost always reaches for it when you go swimming, in an attempt to hide his scary scars from the little kids and to retain some of the comfort that he finds in covering himself - the same comfort he finds in his mask. But today, he was just in his trunks, and you couldn’t help but appreciate the sight of his warm, broad back as he held your little daughter on her tummy in the shallow end, encouraging her to "kick!" and "swim to daddy, sweetheart."

With one hand on your stomach, you gently lower yourself down the pool ladder - your back faced away from it to give your (still small) pregnant stomach some room to breathe. Watching you slowly descend into the pool, Simon lifts your three year old up onto his chest so that her chubby cheek is squished against his shoulder, and swims over to you. The little girl babbles and kicks her soft legs, convinced that it will help them move faster, making simon chuckle and plant a little kiss on her forehead before he stops next to you.

"Y’okay?" a firm but gentle hand supports your lower back as you finally land your feet on the bottom of the pool. When you’re down, that same hand wraps further around your back to lightly caress your stomach, the baby in Si’s arms still babbling and trying to swim away like a mermaid (she can’t actually swim).

"’Course I am," you grin, spirit lifted by your family and by the way the water supports your belly, taking some of the pressure off of your tender body.

"Daddy’s been teaching you how to swim, has he?" you let your body float, Simon still holding both of his girls close to him in the water.

"Can swim! I can swim! Swim!" your little girl squeals, her energy shining through her purple goggles, that would leave little rings around her eyes for a few hours after she took them off

"You gonna show Mummy how well you can swim..?" your husband grins. He gently loosens his grip around her, his hands never actually leaving her sides but still not restricting her freedom of movement.

With her new-found freedom, your daughter starts to giggle and kick her legs, chubby arms flailing and splashing water everywhere.

"Swim!” she squeals, wriggling and kicking, simon gently nudging her back upright when she loses her balance, "can swim! Daddy, can swim!"

"That’s right, baby," Simon coos, a little smile growing on the face that’s typically so rugged and serious. He’s so proud. <33

i hope this was up to standard! tysm for all the love on the last dad!si post!!! i want to do my next one on her falling over (inspired by this video) bc omg imagine him cuddling his little girl and kissing her knee better 😣😣😣

thanks for reading!!

@minimimmies as promised x

[sgrplumditz]

Simon falls for Johnny’s wife…

render by @ave661

a/n: I’ve been working on this for a hot minute, but ended up having it sit in my drafts for a couple months :(. these images were released and it definitely struck a chord in my delulu mind. hence why i decided to finish it..

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"I've got a bad feeling about this one, Johnny," she said to the Scott with a shaky breath. Their toddler clinging to his mother's leg while keeping a tight grip on his father's finger. His little hand too small to grip the entirety of his hand.

She couldn’t help but notice his worrisome sigh as he looked for the comforting words, "Eh, don't you worry, Darling. I always come back don't I?" he replied enthusiastically as he embraced her figure, his chin resting on the top of her head and his free hand caressing the back of his son’s head. Johnny always knew how to comfort her, but she couldn’t shake her nervousness and doubtful thoughts as he said goodbye to her husband and the father of her only child.

The memory of their final interaction as a family replayed in her head continuously as the rain created soft tapping noises on her black umbrella. The pattering of the water creating an almost hypnotizing effect on the new widow that kept her mind on the only aspect that was left of her late husband -- memories.

The toddler, a three-year-old boy, who like most of the time clung to his mother's body. Except this time he was fully embracing his mother, his little face placed into the crook of her neck as the pair stood together at the outdoor memorial service. She could only stare blankly at the urn that held the remains of the love of her life. Through her observant stare she took note of the simple, yet lovely set up of white roses, numerous awards and medals. All of which surrounded a framed photo of her Johnny — her favorite photo. A candid picture snapped of the blue eyed, dark haired man by his wife — the woman he kept a secret from his work life. Not out of shame, or malicious secrecy — Johnny loved his wife and his child. Love them so much that he couldn’t be bothered ever putting them in any sort of danger.

She could feel numerous pairs of eyes prying into her and her son as she stood amongst the medium sized crowd of individuals. She assumed all of them were teammates, Co-workers, or people simply paying their respects. she knew he was a highly decorated soldier, but he was far more than that. None of them knew about his personal life, and nobody knew about the widow and small boy he had left behind. Nobody but Captain John Price knew about Soap’s little family. In confidence, Soap had asked Price to maintain word of his wife and son under the rug of the sake of their safety. Although they were hidden, he always carried pieces of them with him wherever he went — attached to his dog tags were two small and silver flat pendants that had been engraved with his wife and son’s fingerprint, his wedding band usually accompanying them on the same chain whenever he was deployed.

When Johnny was home he never removed his ring. He would often complain about how difficult and stubborn the piece of jewelry was when it came time to remove it for work. Johnny thought he was as discrete as he could be when it came to protecting the two most important people in his life, but there was a certain masked individual who took notice of the tan line that marked his left ring finger, the sudden dark under eyes and disheveled appearance that started 3 years ago when they would meet early in the morning for briefings, and when he caught sight of a vomit stain decorating the left shoulder of his black t-shirt — he just wasn’t one to pry.

Those same observant eyes were glued to the grieving widow and the blue-eyed toddler.

Her mind was pulled out of thoughts as Price approached her with a warm and tender expression in his eyes. In his hands were the dog tags, along with his keepsakes of his beloveds and in a small box was the wedding band. All of his personal belongings packed neatly into a box. Price knew he didn’t have to say anything to her for her to know that he was paying his respects to Johnny’s wife. Prior to the memorial service she had made it clear to Price that she wanted him to keep his ashes. She found they would get at least some closure from releasing them.

As Price drew her small frame in for a polite hug her son grew restless in her arms. She knew he was too young to understand that his father was gone, but it was clear that he was uncomfortable and upset from the lack of him. "Mama, it's cold" he fussed as he smushed his face farther onto her neck, "and your feet are getting wet. You're gonna catch a cold". She gave Price an apologetic smile as she turned her attention to her son now — Price had taken it as a signal to retreat. He now stood with two other men.

She couldn't help but smile at the innocence and kindness that exuded from her son. She gently patted his back to soothe his discomfort, "How about we get out of here and get some lunch?" she tried to speak in her most joyful tone, but even then it was coated in sorrow. The boy did not catch on to her somber response, and instead eagerly nodded his head as he perked up to look at his mother. That is when she realized how similar their son, Samuel, looked to his father. He mirrored him in nearly every aspect -- the eye shape and color, the dark hair, and even the mannerisms were similar. This could all be a fragment of her imagination -- she thought. Maybe it was part of her grieving process. She missed him so much that she began to look for him and could only find him perfectly in their Sammie. She was so consumed by her thoughts, that she had not realized the single salty tear that slipped out of her eye and down her cheek. Samuel hated to see his mother cry, he quickly brought his tiny hands up to her cheek and wiped it away with a slightly heavy palm. Usually, he would verbally comfort her — as best as a toddler could do, but all he did was lean forward to place a gentle kiss on his mother's forehead, "This always makes you feel better when Daddy does it". Does -- in present tense.

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She could not tolerate being at the memorial service for much longer, and neither could Samuel. She had buckled him into his car seat and handed him a strawberry and banana squeezable fruit pack and crackers to ease his rumbling tummy in the meantime.

However, as she closed the car door and turned her back to face the crowd of people one last time she was instead met with a tall, burly build of a man. His face was hidden by a balaclava, leaving only his eyes on display. But the rest of his face was not necessary to note that he was also grieving. She noticed him within the crowd of the memorial service as well -- she assumed that was one of Johnny's friends, but did not bother to congregate with anyone since Johnny kept his personal life completely separate from his work life. And if she was being honest with herself, she did not have the emotional stamina to socialize with people that spent months out of the year with her late husband.

"Sorry. Can I help you with something?" she asked the brute man. She stared up at him with her eyes slightly shut to avoid water from getting into them.

"He’s Johnny’s" was his only reply. For a moment she only blinked and stared at him and noted the heavy English accent. The mention of her late husband’s name stung as she now was fighting back tears. Yes, he is Johnny's son. His pride and joy -- was what she wanted to say, but she could barely muster up the strength to nod her head.

She could tell that the individual's lips tightened into a line by the way the fabric of his mask slightly stretched. "My name is Simon. I was a friend of Johnny's..." he attempted to continue speaking, but all he did was nervously rub the back of his neck. "Johnny meant a lot to me, a real friend of mine..." he trailed off again.

She knew he was grieving, but it was a different type of pain. She sensed guilt within his sadness, but she knew better than to ask about any specifics. Her kind nature and maternal habits took over as she saw Simon struggling to find his words. For whatever reason this man decided to make himself emotionally uncomfortable to introduce himself, she figured there would be no harm in easing his mind.

She knew who Simon was since Johnny would bring up his friend "Ghost" every now and then "I know who you are" she smiled warmly trying to be the emotional rock between the two, "How about you join us for some lunch. I think Sammie would love to talk to and get to know his Uncle Ghost" she spoke eagerly in an attempt to lighten the mood -- something that was usually Johnny's role.

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The three of them sat in a booth within a homely diner. The rain had completely let down at this point, the large drops of water hitting the roof of the diner with loud individual pats. Her hands were wrapped around a warm mug of coffee as she stared out the window watching blades of grass be temporarily smooshed by the inclement weather. The waitress had refilled her mug causing her gaze to turn towards her, her eyes softened and she gave the waitress a subtle nod to thank her. It was then that she realized that her son was wearing the ghost mask that was once on Simon. There was a glimmer of joy in Sam's eyes as he stood on the booth and gently hopped toward his mother to show her the "cool mask".

"I look so cool!" he exclaimed which only caused a chuckle to leave both her and Simon's mouths as the toddler's face was completely exposed through the eye hole on the mask -- his features obviously too small to fill the mask in the same manner. Upon hearing the slight laugh she turned to look at Simon, who she was surprised to see with dirty blonde hair. He was overall a handsome man, something that anyone would notice at first glance, but his eyes always conveyed a lot of emotion. Right now it was amusement tinged with pain as he stared at Sam. She knew he also noticed how strongly he resembles Johnny, and a part of her found comfort in knowing that she was not grieving alone. The way he looked at Sammie made her feel warm. She sensed that Simon knew Johnny deeper than most of the people at the memorial service — knowing that she found herself smiling at the thought of her being able to cherish Johnny’s memories with someone else.

The waitress had arrived with everyone's meals. Sam did not hesitate to dig into his plate. The toddler abruptly grabbed the bottle of syrup and drenched his pancakes in it. His careless behavior causing some of it to spill onto to the table, "Use your table manners please" she spoke sternly, but softly to the boy as she slipped him a napkin and a set of covered utensils.

"He looks just like him" he spoke in a gentle and respectful tone. His eyes rested on Sam -- who was now too focused on using his utensils properly to pay attention to the conversation happening in front of him.

Her hand wiped a strand of dark stray hair away from his forehead before she turned her attention toward Simon, who was now looking at her, "Yeah. Carried him for 9 months and he's got the nerve to look just like his father" she shrugged with a pained smile — her attempt to lighten the mood once again failing, "but I wouldn't have it any other way".

Simon took note of the sorrow hidden within the smile as his own face mirrored it out of empathy.

A few minutes had gone by and Samuel was still working on his meal, Simon had quickly eaten his, and she played with her food, tossing it around all over her plate in a desperate attempt to distract herself. How embarrassing would it be to break down at a family diner. "You should eat your lunch" he spoke. The deep voice dragging her out of her spiraling thoughts.

She glanced down to look at his empty plate and her contrastingly full one. Casually shrugging off his suggestion she set her fork down and let out a soft sigh, "I'll just take it to go. I don't really have an appetite at the moment" she spoke in a casual tone — too causal of a tone. She was normally a social person, the type to be able to engage in conversation with any type of person for hours. Her personality was magnetizing in the sense that she was an incredibly open minded person, which only made her a vessel for hundreds on conversations, all of different topics and tones — a quality that Johnny loved about her. She was one of the few that would keep up with his mindless thoughts and nonsense ideas. That is where she was at the moment. In her mind she was thinking about the woman she was before she got the gut wrenching knock at her door. The knock where she was told by Laswell and Price that her husband was gone. “Killed in Action” were the words they used. “He died saving the world” was something Price added.

Sure he had died saving the world, but her and her son’s was destroyed. She was never a selfish person, but in that moment she wished the world would burn if it meant he was in her arms instead of merely a memory. She hadn’t noticed until recently that tears were flooding her cheeks and spilling onto her meal. Simon had been observing her for a moment as she watched her fall into deep thought, but once he saw her tear stained face he acted quickly.

He swiftly took his wallet out of his pocket and placed a $50 bill on the table to cover their meals and a decent tip, “Come on” he spoke in a demanding voice, his tone remaining soft enough for her and Sam to remain calm. Sam was oblivious to his mother’s current state as he had now distracted himself with the crayons and the kids menu.

She looked at Simon as she attempted to regain her composure. It was long gone, she was an emotional mess at the diner — exactly what she was trying to avoid. “It’s alright.” he coo’d as he took Sam into his arm. With his free hand he guided her out of the booth and to the exit.

He took the initiative to get the mother and son home as soon as possible. The three of them approached her car, “Get in and take a few deep breaths, yeah?” he instructed while simultaneously holding the door open for her. Sam had been buckled into his car seat, which Simon struggled to figure out, but the toddler being incredibly intuitive had seen his mother and father do it hundreds of times and was able to talk Simon through it.

If that had happened under different circumstances she would have been able to congratulate Sam and let him know how proud she is of him, but she was far from being in that state of self awareness and state of mind.

She was a wreck in the passengers seat of her own car. She was heartbroken in the passengers seat of her own car. The severity of it all finally setting in making it nearly impossible for her to get ahold of herself.

Is she just exhausted from the days leading up to the funeral? A weeks worth of concealed emotions finally spilling out in front of her. She is definitely overwhelmed, but this time she subconsciously feels safe and secure enough to let go of her broken front.

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Months had gone by since her meltdown in front of Simon, and he never once brought it up. He was well aware it wasn’t something she was proud of, nor did she want to talk about her grief. Simon had been coming around her and Samuel a couple times a week just to check in on the pair. He felt it was his responsibility to keep them safe now — the least he could do for his recently deceased friend. Everyday he spent with the two of them he realized why Soap had kept them a secret. They were truly too special to put into any risk; especially her. She was a walking breath of fresh air, not something anyone encounters often in their lifetime, especially not in their line of work and the lifestyle it supplies. Now it all made sense. Johnny was always the most eager to return home when they’d be out in the field, said he had “something special” waiting for him, but everyone would shrug it off.

He grew to understand Soap’s decision to keep his family hidden from the world he worked in.

Even though Simon was consumed in his own thoughts he was still able to be completely alert as the mother and son played on the playground.

Her laugh. It stripped him away from his spiraling memories and muses. His gaze snapped to her body on the floor covered in wood chips, she had clearly tripped and stumbled while playing with Samuel. She was laughing at her clumsiness, laughing at how attentive Samuel was to his mother as soon as she hit the cushioned floor, “Sammie, I’m okay” she soothed him as he clung to her — small and gentle laughs leaving her full lips as she reacted to the entire scenario.

That was the first time Simon had heard her laugh.The sound of her sweet tone intoxicating to him. He couldn’t get enough, is what he mentally told himself as he walked over to her to help get back on her feet. Her soft and polished hand nestled and firmly gripped onto his rough and calloused one as he pulled her off the ground.

Guilt lingered in his being upon realizing how much he liked being around her, but he needed to be there for them. The conflict was clear within him, and something he figures he’ll eventually learn to accept and move forward with. He knew he would have to set aside his audacious feelings to respect her and more importantly to respect Johnny. He would be there to protect them as much as she allowed him. He wasn’t planning on getting emotionally attached to the the pair, or her alone.

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Later that same evening, Simon had made the decision to pay her and Sammie a visit. He stepped out of his car with a bag of Chinese takeout in his hand. Chinese food had become the only thing she would willingly eat ever since Johnny passed. A swift hand smoothing his plain black t-shirt before he began walking toward her front door, but as soon as his hand left his clothing he realized what he was doing. Bringing her favorite food to her and her son with no real reason to be seeing her, checking his appearance — something uncommon for the typically aloof man. A lingering hint of guilt settled in the pit of his stomach as he treaded towards the front door of her house. No, Simon was only supposed to be there for the mother and son duo as an aide during this severe loss. He felt that’s what he owed to Johnny since he felt partially responsible for his death. A cocktail of traumatic thoughts and memories invaded his mind . The grip on the take-out bag grew stronger, the same strength being felt in his chest as his heart pounded in its cavity

Upon reaching the front door he heard what sounded like a glass had broken — as if it had fallen off of a surface, which isn’t a big deal, she had a bad habit off leaving glasses on the edge of countertops and tables, but the yelp that followed only made Simon react in the most instinctive manner. He rushed inside the house and into the kitchen where she was found with a dish towel wrapped around her hand and a grimace on her face. Her nose scrunched in reaction to the pain.

Simon raised an eyebrow at her as he approached her with swift and long strides. His demeanor was urgent, alarmed and slightly panicked as his body was still in a reactive state from his memories, but how could she know that? She stared at him with the same expression, but she had more reason to. His breathing wasn’t heavy but it was slightly sporadic. At the same time, it was still controlled, his body was tense, but most significantly, his eyes looked panicked and unsettled. “I didn’t know you’d be visiting tonight. You should have let me know,” she spoke casually as she continued holding pressure on her fresh wound, “Or else I wouldn’t have-“ her words stopped flowing when Simon grabbed her hand and began to examine the brand-new cut. She watched his concerned expression lighten when he confirmed that the abrasion was small enough to heal on its own, “- let my mom take him for the weekend.” She finally completed her sentence when his large brown eyes met hers.

She knew exactly what was happening to him. She recognized the wide, alert eyes, uneven breathing, and tense mannerisms. This was a common occurrence that she witnessed Johnny experience. Her husband was gone, but there were constant reminders of him everywhere -- and one thing she hated seeing was Johnny struggling with his PTSD. Just like Johnny, she couldn't tolerate seeing Simon in the same condition.

Using her unharmed hand, she grabbed Simon's calloused one. Her movements were gentle and fluid as she guided their hands to the left side of her chest. With his palm now resting on her chest she looked into his eyes before speaking in a nurturing tone. "Slow and steady. Count it for me" she said as she placed her own hand over his chest. It was then that she noticed how hard and fast his heart pounded. "I’ll count yours until we match pace. One, two, three..."

Eventually, Simon counted with her, his heart rate slowing gradually as his mind remained distracted from the trauma and focused on her. On her beating heart, on her nurturing voice, on her full pink lips, on her long dark eyelashes, on her soft delicate hands. Her. His mind consumed by images of her, his newfound serenity.

Simon cannot help but feel guilty, but his pleasure and serene state strongly blinds him from this feelings. This is exactly what he didn’t want, but he can’t help but relish in it.

[obsessivelullabies]

cw. pregnant reader, fluff, simon riley x reader.

you were sat comfortably on your husband’s lap, nestled in bed. a comfort show of yours was playing in the background.

simon’s large hand was rubbing your swollen belly in a loose circle, a comforting gesture.

“how ya feelin’, lovie?” your husband whispered softly.

you sighed, “i feel eight months pregnant.. not too good.”

simon’s hand rested on the peak of your belly, concern etched on his face. he’d been worried about you through your whole pregnancy.

“need anything? anything at all?” his tone was soft, surprisingly tender for his character.

“..can you just stay here with me?” you pouted, the thought of him leaving nearly bringing you to tears. pregnancy hormones.

simon smiled to himself, kissing the back of your neck. “of course, hun. you’re everything to me. you and our son.” he gently patted your belly.

i’m so sorry i’ve been inactive! i’m five months pregnant and i’ve been so sick! i’ll get to working on my requests soon, mwah!

masterlist!

[stray-cat-with-internet-access]

SOMEBODY DRAW THE COD BOYS WITH ONE OF THIS, I'M GOING INSANE