Y/N inserts (male and female)

From the Ashes

The sun was setting over the crumbling remains of an old village, its ruins bathed in hues of orange and red. Ghost and Soap moved cautiously, rifles at the ready, scanning their surroundings for any sign of remaining hostiles. They'd been sent to secure intel, but so far, all they'd found was devastation.

Until Soap heard it.

"Ghost," he whispered, raising a hand to signal a halt. "You hear that?"

Ghost froze, tilting his head. At first, there was only the distant crackling of flames and the faint rustle of the wind. Then it came again—a soft, fragile cry.

Soap turned towards the sound and gestured for Ghost to follow. They moved together, their steps silent despite the rubble underfoot. The cries grew louder as they approached the remnants of a collapsed home.

"Bloody hell," Soap murmured as they came upon the source.

Nestled in the ruins was a bundle of cloth, half-buried in dust. A tiny face peeked out, scrunched up and red from crying. A baby.

Ghost crouched beside the bundle, his usually steely demeanor softening as he examined the infant. "He's alive," he said, his voice quieter than usual.

Soap crouched beside him, reaching out carefully. "What're the odds, eh? Poor wee lad..." He looked up at Ghost. "We can't just leave him."

Ghost hesitated, his dark eyes fixed on the child. "Soap, we're not exactly equipped to—"

"—raise a baby? No. But we're not leavin' him here, Simon." Soap's tone left no room for argument.

Ghost sighed, pulling the baby into his arms. "We'll figure it out," he muttered.

One Year Later

Life as covert operatives had never been easy, but life as dads? That was a whole new battlefield.

"Johnny, where's the formula?" Ghost called from the kitchen of their safe house, holding Y/N on his hip. The now one-year-old was squirming, tiny hands tugging at Ghost's mask as he tried to soothe him.

Soap appeared in the doorway, a bottle in hand and a grin on his face. "Relax, big guy. Got it right here."

Ghost took the bottle and immediately handed it to Y/N, who latched on with the desperation of a soldier finding water after a long march.

"Saved the day again," Soap quipped, leaning against the counter.

"You're lucky he likes you," Ghost replied dryly, though his eyes held a trace of warmth as he watched Y/N drink.

Soap chuckled, reaching out to ruffle the baby's hair. "Aye, he's a good lad. Got your glare, though."

"He's a baby, Johnny. He doesn't glare."

"You're tellin' me that isn't the start of a Ghost stare?"

Ghost rolled his eyes but didn't argue.

Bedtime Battles

Getting Y/N to sleep was a nightly challenge. Ghost's stoic patience and Soap's boundless energy were put to the test as they tried everything from lullabies to elaborate bedtime stories.

"Once upon a time," Soap began dramatically, "there was a brave wee soldier—"

Y/N giggled, clapping his hands.

"—and his trusty companion, a big scary ghost!"

Ghost, sitting nearby with his arms crossed, raised an eyebrow. "I don't think he needs to hear about ghosts before bed."

"Oh, lighten up, Simon. He loves it!"

Y/N cooed in agreement, reaching out towards Soap, who scooped him up and spun him around.

Ghost sighed but didn't stop Soap's antics. He wouldn't admit it, but seeing Y/N laugh like that made all the sleepless nights worth it.

Family in the Field

Their line of work didn't stop because they had a child. Missions still came, and the stakes were always high. But their newfound fatherhood gave them an edge they hadn't expected—a sharper sense of purpose, a deeper resolve.

In quieter moments, as they rocked Y/N to sleep or watched him toddle around the safe house, Ghost and Soap found themselves talking about the future.

"We're not exactly traditional parents," Soap said one night, watching Y/N drool on a stuffed bear.

Ghost, leaning against the wall, nodded. "No. But we'll give him what we can. Keep him safe."

Soap grinned. "He's got two of the best protectors in the world. And he'll know it."

Ghost glanced at Soap, then at their son, who was now snoring softly. "Yeah. He'll know."

And so, in the midst of chaos and danger, a new kind of family was born—one forged not by blood, but by choice, resilience, and love.