Y/N inserts (male and female)

Growing Up in the Shadows

(Part two to from the ashes)
By the time Y/N was three, the safe house was less of a base and more of a home. Toys were scattered across the floor, crayon marks adorned some of the walls (despite Ghost's best efforts to prevent it), and there was always a faint smell of Soap's questionable cooking lingering in the air.

"Johnny, you're burning it again," Ghost muttered as he stepped into the kitchen, holding Y/N, who was still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"It's crispy, Simon. Adds flavor!" Soap replied, flipping something unrecognizable in a pan.

"Flavor like a tire fire."

Soap gave him a mock glare, then turned his attention to Y/N. "Morning, lad! Ready for breakfast?"

Y/N giggled, reaching out for Soap. Ghost handed him over, watching as the boy immediately started playing with the Velcro straps on Soap's tactical vest.

"Gotta teach you to cook one day, wee man," Soap said, grinning as he set Y/N in his high chair. "Can't let your da here raise you on ration packs."

Ghost raised an eyebrow. "Better than the charcoal you're serving."

Training the Next Generation

By age five, Y/N's curiosity about his dads' work was unrelenting. He'd watch intently as Ghost cleaned his weapons or Soap worked on gear.

One afternoon, Y/N toddled over to Ghost, holding a toy pistol Soap had given him. "Daddy Ghost, can you show me how to hold it like you?"

Ghost froze for a moment, caught off guard by the request. Soap, sitting nearby, smirked but stayed quiet, clearly curious to see how Ghost would handle it.

"Alright," Ghost said finally, his voice gentle. "But this is just practice, yeah? You're too young to use the real thing."

Y/N nodded earnestly, and Ghost crouched down, adjusting the boy's grip on the toy. "Like this. Keep your finger off the trigger unless you're ready to fire. Always."

Soap leaned back, watching with a proud smile. "Look at you, Simon. Natural dad material."

"Shut it, Johnny," Ghost muttered, though there was no heat in his words.

Y/N grinned up at him. "Am I doing it right?"

"Perfect," Ghost replied. "Just like a real soldier."

First Day of School

Sending Y/N to school was a monumental decision. Both Ghost and Soap had spent years in a world where trust was a rare commodity, and the idea of letting their son out of their sight was almost unbearable.

"Relax, Simon," Soap said as they walked Y/N to the school gates. "He'll be fine. You've taught him to be smart, and I've taught him to charm his way outta trouble."

Ghost sighed, adjusting the small backpack on Y/N's shoulders. "Doesn't make it easier."

Y/N looked up at them, a mix of excitement and nervousness in his eyes. "You'll come back, right?"

Soap crouched down, ruffling his hair. "Course we will, lad. We'll be right here when you're done."

Ghost nodded, kneeling to Y/N's level. "Listen to your teacher. Be good."

Y/N hugged them both tightly before turning and running towards the building. Ghost and Soap watched him go, standing in silence for a moment.

"Never thought I'd be the one doing school runs," Soap said with a chuckle.

Ghost crossed his arms, his gaze still on the school. "You and me both."

Family Bond

Despite their unconventional lives, Y/N grew up surrounded by love and unwavering support. Soap was the one who encouraged his creativity, whether it was drawing on the walls or building elaborate forts in the living room. Ghost, on the other hand, was the calm presence, always ready to offer quiet advice or a steadying hand.

One evening, after a long day of playing and a dinner that was mostly edible, Y/N curled up between his dads on the couch. He looked up at Ghost, then at Soap, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"Are you guys always gonna be here?" he asked softly.

Soap smiled, wrapping an arm around him. "Always, lad."

Ghost placed a hand on Y/N's head, his voice firm but gentle. "No matter what."

As Y/N drifted off to sleep, the two men exchanged a glance. Neither of them had expected this life, but now, they couldn't imagine it any other way.

In a world full of chaos and uncertainty, they'd built something unshakable. A family.