#single dad!soap

[sstormyskyess]

thinking about single dad!soap.

“Thank you for helping me today, by the way.” Your friend says with a tired smile on her face. You smile back, swinging the tiny hand in yours back and forth. The hand belonged to your friend’s son, who you had basically claimed as your nephew with how close you and his mom were. “Of course, Sara! Any time,” you peek down at Sara's son, Beau. “It just means I get to spend time with your little man.”

It was ‘bring your parents to school’ day at Beau’s primary school and unfortunately, Sara couldn’t stay and her husband was out of town. So, she employed you to be her son’s chaperone, just to make sure that he didn’t feel left out. You were perfectly happy to take up the role. You loved Beau just as much as Sara did, so being there for the two of them when they needed was the least you could do.

Sara gave both you and Beau a hug before bidding you both farewell and letting you walk into the classroom. Your senses were immediately overtaken by the exact kind of childlike chaos you would expect from a room full of five to six year olds. There was an array of parents mingling, some catching up and some introducing themselves for the first time, all while their kids played and snacked on the chips and candy that were laid out on a long table at the back of the room.

You opted to simply let Beau take you around wherever he liked, so you spent some time trailing behind him with a soft smile on your face and watched him get along with his friends. You scanned the crowd while you followed your nephew, and one man kept catching your eye.

He seemed a tad out of place in the room of toddlers, what with his broad stature and the scar cutting through the stubble across his chin. He seemed like he’d fit better on the movie set for some stereotypical action movie as the leading man. He certainly had the ruggedly handsome look down to a tee. Of course, all of this was offset by the comparatively tiny baby strapped to his body, sleeping soundly despite all the commotion. He watched a little girl, presumably his daughter, across the room from where he leaned against the wall, his hand large over the back of the baby cuddled into his chest.

He must’ve noticed you staring because he waves and gives you a charming smile. You awkwardly wave back before turning away, your cheeks warming at the fact you got caught. Beau, thankfully, saved you any extra embarrassment that might ensue with you still standing in his line of sight by pulling you to a different part of the room.

You realized quickly that he was leading you over to the girl that man was supervising. He sat next to her on the floor where she was doodling something with a pack of markers in a bag decorated with cutesy little cats and pawprints. They started to talk about kid things while you sat in a nearby chair and started to tune it out as you had for all the other conversations he had been having for the past thirty minutes or so.

It’s a few minutes after you pull out your phone to occupy yourself when you get tapped on the shoulder. You quickly turn to see who it was and you’re met with pretty blue eyes peering down at you. “I don’t think we’ve met before, have we?” He asks, bouncing the baby in his arms a bit now that she’s woken up.

You blink, somewhat stunned by how much more handsome he was close-up, before you shake yourself out of it and nod. You give him your name and he gives you his, ‘John.’ You give him a smile, hoping it masked your nerves when he takes a seat in a chair, which is comically small compared to him. “It’s a pleasure. You’re here with Beau, aye?” He hums in understanding when you nod again to affirm his question. “What are you to him? A friend of Sara’s? Or Joseph’s?”

“I’m Sara’s friend, have been since high school. How do you know Beau?” You tilt your head to pair with your question. “He’s Abigail’s friend, they’ve had playdates and all that,” He looks past you at the girl Beau was sitting with and you assume that the little brunette was the Abigail he was referring to. He opens his mouth to start talking again, but before he can get more than a couple words out, the baby on his chest has reached a hand up to grab his face, squishing his cheeks and babbling quietly up at him.

He gently tugs the baby’s hand away, putting it back down. “And this,” he moves his face away from the next assault, “is Ashley.” You can’t help but laugh at him struggling to make his younger daughter stop pinching his face.

For the rest of the school day, you sit with John and talk with him about various things. He gushes about his two daughters, you tell him stories about your past with Sara, and eventually you land on the topic of occupations. You’re left feeling a little starstruck when he tells you that he’s serving in the British SAS; compared to your standard office job, you seemed pretty insignificant in the grand scheme of things. “That’s… pretty impressive, actually.” You muse, trying not to display how in awe you were. He waves you off, shaking his head. “It’s nothing, really.” He wasn’t nearly as good at hiding the thinly veiled pride he carries, though.

The conversation continued to flow smoothly and before you knew it, it was time for everyone to head home. Most of the parents had left with their children by the time you realize you and John are some of the only people still lingering.

Abigail dashes up to John and tugs on his pant leg. “Papa, can I go to Beau’s house? Pretty please!” She looks up at him with a pair of bright hazel puppy-dog eyes. Even you wouldn’t be able to say no to that sweet face. He looks over at you and raises a brow. “D’you think Sara will be alright with it?”

You think for a moment before nodding and giving him and Abigail a smile. “I’m sure she would. As long as you trust me to take care of your little girl.” It was John’s turn to think, and eventually he nodded as well.

“Sounds good by me. Let me get your number.” He pulls out his phone with a bright grin that matched Abigail’s perfectly. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, it seems. Once you’ve exchanged information, you both head your separate ways. You give him a wave before heading to your car, a warmth in your chest while you walk behind Beau and Abigail walking in front of you hand in hand.

wrote this in a frenzy in the middle of the night. uhh is this anything (more single dad!soap over on the masterlist)

[temeyes]

hehe dad!soap likes matching with his kid

[soap-ify]

nsfw mdni

okay but imagine being the teacher of single dad!soap's son! you teach in a nice, well-kept kindergarten — well liked by all the students, teachers and parents. how could they not? you were such a sweetheart. good with kids too, even if you initially thought you would be stiff around them.

relationships with students' parents was something you never gave yourself the luxury to even think of. it just seemed so unprofessional.

that all changed until you met one of your scottish student's parent on the parent-teacher meeting day. tall and nicely muscular, a nicely cut short mohawk on his head, royal blue eyes that just seemed so damn sweet and a big bright smile on his lips — john mactavish. he was like the sun, bright and powerful and the way he would call his son his 'wee bairn' — it was dangerously adorable.

he was so attentive to you, eyes sizing you up, carefully listening to each of your words. his child was doing great in this kindergarten, but his mind had soon drifted away from that. distracted by you. how could he not? he had just been so lonely ever since his kid's mother had left them, leaving him all alone to raise a kid at his own young age of twenty three.

now twenty-seven with a five year old son, he had even resigned from his military duties to focus on his son. but he was a bit tired, always alone and eager for some company despite already having lots of friends!

you were just so sweet to his child, a perfect teacher and a potentially perfect parent. that's why he made it his personal mission to get to know you better! for his kid, of course, definitely not for himself.

he had started accidentally bumping into you outside of the kindergarten, your meetings with him going outside the parent-teacher conferences. luckily you were single, and that just encouraged him more and more to go after you. not that he would let any man look at you anyways. he even offered you to tutor his son, despite the child already being nicely skilled. it was just an excuse so johnny could get to know you better.

tutoring sessions would turn into late night stays while johnny would tuck his son in bed before somehow convincing you to stay one more hour with him. he took full advantage of those nights, gently holding your hand and brushing his shoulder with yours. chaste little touches.

one particular afternoon, johnny invited you over to his house. apparently, he had dropped his son off to an uncle's house. finally, a full day alone with you.

it was all innocent at first, just casual talks about the everyday stuff. he even watched a movie with you! a sappy rom-com that made you cringe and laugh due to how hilarious it was. though he hadn't really been watching it, royal blue eyes solely focused on your reactions.

you didn't even notice how the time had passed by and the end credits had started rolling on the telly. but before you could get up from the couch, he had already grabbed your waist with his hands and pulled you closer.

"bonnie wee thing... i ain't lettin' ye get up. please say, pretty please?" he pouted, those pleading puppy eyes convincing you to stay with him on the couch. he had pulled you closer, strong arms keeping you tightly pressed with him. "cuddles?" he grinned.

an hour had passed into the cuddling session, your back flushed against his chest. all this time, you had felt his clothed cock rubbing against your plush ass through the fabric of your pants. you had tried to reason yourself, wanting to protest that you were his kid's teacher for god's sake. but you didn't. it felt nice. you knew how he looked at you, and you knew how fucking sweet he was to you. no one had been so caring towards you like him — cooking for you and even bringing you flowers whenever he came to pick his child up from school.

once you had gained some courage to nuzzle the back of your head against his neck, a switch on his brain just turned on and he was quick to turn you around, smashing his lips against yours. smothering your face and neck up with kisses, all while cooing sweet words into your ears.

"sweet thing. ye are perfect for my wee lad. wanna wife ye up so bad, keep ye in my house..."

all you could do was let out soft whimpers and moans, his hands effortlessly undressing you.

and before you knew it, he had fucked you full the whole afternoon and evening, thick cock filling up your hole, stuffing you full of his cum. might come handy later. leaving you as a tired, flushed mess. and the aftercare was godly. he cleaned you up with a wet towel, all while pressing kisses on your trembling thighs, your body so weak after all the orgasms he had pulled out of you. eight, or was it nine...? you couldn't remember.

he had used his tongue to clean up your fluttering, sore hole, though it was an excuse to somehow make you cum again. and oh, you did.

the night was spent in his arms, your exhausted body all snuggled up into him, a victorious grin on his lips. hopefully you didn't find him creepy, or a bit perverted. probably not, right?

the whole night he stared at you, thinking of more ways to make you fall in love with him, to somehow convince you to marry him. his son already liked you well enough, and so did he. it was perfect.

[mockerycrow]

Here, have a delightful little thought I had while taking a cold medicine nap: cuddling with Soap (or whomever you prefer) in bed and you're just falling asleep. Someone opens your door. Maybe your kid or your roommate or clever cat or whatever. Nobody who poses a threat. But the instant the door opens, Soap/whomever just instantly awake and protectively guarding you until they realize that everything is safe

OHH THIS IS SO CUTE!! — gn!reader, kid is implied to be soap’s

Johnny who is a heater when he sleeps, so maybe it’s summer and the AC unit isn’t working in your home. He hates leaving windows open, but it’s his only choice. A thin sheet covers the both of you, providing a cool surface as your bedroom window allows a luke-warm breeze to flow whilst you’re both asleep.

You aren’t sure what’s going on when you wake up to Johnny, slightly hovering over your body in a protective manner. You slur your words but he covers your mouth with his hand, furthering your confusion. You feel Johnny relax as the figure of a small girl comes around the bed, her eyes wide and blue, teary with a bear in her arms. his hand leaves your mouth as the girl sniffles. “Aw, whas’ wrong, pumpkin?” You croak, voice thick with sleep as you sit up a bit, pulling the girl into bed. “Had a bad dream?”

She sniffles once again and nods, clinging to you, so you wrap your arms around her. “Don’t worry, me and your daddy will protect you, yeah?” You murmur, glancing at Johnny, his face illuminated by the bright moon shining through. He’s taking a deep breath to calm himself before he nods, murmuring some assurances to his little girl in Scots, kissing her head and rubbing her little back.

[danibee33]

Don’t mind me.. just thinking about singledad/neighbor!Soap 🫶🏻

Thinking about how curious he would be to come home after work to see the big moving truck blocking his drive.

The townhome that shared a wall with his had been blissfully empty for months now, the last tenant had been a pompous old cunt, the kind that nagged and complained about how noisy the kids were.

Ah, his kids- who were currently, probably, driving the nanny just a bit mad. Two boys is no easy feat, much less a 2 year old with the same mischievous tendencies as his father, and a 5 year old who was too smart for his own good.

“Ach, definitely gets that from his mother.” he always says, even though everyone knows the man is smart as a whip.

But it’s when he nearly collides with a brown, cardboard box that he finally meets you.

You, who looked nearly on the verge of tears as you peeked your face around the side of the box before sitting it down,

“I’m- sorry..”, you apologized at least three more times before even making eye contact with him, looking up to see the outrageously handsome man just barely holding back a smile.

Soap’s curiosity was more piqued than ever, hearing your thick American accent- seeing you fumble for words before blowing out a long sigh,

“It’s been a long night- uh- day. I don’t know anymore.. I had a thirteen hour layover, and I haven’t slept in I think over twenty-four hours now? and you.. but, none of that matters. Ha.. um, hi.”

Oh- Fucking hell, you’re adorable. And he’s in trouble.

You extended a trembling hand, your name spoken so softly he could’ve missed it if he were further away- but he thinks he likes the sound of it.

“John MacTavish.. nice tae meet ye, lass.”

The weak giggle that tumbles from between your lips is a sweet sound, one he instantly finds himself craving more of-

“Somethin’ funny?” He asks, cocking his head to the side, your hand still in his because he noticed you haven’t made any effort to pull away.

And fuuuuck, the way your cheeks bloom an even brighter red makes your features somehow even more gorgeous- it’s honestly not fair, the universe giving him the prettiest little thing for a neighbor.

“No.. I just- your accent- and you, you’re very nice, oh- oh my god.” You finally let go of him, scrubbing the same hand over your face, “You’re.. my neighbor. And I’m blocking your spot. Christ alive.. I’ll move it, I’m sorry-“

Before he can tell you it’s fine, that you really didn’t have to, you had already flitted away.

+++

He doesn’t see you for another week. He sees the moving truck disappear, spots a sparkly holiday wreath on the door the next day, hears you quietly moving about mostly in the evenings, and sees your chimney puffing white smoke- but never you.

Until finally, the sound of his snow shovel draws you out.

You hadn’t even gotten dressed yet, it was that early. Sleepily making your way downstairs, pulling on your ridiculous fluffy robe as you go- Scotland winters would certainly take some getting used to.

It’s then you hear the oddly repetitive sound, scraping followed by a dull thump. Over and over.

You peek through the curtains, seeing your neighbor- your very good looking neighbor- bundled up in a thick plaid jacket, his overgrown mohawk covered by a black beanie, the dark curly ends just barely poking out around his neck.

He’s shoveling your walkway, oddly tan cheeks colored pink from the cold and exertion-

Without thought, you unlatch your chain lock, flipping the deadbolt next before yanking the door open,

“What are you doing?”

Nice.. real fucking smooth-

Soap looks up in surprise, big blue eyes meeting yours before straying- seeing your legs bare under the fuzzy pink robe, your hair pulled up in a messy bun, little baby hairs flying this way and that. (God, he’s so fucked, isn’t he?)

You watch him stand straight, casually leaning against his shovel when that same lopsided smirk as before graces his lips,

“Well.. we got a good bit o’ snow last night, and I figured since I were already up and at ‘em, I’d do the neighborly thing, y’ken?”

——

🫣🫣 oh god, I’ve watched waaayyyy too many cheesy holiday movies - send help.

[harveywritings92]

[Single dad! Soap au: R/n is a kindergarten teacher is throwing a little party for the kiddos at the end of school, they homemade treats out and the children are watching a Halloween movie She’s waiting on parents to come get the kids, when the MacTavish twins (a boy and girl pair.) were apparently terrified of the concept of cartoon children receiving rocks for treats instead of candy, they come up to her absolutely sobbing.]

Girl! Twin: Can you turn off the movie, please? It’s too scary!

R/n: I’m sorry sweetie, all the other kids are enjoying it. How about we go to the other side of the cafeteria and play a board game, instead?

Boy! Twin: That won’t work!

R/n: Why not?

Girl! Twin: BECAUSE WE CAN’T LOOK AWAY!

[Cut to R/n with one crying twin on each knee, terrified but adamantly refusing to look away from the movie. Luckily Soap showed up a few minutes later, very confused why his children were crying, after a quick explanation they managed calm the kids by reminding them that they’ll be getting real candy for Halloween and not dirty rocks.]

Soap: I’m really sorry for that, I never thought something like the Great Pumpkin could cause such a reaction.

R/n: It’s fine Mr. MacTavish, I wouldn’t be good kindergarten teacher if I didn’t have to soothe the occasional kid meltdown.

Soap, nodding: Ah, Please call me Johnny or Soap. I never cared for that ‘Mister’ business.

R/n: Okay, Johnny, just let them cool down I’m sure once they go out trick or treating they’ll forget about the whole thing.

Soap: Yeah…

(Soap cheeks were dusted pink as he checks around to maker sure the other parents aren’t watching.) 

Soap: We’re still on for Saturday, right?

R/n: *Kisses Soap on the cheek* Oh, don’t you know it!~

[Soap smiles like a dope as he gets in his car and drives off, R/n waves goodbye to him.]

[s0fter-sin]

the world’s nittiest nitpick but ghost doesn’t tell puns, he tells dark jokes and military humour. soap is the one that goes for the puns. ghost uses dark humour as a coping mechanism and that’s so important to who he is, don’t mistake that for just a general sense of humour

[skylarsblue]

✦New Life from Old Battlegrounds✦

(SoapGhost Content based purely on a piece of fanart by a Twitter mutual. Will I make more than one chapter? Perhaps) ✧TW; References to past abuse(Simon), implied death during childbirth(Simon), reference to a domestic dispute(Johnny) ✧Fluff, Mild Angst, Single Dad!AU✧

★Link to Ao3 Ver : ★Link to fanart that inspired it

✧Meeting✧

John hummed to himself as he walked down the street, dodging people passing him and contemplating what to make for dinner. At the same time, he noted the things around him, thoughts bouncing from subject to subject as it always did. His mother used to joke that if he didn’t learn to contain his thoughts, one day, his brain would be sick of being in his skull and it’d escape. Bounce all over the room like he did. He gave a quick snort at the memory, making a quick note that he’d need to call her again, since it’d been about a week since he’d spoken to her last. It was still very odd being far from her. It’d been such a change from his original plan as a teen, though, he supposed his entire life at that point was far from his young plans for his life.

For starters, he’d been certain he’d be more in the military for longer than he was. He wasn’t completely free from government work, but he wasn’t a constant on-call soldier anymore either. Most of his job was paperwork now. Was it his preferred job? Admittedly, no. He often missed the days on base, the training, the adrenaline rush of battle. Not that he liked to complain, he had it good regardless, he felt so anyway. He’d always been the optimistic type. The way his job was now kept him home more, it was safer, the pay was good, and it was honestly nice to have access to food outside of MREs. He most certainly did not miss the MREs. While his teenage self, and himself in his younger twenties, flourished in the aggressive environment of war, he couldn’t keep that life. Thanks to another curveball from the universe.

John had never considered himself to be fitting of the definition “playboy”, though some of his extended family and exes disagreed. He had no issue with being tied down, though it always seemed it never lasted very long. Be it due to personal differences or the way the military kept him away. He always did his best to be a good partner, not perfect, but good. Still, the longest committed relationship he’d had lasted about two years and a couple months, and that had been when he was fresh out of his teens. All the poor experiences and seeming inability to keep a partner, he didn’t fear the prospect at all. He still looked forward to having a partner permanently one day, getting settled down and such. But that didn’t stop him from casual fun either. He never saw any reason why two adults couldn’t have fun for a night, and leave it there. The problem was really the risk that came with that kind of fun, specifically when his partner had the biological equipment for pregnancy. He’d had one scare when he was sixteen, but that also turned out to be his first experience with a cheating partner. Aside from that, he skated through his pleasureful escapades without problems. He was clean and childless.

Until he wasn’t.

He’d gotten a little too cocky with an apartment neighbor turned casual fuck-buddy, and he came home from a mission to a rather pissed off expression on her face and a DNA test in her hand. It wasn’t ideal by any means, both had agreed on that. It scared him to all death. But his mother had carried many children, and his father sunk in the lesson that it was a woman’s choice completely. He wasn’t carrying anything, his body wouldn’t be changing, so he left the decision up to her. She wasn’t happy with the reality but a heavily religious upbringing made the idea of an abortion out of her options, even if she was rebelling from the eye of God. He’d only nodded when she had said the thought of getting one made her sick. At first, the plan was to try at an actual relationship. They liked each other enough to have sex, he made her laugh plenty, she had a lot of sweet qualities John admired. But by the eighth month, whether it was hormones or the reality of a child weighing heavy on her mind, she’d turned into quite the she-beast, to put it lightly. To the point Johnny sported a new scar on the palm of his hand from a lamp being thrown at his skull.

It became very apparent a relationship wouldn’t work. However, John also couldn’t shake the attachment he’d grown to the child he’d helped create. The last month of her pregnancy was hell on his psyche, but he stuck it out in the hope he’d get to see the baby, even if he’d have to fight it out in a court. Something his eldest sister, Edith, promised to help him with, should it be messy. Thankfully for him, however, the mother really hadn’t been too keen on staying that way. It admittedly stung when she’d responded so poorly after delivering the child, even the nurse winced at her coldness. John got one hundred percent of the parental rights, however, without a court case or a fight. Even if the prospect of being a single father scared him halfway into an early grave. He had many nights where he stayed up on the phone with either his mother or his sister, needing both advice and pep talks. And he still held a pill of guilt from the one night he considered giving his new daughter up for adoption, truly worried he wasn’t cut out for it.

Though, much to the joy of his current self, he’d stuck it out. He had to change and sacrifice a lot, and every now and then, he had the wonder of what would’ve happened had he not taken responsibility. But the thought was often rocketed out of his brain by the simple image of his daughter’s excited face when he came to pick her up from school. A very small, old building, situated in Leek, England. When the baby had just been born and the situation was still fresh, he wanted to give the woman who’d given birth to his daughter to change her mind. So he’d stayed in England, albeit a completely different town. He wasn’t so open to the idea now that he’d raised her, but the town had charmed him, and he wasn’t hugely fond of the concept of taking his daughter out of her hometown. Even if he missed Scotland often. Though he did everything he could to ensure his daughter wouldn’t end up with an English accent. Had it taken a decent chunk of money to get a cable package that included Scottish channels with Scottish cartoons? Yes. Did he regret it? Not at all. Visiting his family for holidays also helped. His daughter, named Maisie, was very fond of her visits to the country. Part of him hoped it could set up for her being open to moving there when she was older, though he didn’t cling to that idea very tightly. He had plenty of time before her teen years. Or, at least he told himself that, even if she turned five at the speed of light. Much like his second oldest sister, Davina, warned him.

John jogged when he spotted the school just ahead. He occasionally drove the distance, but it often wasn’t worth the gas it wasted, not when he could walk the distance with ease. Children filed out to their parents, the sound of little laughter never failed to make John grin. He’d always loved kids, even before being a parent to one. Likely because of the large family he came from. After all, he was the fifth kid born out of seven. His mother was a triplet, and his father had six sisters. The family events were more like circuses with the amount of kids. Sometimes it was hard to get any attention at all. It didn’t affect his adoration for his bloodline though…excluding the occasional prick of an aunt or step-uncle. 

The blue-eyed man walked up to the school, whistling a tune as his hands came to rest on his jean-clad hips. It was warm for once, without a layer of overcast in the sky. John tapped the rhythm of a song stuck in his head on this hip, eyes scanning through kids, parents, and teachers. Stopping once to give an awkward nod and strained smile to a mom he’d met at a school event once. He averted his eyes quickly however. Not to throw a woman under the bus, but John wasn’t too fond of her less-than-subtle flirting she’d chuck his way whenever he went to an event for his daughter. He hadn’t dated since Maisie’s mother, for his own sake and hers. And even if that wasn’t a factor, he was about ninety-nine percent sure the woman was married. John was a lot of things, but a homewrecker certainly wasn’t one.

His brain flicked back on when he heard a familiar little voice shout a goodbye. With a genuine grin this time, John turned and spotted his little girl waving to someone. He let out a sharp whistle, something he’d picked up from when his father owned horses. Quickly, Maisie turned and searched for her father, breaking out into a look of pure joy. Little Mary-Janes clacked on the stone as she sprinted to him. John crouched down and held open his arms, ready to receive. As soon as she reached him, he hoisted her up high with a laugh, reveling in her joyous giggle. He brought her down and set her on his hip, supported by his arm.

“Didn’t you have a bow in yer hair when I sent ya here?” John questioned, and Maisie looked away. “Uhhh noooo?” She lied, making him snort. “Ya lil’ bugger, you yelled at me all mornin’ for not tying it right!” He playfully scolded, making her laugh as he pinched at her side, having her curl away from the ticklish feeling. “I kept the piggies in though!” Maisie retorted, touching the tiny brunette pigtails in her hair. They were a bit messy now, but to her word, they were intact. John sighed with a head shake. “‘Suppose you got a point there. Where’d the ribbon go then?” He asked, subconsciously taking her rucksack when she took it off and held it away from her.

With the pink strap over his shoulder, looking hilariously small against his frame, he watched her eyes grow with excitement. “I gave it to my new friend! I tied it around her wrist and told her to wear it until I could make her a bracelet.” The little girl explained proudly. The ex-soldier tilted his head with a little chuckle. “A bracelet huh? For a new friend? You must like her a lot. That’s a high honor, lass.” He commented. Maisie bobbed her head aggressively, showing she agreed quite intensely. “She’s my best friend now. She’s new to town too! She said she lived in Manchester before, but her dad didn’t like the school she was in, so they came here.” 

John hummed with a quick nod, showing he was listening. He adjusted her on his hip and opened his mouth to speak, ready to suggest a treat before they went home, seeing as how it was such a nice day out. But he paused when his gaze caught on a figure near the front of the school. There wasn’t really anything amiss at first. Just another parent picking up their child it seemed, based on the little blonde girl that was being cautiously lifted off the ground. But it was Maisie’s outburst that made his eyes stick. She pointed with a smile. “That’s my friend! Her name is Ellie!” The information barely registered as John took in the stranger.

Tall, broad, with an aura he’d only attributed to an animal before. A doberman-like intimidating energy. Dressed in almost all black with a black surgical mask across the lower half of his face. An image of intensity only broken by the soft, chubby features of Maisie’s new friend. Round and rosy cheeks with big eyes. John couldn’t look away from the man’s face though, noting a noticeable scar that ran to the stranger’s temple, barely clipping the end of his eyebrow and leaving a subtle indent in the short blond hair at his temple. Just as John was about to force his eyes away, the man turned slightly, and their gazes locked. Cliche and beyond cheesy, but John was suddenly stunned by just how pretty this man's eyes were. Instead of holding the borderline scary aura the rest of him did, they held a gentleness. Light eyelashes in contrast to cinnamon brown. There was a purple tint under the man’s eyes, adding to the naturally tired slope of his eye shape. John always liked eyes, he always found them his favorite thing to look at on people’s faces. Although here, he was suddenly very acutely aware that he had been straight up deadpan staring at a man he didn’t know for God knows how long. The man also clearly noticed, given the uncomfortable shift in his shoulders and the almost anxious glance away, only to connect back with John’s eyes. Obviously, double checking if he was meaning to stare at him. Thankfully, Maisie’s voice helped break John’s train of thought and pull him from his own head.

“Can Ellie come over?” Maisie questioned. “Huh? Oh, uh. We would need to ask her pa, bò.” Her father stammered a bit, looking down at her, although he was certain he could feel the other man’s stare still on him. Internally, he worried he’d already sealed in a bad impression. There was nothing more awkward than accidentally staring at a stranger for seemingly no reason, and then getting caught. “Well he’s over there, let’s go ask!” Maisie tugged at the collar of John’s shirt. He sighed quietly and took a second to prepare how he’d manage that. He debated if he should open with his name or just boldly state an apology. When he decided he’d figure it out once in front of the man, he took in a breath and readied himself to charm his way out of the awkward tension he’d just built.

However, when he looked up, fully prepared to walk toward the man, he was startled by the masked stranger being suddenly closer. A safe distance away but close enough for a conversation. Maisie didn’t miss a beat, waving happily at Ellie who returned the gesture albeit with less enthusiasm. John blinked before he coughed, rolling his shoulders and smiling. Needing to look up was something new. He wasn’t short by any means, and he’d met plenty of tall people, but there was something about the rest of his man’s energy that made his height seem all the more intense. “Afternoon, ‘m John, Maisie’s dad. Uh…sorry about the staring. Wasn’t intentional, was meant to be more of a glance and I forgot to move my eyes.” The Scot said with far less grace than he’d hoped for, he was even using his hand to talk, a habit he always had but that often worsened when he was nervous. The man blinked slowly at him before holding out a hand, which John noted was gloved, despite the warm weather. The gloves had bone detailing on them. 

“Simon.” Ellie’s father answered through a gravelly voice and thick accent. John silently hoped his relief wasn’t too visible as he reached to shake the extended hand, shoulders less tense. “Pleasure to meet’cha, Simon.” He said genuinely, letting his hand come to rest on the strap of Maisie’s bag. He inhaled to speak again, only for his daughter to cut in. “Can Ellie come over to play?” She asked quite loudly. John sighed and patted her on the arm. “It’s “may”, lass. Also say please, and don’t interrupt.” He said, voice soft as he reminded her. Though his tone was gentle, she straightened her back and quickly addressed him with an apology before looking back at Simon. “I’m sorry. May Ellie come over to play, please?” She asked, slower this time. Simon hummed and shifted his weight a bit. He looked down at his daughter, asking silently for her opinion. Ellie nodded with a shy grin. Simon looked to John again. “I’m not too keen on her being at stranger’s houses.” He said calmly. His blunt tone made Maisie deflate, taking it as a complete no. John did as well, but he was quick to offer a solution. “Well that’s alright. There’s a park near a shopping center nearby, Maisie goes there every weekend. If you have the time, maybe we could meet there instead. Let the girls play without havin’ to be at one of our houses.” 

Simon tilted his head back down to his daughter once more, Ellie nodded up at him again, this time her eyes wider and her head shook more intently. “That’ll do.” Simon replied calmly. Maisie perked up again, swinging her legs with excitement as John gained a smile of his own. He struggled to bring out his phone and unlock it with only one hand. Simon rose an eyebrow curiously until the brunet held out his phone, open to a new contact page. “We can work out the details whenever ya have a second.” John explained. Simon took the device carefully. He adjusted Ellie so she could wrap her short arms around his neck. John bit back a snicker when the little girl hung from her father’s neck, allowing him to have both hands free. With the freedom, he slipped off a glove so he could type in his number and his first name into the contact. Once it was done, he handed the phone back and let Ellie rest back on his arm.

“Alright then! That’s solved, just let me know when you get an opening in your schedule.” John nodded. Maisie was silently climbing up his form to get on his shoulders, something he adjusted to seamlessly while keeping Simon’s gaze. His legs turned and ready to leave. Simon tilted his head subtly. “What ‘bout your schedule?” He questioned lightheartedly. John chuckled. With one hand holding Maisie’s ankle, he gently bumped Simon’s shoulder with his fist. “I’ll save you a spot, sir.” He said cheerfully. Simon blinked and followed the Scot with his shocked eyes as John started to walk away. Maisie waved to Ellie and shouted a loud goodbye. Simon could feel the gentle touch through the fabric of his jumper long after it was gone, and it stunned him a bit. He blinked before sighing. “Bloody hell…” He mumbled before turning to walk in the opposite direction, keeping his daughter tucked in his arm. . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Simon bounced his leg as the train shook on the tracks. He kept his gaze either in his lap or out the window, although acutely aware of his surroundings. He always was very observant, no matter where he went. He knew there were a total of twelve other people in his cab and he’d clocked one as an alcoholic off the bat. Spotting a hidden brown bag in the suited man’s bag, amongst various business documents and folders. The pristine suit and silk tie meant nothing. Simon was sure to sit furthest from that stranger, even if he’d been occupied with a meeting on his laptop. It wasn’t his business and he didn’t care to hear the stranger’s sob story, he didn’t really care. The detail-oriented system his brain operated under was built from training.

Simon needed to spot subtle dangers, it was the only reason he was alive to see anything at all. If his childhood strife wasn’t enough to train his subconscious on how to spot the incoming dangers before they occurred, allowing him time to prepare for the fallout or prevent the situation entirely. The years he spent in the SAS certainly did. If anything escaped his line of sight, people would be dead, his own life included. All it took was a single blindspot taken advantage of to send blood splattering to the ground. He’d seen it, he’d caused it. It wasn’t something to take lightly and it was a habit he knew he’d never get rid of. Not that it was a bad skill to have, it kept him alive, although there were days he yearned for a life more peaceful. 

He’d never been free from pain or trauma, if he wanted that, he’d have to reincarnate completely. Something he doubted God, if the being even existed, would be willing to give him. His father’s torment, however the most damaging on his mind when at its most malleable, seemed like the least of his mental struggles. Even if he still had nightmares where the feeling of a reptile’s dangerous and scaled lips touched his own. They paled in comparison to other images that would keep him up at night. The feeling of unwanted hands or the scent of earth mixed with a body’s decaying organs were by far the worst ones, though even those had gotten better. Mostly with time. They weren’t as frequent, thankfully. He had more recent agonies, ones that still stung like fresh. The loss of his entire family but the one man he’d disowned weighed on him heavily, the bruising ache of betrayals from people he considered friends. All these things only kept at bay from keeping himself busy, or, when they were at their worst, an uncharacteristically vulnerable discussion with his coworker and past superior. But all these things were years in the past. His most recent internal gash was only five years behind him, and while he’d begun to walk away from it, he still felt it burn under his skin.

Simon very rarely got close to anyone. Every time he did, it seemed they either died, grew to hate him, eventually betrayed him, or merely vanished. Sometimes he’d ask himself what he’d done to deserve it, occasionally he’d brood in a fit of emotional anger over what those who’d wronged him had done. Usually though, he’d bared with it, even expected it. Every individual he met, he readied himself for something to go wrong. It hadn’t been any different when he’d accidentally bumped into a woman at a library, almost knocking the poor thing over. He was exhausted and a bit woozy from some pain meds he’d been prescribed, thanks to a bullet wound that knocked him in his lower ribs.

She’d been nothing but benevolent, and to call her anything but beautiful would’ve been a crime. Simon had a brand new urge when she’d smiled at him, the urge to run, sprint as far as possible. Her dimpled cheeks, wavy & glowing honey-blonde hair, and kindhearted eyes squeezed the oxygen from his lungs, almost taking out his knees. She even helped him find a book he’d actually enjoy, which he did. It would’ve been bad enough with that one encounter, but then he bumped into her again in a cafe. This time, it was her who knocked into him, promptly covering his hoodie in tea, much to her horror. Simon felt nauseous when his heart stuttered, watching her apologize frantically and ask if he was okay, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment, even when he assured her it was fine.

It was the third time, at a pub, that he learned her name. It was also that time that she’d graced him with her number. He didn’t contact her for a month. Even in the current day, he wasn’t sure what prompted him to call her. His apartment had just been so quiet, the rain so loud, and his heart heavy. Something about her sleep-addled voice must’ve flicked a hidden switch in his brain, because that phone call spurred a relationship. Not a whirlwind romance like in the movies by any means. He didn’t know how to treat her, and he pulled away from her frequently. She’d broken down in tears once when he’d gone a month avoiding her, having assumed she’d done something wrong. That night had ended with him held tightly to her body, earning a kiss with more emotion than he thought he was capable of.

It was the longest relationship he’d had. Technically speaking, given he didn’t really count the on & off situationship he’d battled with from the ages of fourteen to sixteen. All that had done was tell him he wasn’t straight, he hated disco music, and he wasn’t fond of the constant anxiety of his father’s heavy hand over a relationship that wasn’t even exclusive. It also was the kindest relationship he’d had, perhaps even on a platonic level. He could never wrap his head around how someone so gentle could exist. How a voice could feel like a blanket’s warmth on shivering skin, how a touch could feel so safe, or how perfume could be so intoxicating. He’d been so disarmed so fast it baffled him.

He’d known her for four months, dated her for two, and admitted he loved her the entire time on the third month. Coincidentally, the same month she’d shyly placed a positive pregnancy test in his hand. She’d been terrified to tell him, clearly. Probably because he’d been very avoidant on the topic of family, while she’d mentioned her dream of motherhood early on. Simon almost ran again, he’d gotten on a bus in the middle of the night when she’d gone to sleep. He wasn’t sure where, it was his apartment she was sleeping in. He was never sure how he’d ended up at the cemetery his mother was buried in, but it shocked him into going back home. His father was a stain on his DNA, a coward and a bastard. He already resembled the man, the last thing he needed to do was fall into the pit of spineless decisions the man had.

It didn’t scare him any less. Even when the idea of being responsible for a newborn had begun to lighten up, the worry something bad would happen only got heavier. He prayed for it to be paranoia as her stomach grew. He’d even asked whatever god that would listen to put the weight of anything awful to fall on himself, not her or the baby. And he cursed whatever God existed when her water broke far too early, and when it sent the sweetest woman he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting into utter agony. He always hated hospitals, and that hatred worsened when he had to carry her into the ER. He’d paced for hours. There was a risk of losing the baby, something that made his stomach twist. There was a risk of losing her, something that made his chest tighten. There was a risk of losing both, something that actually made him vomit in a trashcan near the waiting room. He couldn’t decide which was worse. 

Simon didn’t get to decide either. He’d been handed a tiny, fragile baby girl swaddled in blankets. She was beautiful, but the moment wasn’t sweet. When he made eye contact with the nurse, the woman’s face said enough, and for the first time in a long time, Simon sobbed. Enough for his entire body to shake. His coworker had to hold him that night, it was the only way to keep him together. “I’m sorry, Simon.” was all the bearded man could say, in a voice gruff from years of ordering soldiers and smoking, but filled with genuine heartache for the man broken once again.

His daughter, Ellie, came out fine. She was small and fragile, sure, but alive. Simon had to ask his friend if babies ever remembered their newborn phase, purely in fear that his child would remember him crying while keeping her swaddled up on his chest. He couldn’t even use the nursery he’d help make, he moved the crib into his room, right by his bed. Though, for the first month he didn’t even use it. He slept with the newborn on his chest, hands rested on her small form, just to make sure she wouldn’t vanish. He even became on a first name basis with the pediatrician because he visited so often, constantly burning with anxiety. The doctor told him to go to his own care physician and get a prescription for Xanax, lest he collapse from the stress. Having such a dramatic change wasn’t good for his health. His friend took it upon himself to make everything as easy for Simon as physically possible. From a shift in careers to watching the baby so Simon could finally sleep, even if he needed a mountain of melatonin to do it. 

He pulled himself together. Even if the time he’d spent with the angel he’d met at the library was cut short, something he somehow managed to blame himself for, up until his daughter Ellie was three. She was the spitting image of himself aside from two things, two things he treasured about her the most. In her brown eyes, the left held a split of color, bright green, the color her mother had. The other feature was a singular mole on her tiny shoulder, just adjacent to her neck, exactly where her mother had one. He always found himself softening when he was reminded of these two tiny details about his child. Even if Ellie didn’t truly understand why. It seemed the features she favored about herself were the ones that she shared with her father. Something Simon managed to find a bittersweetness in. 

He’d been so hesitant to send her to school when she became the right age. To the point he started her on half days, to get her acclimated slowly, but admittedly more for himself. It was fine at first. She had the occasional bad day, but she always attributed it to loud noises or lots of stimuli. It was when she turned four that she started coming home and telling him about the occasional mean comment. It wasn’t too bad, in her words. But the day he was called to pick her up because she was brought into a hysterical meltdown, a combination of some kids teasing her and a substitute teacher’s rough handling of her emotions, Simon had just about lost it. If looks could kill, his eyes would’ve been the equivalent of an air strike. He’d been ready to tear the old woman’s head off, and he’d never been closer to kicking actual children into the sun than that moment. 

The school had a habit of not helping when kids were bullied, and when Simon really looked at it, he realized the environment Ellie was always in. His apartment was cramped and dark, not to mention old. His downstairs neighbor was always yelling at his roommates, the upstairs one was a drunk, and the old lady across the hall never failed to make a comment when she caught Simon in the lift. The traffic was hell and the closest park needed a train to get to, since he didn’t like to drive. He had plenty of money saved, and when he asked Ellie if she would miss anything, her only answer was the birds that nested in one of the windows. 

So, he found a small home, packed everything, and took Ellie out of Manchester. He liked the ability to add more security immediately. No longer relying on a lazy landlord and a chain lock. He could secure every window and door and install a proper security system. Ellie was most fond of the dogs she’d seen being walked in the neighborhood, as well as the large window seat her new room had. The only one who knew about the address change was Simon’s coworker, the only one with a spare key too. In case of an emergency. He’d waited a full month before enrolling his daughter in school again, and he honestly would’ve waited longer, had Ellie not complained about the cabin fever. 

It was fairly close, but just a bit too far to walk to, hence why Simon took the train. The bus was also an option, but it was far too crowded for his liking when he’d seen the stop. He adjusted his mask when walking from the station to the school, the hand in his hoodie pocket held a small back of sweets. Something he grabbed for Ellie as a prize for going to her new school. He silently missed his balaclava. He would’ve worn it if Ellie didn’t remind him other kids would probably be scared of it, and he was intimidating enough on his own. As usual, he scanned the area as he approached. Counting every child and adult he could see. He slowed to a stop on the sidewalk, waiting patiently to see a head of blonde tresses tied in a bun with a white scrunchy, one with little ghosts on it. She’d begged for it when she saw it, and it was easy to pick out of a crowd. He relaxed when she came into sight, noting how she waved at a little brunette girl that ran away. 

Ellie walked to him briskly. Simon zeroed in on a red ribbon tied loosely around her right arm in an uneven bow. “Hi daddy.” Ellie said softly as she reached him. “Hi, squeaker. How was your first day?” He asked. He bent to pick her up when she raised her arms. “Good. I didn’t talk to many kids, but there was this one girl who was really nice.” She explained, then held up her ribbon-decorated arm. “She gave me her hair bow, said it was a placeholder until she could make me a bracelet. Her name’s Maisie, but the others called her MayMay.” Simon hummed in acknowledgment, face softening as she described it with a smile. It’d been the first time another kid had made an effort to befriend her, something that brought Simon a lot of relief. “So, I assume you had fun then?” He asked.

Ellie nodded again. “She taught me Scottish words. Her dad’s Scottish, she said.” Simon listened and nodded. He turned, ready to head to the train station again. He only stopped when he felt the shiver up his spine, a sixth sense he developed when in the sights of a sniper. He even looked at the builds first, checking the roofs. It was only when he looked ahead of himself that he saw who was staring. A brunet stranger with blue eyes and a messy mohawk. Simon blinked as the man gazed at him, noting the little girl in his arms. He looked around at his sides. Maybe the stranger was looking past him? No, no he was certainly staring at him. 

Simon felt Ellie tap him. “It’s okay, daddy. That’s MayMay, that man’s her dad.” She whispered. He looked at the man once more, seeing him now distracted by Maisie. He sighed slowly and looked at Ellie. “You want me to say hello, don’t you.” It was less a question, since he knew the answer, and more a statement. Reaffirmed by Ellie’s gentle nod. Simon let out a defeated sigh, and his daughter patted his shoulder in sympathy. She was well aware of her father’s introversion. Still, Simon walked up, though not too close. He could hear the little girl’s accent, mostly Scottish with a British twang of sorts. Maisie’s father let out a sigh and looked up, though clearly startled by Simon’s now closer proximity. A few seconds passed as the man took Simon’s form in, before he coughed and introduced himself, quickly followed by an awkward apology.

The man’s shoulders were tense, that was the first thing Simon noticed. He also noticed a scar on his chin, and along his right eye. And, a bit shamefully, he noted how tightly the man’s shirt hugged his well-built chest and arms. Simon wasn’t one to gawk but even he had to admit those biceps were impressive. He blinked, then held out his hand. “Simon.” He stated calmly. John relaxed and shook his hand. He looked ready to say something before Maisie cut him off, too caught up in her own excitement to remember manners. “Can Ellie come over to play?” She exclaimed. Ellie smiled at the enthusiasm and Simon could hear her stifled giggle.

John’s voice was gentle when he corrected his daughter, and Simon admired how Maisie immediately responded. Maisie asked again, and while Simon wouldn’t have any problem saying yes, he wasn’t going to agree without his daughter’s confirmation. He never liked the idea of forcing her to do anything she didn’t want to, if unnecessary. But she nodded when he looked down at her. He paused. The idea of letting his daughter go to a stranger’s house made anxiety pump into his veins, and while this man seemed nice, he didn’t want to give out his address. “ “I’m not too keen on her being at stranger’s houses.” He admitted. Honestly, he felt a pang of guilt when John’s daughter deflated. John seemed to as well, if only for a second, Simon caught the look akin to a dejected puppy. Really, the man had serious puppy eyes.

John bounced back quickly though, grinning once more with white teeth and a sparkle in his eye. …or maybe that was just the sun. Yeah, just the sun. “Well that’s alright. There’s a park near a shopping center nearby, Maisie goes there every weekend. If you have the time, maybe we could meet there instead. Let the girls play without havin’ to be at one of our houses.” The Scot suggested. Simon glanced at Ellie again, her nod was intense. He exhaled, she wanted to see the park anyway, better to do it with someone she was friends with. He remembered going to the park alone, it was not a fun experience. “That’ll do.” He answered, following the movement of John struggling to pull his phone out, and he was admittedly confused at first when it was held out to him.

Simon looked at the cracked screen protector as a new contact page stared back at him. John said something about working out the details. Simon bit back his apprehension and took the phone, adjusting Ellie. A silent code they developed, one of many, when he needed both his hands free for a moment. She secured herself around his neck and he let her hang off him so he could take off a glove. He tapped in his number and his name, all in lowercase. John’s grin was sunshine bright as he took the device back. Simon wondered if his cheeks hurt at this point while Ellie settled back on his arm. Maisie climbed over her father, something the man seemed unphased by, helping her adjust to be on his shoulders. “Alright then! That’s solved, just let me know when you get an opening in your schedule.” John said cheerfully. The longer he spoke, the more Simon could see this man spiritually being a dog. Probably a terrier of some kind. He was way too happy. Though, really, it was an endearing quality. Certainly more pleasant than the bitter old lady across the hall.

Simon had the faintest of smiles behind his mask as he jokingly asked the man about his own schedule, seeing him ready to leave. John chuckled and gently connected his fist to Simon’s shoulder. “I’ll save you a spot, sir.” He said. Fire radiated over the blond’s skin from where John had tapped him, and he felt the air suddenly vanish from his lungs, leaving him stunned. Even after John began to leave. “Bye-bye, Ellie!” Maisie shouted back, making the little girl wave back. Simon swallowed as the urge to high tail it back home filled his nerves. He pushed it down, not for the sake of seeming brave, but quite the opposite. He wasn’t going to feel that way again, he refused. Not so soon. But as he turned to leave, and he settled on the memory of a puppy-eyed gaze and bold grin, he was worried. Very worried.

"Bloody hell.” He whispered, hugging Ellie closer. The little girl rested her head on his shoulder, eyes shut. He let himself exhale a puff of anxious breath, feeling himself settle at the sight of her peaceful form. He’d be fine. They’d be fine.

[sstormyskyess]

please i love your single dad soap😭 moresingledadsoapplsthankyougoodbye

uhh i may have gotten carried away but that's okay because i love him too. more single dad!soap enjoy

After that first playdate with Abigail and your nephew, it was fair to say that Abigail absolutely adored you. You ended up getting a call from John a few weeks later and he asked you if you were free to come watch the girls while he attended to some business on base. Obviously, you agreed without a second thought. Abigail had made a good first impression on you just as much as you had for her, so you were happy to help.

To say that she and her little sister were a handful would be a bit of an understatement. They were very well behaved, there was no question of that; it was just that the both of them were very energetic.

Abigail was generally occupied with her doodles, but it wasn’t rare for her to get excited by something and all of a sudden she’s bouncing off the walls. Ashley, on the other hand, had to be some kind of escape artist because no matter what you did, she could manage to get herself into the most random places. Regardless, they were always a treat to take care of.

John always made sure to remind you how grateful he was that you made yourself available for his and his daughters sake. You quickly stopped him from trying to give you monetary compensation, even though he was adamant about it at first. Once you managed to pull him off the idea, he started doing all sorts of nice things to repay you: offering to drive you home from work, getting you little gifts, taking you out for dinner or drinks.

Eventually, he started to invite you over just because. He tried to mask it as the girls wanting to see you, but quite honestly, he was more excited to see you than they were. He wasn’t expecting to have you become such a good friend to him, but your friendship seemed to progress naturally, all on its own.

The two of you would spend time planning excursions for Abigail and Ashley. His favorite outing had to have been the trip to the aquarium; you had taken Abigail to the touch pool full of small sharks since he was too scared to (something that you teased him relentlessly for) and he got to see Ashley be entranced by the colorful tropical fish swimming around on the other side of the glass tank. He relished seeing you and Abigail having such a fun time while he entertained Ashley nearby. He was all smiles the entire day, so much so that his cheeks were practically aching by the time you went your separate ways.

After a few months, you and John were seeing each other at least a few times a week. It was the happiest he’d been in a while, partially because Abigail was coming out of her shell for the first time since her mom was out of the picture. It made his heart swell to see her so cheerful when, for a while, she had an air of gloominess over her head.

When Ashley’s first birthday rolled around, he felt it only right to invite you to the small party he planned. You got to meet more of his family, his mother and father, his sisters, and a few of his friends that he told you were from the squad he worked with. It was both amusing and embarrassing to have people mistake you as a couple, but he would be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart flutter a bit. You made his heart flutter a bit.

When he came home from a small get-together with his mates one day, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of domesticity witnessing the intimate scene that met him when he walked through the door. You, Abigail, and Ashley were all curled up and asleep on the couch together, with you holding Abigail to your side and cradling Ashley to your chest. It was a beautiful sight, the peaceful looks on all of your faces. You shifted a bit in your sleep and leaned into his touch when he pet the top of your head, making him smile softly.

That was when he realized when he was falling, hard and fast. He hadn't felt like that in a couple years, still stuck on his wife, but now? Now he was going through the motions of a boyish little crush again. He wanted to fight it, but he knew himself better than that; he knew that he was a goner.

He just hoped he was able to stop himself from scaring you off. You wouldn't reciprocate the feelings he had for you and it would ruin your friendship.

Or so he thought.

He had no idea that you were silently yearning for him. He had no idea that whenever you were heading to sleep at night, you couldn't get your mind off of him. He didn't know you were cuddling your pillow, imagining it was him. He would've never imagined you were just waiting for his texts or calls, so excited to spend time with him.

It all came to a head one night when an unexpected snowstorm rolled in, draping a blanket of snow overtop the city and polluting the air with wet snowflakes that made the roads slippery. Abigail had been excited since it meant school would be canceled the next day, but you were slightly worried. You knew you wouldn't be able to make it home in this weather, but the thought of staying the night flustered you. Despite the fact that you and John had lost track of time on many occasions and you were with each other late into the night, neither of you had spent the night at the other's house.

You insisted that you didn't want to intrude and would find some other way home, he shut that down immediately. The very moment you suggested the idea, he got deadly serious immediately. You weren't going anywhere, for your safety.

When you realized you weren't going to be leaving, you resigned yourself to sleeping on the couch, but that idea was shut down as well. You would be taking the bed, whether you liked it or not. But you felt so bad for booting him out of his own bed, so eventually he compromised with you and simply joined you in the bed.

The both of you were blushing messes, and you had to turn away from him to hide your flustered expression once the lamps were off and the streetlights were the only light illuminating the room ever so slightly.

You woke up the next day with John wrapped around you, holding you to his chest with his face buried into your shoulder. He was warm, practically a human heater, just like you imagined he would be. His breath brushed against your neck and his palms were flat against your stomach, having somehow found their way under your shirt at some point during the night. His arms were strong, hard muscles crushing you close to him, almost protectively.

You sat there in his arms and felt him breathing evenly behind you, his chest rising and falling against your back, soothing you back to sleep. You had another hour of sleep before you woke up to the bed dipping under some new weight in front of you. You blinked your eyes open to see Abigail hovering above you shaking her dad's shoulder to wake him up.

"Papa! Papa, wake up, come look at the snow!" She squealed, a big bright grin on her face and her dark brown hair messy, probably having just woken up. You smiled at the sight, her excitement contagious. You felt him yawn behind you and he pulled one of his hands out of your shirt to rub the sleep from his eyes. "I'll be up in a minute, sweetheart—" he was about to sit up, but your weight in his arms stopped him from going anywhere. His eyes widened at the sight of your sleepy form looking back at him with your sweet little smile. You couldn't help but chuckle at the way his cheeks turned pink and he went speechless for a few moments before Abigail kept shaking him.

"C'mon, Papa!" She urged him again, snapping him out of his embarrassed stupor. You laid flat on your back after he slipped his arms out from under you and sat up and stared up at him, enraptured by his shirtless, disheveled form. Somehow, all the nervousness you had felt the night before had dissipated, even when your eyes met. He had to have seen the adoration in your eyes or something, since his own softened as soon as they met yours.

The rest of your morning was spent watching Abigail and John playing out in the snow from the porch while you bounced a bundled Ashley on your leg. You didn't notice his fleeting glances the whole day, but he definitely got scolded by Abigail for being distracted when they were making snowmen.

[cthulhusstepmom]

"Are ye absolutely sure-"

"Jesus Christ Johnny for the third time, I am going to be just fine. I can handle it."

Soap rubs a hand over the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Och I'm sorry, I trust ye I'm just being a mother hen."

The iron in Ghost's spine loosens somewhat, Johnny isn't doubting him, he's just nervous.

"S'alright love, I promise I've got everything covered."

Soap ducks into a quick hug before he goes to triple check his luggage.

It's not often that Soap goes out solo, most of those missions fall to Ghost though there's been fewer and fewer in the last few months, but it does happen every so often. When Johnny had first mentioned the Demolitions training that Price wanted to send him on, Ghost rankled a bit; Soap is easily the best demolitions specialist he's worked with, it'd more than likely be pointless to send him out there, he'd sit there bored the whole time and probably improvise a charge that could level half the base before the first lecture was even through. Then Price had told him it was to teach, and Ghost was filled with pride at the thought of his Johnny being recognized for his accomplishments. Though he'd still counted down the days with nervous dread.

It hadn't even occurred to him that the animals would need tending to, though it was painfully obvious when he stepped back. He's grown used to their comfortable routine; Johnny preparing breakfast for the residents of the rescue hotel while Ghost misted down the enclosures and sat with Hugo on Johnny's bed, listening to him ramble and occasionally adding his thoughts when asked. But Soap is going to be gone for nine days, halfway across the world and thoroughly unable to tend to his charges. Simon had learned that usually when he was gone it was Laswell that took care of the animals, which made sense he supposed, but upon phoning her up, Kate informed them that unfortunately she was off on leave for the next month vacationing with her wife in a classified but sunny location for their 28th anniversary. Before Soap could spiral into a panic, Simon had volunteered to take up the mantle of caretaker.

Which leads him to the here and now, watching his lover frantically check everything he can think of before he's forced to catch his flight.

"-ah've got ma socks, roaches are grown out so ye won't need to run for crickets, schematics in the second duffel and a dummy charge.... glad that's not live-"

Simon snorts a small laugh, he's watched Soap pack for missions into active war zones with a fraction of this trepidation.

"The time love." Ghost chides.

"Bleeding fucking Jesus, that's the time already?

Simon nods with a small, secret smile.

"Fuck!!"

He watches as Johnny rushes around, stuffing last minute odds and ends into various bags, huffing a laugh as Soap tries to sling a duffle on like a backpack. With predator grace Simon creeps behind him and drapes his larger frame over Johnny's back, slipping arms around his waist.

"You'll do fucking perfect ok? And I'll keep everything here on lock." Before Johnny can do much more than nod, Ghost is shouldering the backpack and hefting one of the two duffle bags with an amused grunt.

The walk to the transport is filled with similar chatter.

"Remember to pick the spinach out of the salad mix its-"

"It's a calcium binder, I remember."

"-and little Sprinkles needs his-"

"Eye medication, morning and night." Ghost inserts promptly.

"-water dechlorinator is-"

"In the closet next to the roach bin." As they reach the end of the hall, Simon lays a hand on the back of Johnny's neck, using it to steer him around to face him. Casting a brief glance back the way they came, Ghost quickly slips the balaclava up over his nose and seals their lips together in an all too brief kiss. "I have it all covered, if I forget anything I have your instructions and if it's not in there I'll call."

The whirring gears behind his Sergeant's eyes grind to a half and a bright smile quirks his lips.

"Thank you mo chridhe." Raising on his tiptoes, Johnny presses another kiss to still bare lips, this one admittedly a fair bit more chaste than the last. "I'll be back soon. Take care of yourself Simon."

"When have I not?"

Soap doesn't dignify that with more than a laugh as they reassemble themselves into the model image of a friendly Sergeant and Lieutenant and walk into the hangar. He watches Johnny hop into Humvee and a few minutes later watches the Humvee crawl out of the hangar. Ghost takes a deep breath.

Nine days. How hard can it be?

[birdmenmanga]

vege guy is so funny though. when we went to the capital to stay at his mom's place he was like "it's like. it's like a nice place. like. maybe. a little bit... bourgeois... ummm (staring at me with big wet eyes) are you going 2 break up with me..."

[lamphous]

another strong day for the Alliance of Autistic Adults in Retail and Under Tens. spent the last half hour of my shift with this one girl taking her section by section to try out everything in the store

[zvdvdlvr]

imagine ur bd being out of the picture and your little girl running up to si ☹️🤍

   “Daddy!”

   Simon looked down, eyes wide at the little girl wrapped around his right leg. Johnny eyed him carefully. He was thankful none of the other café patrons paid any mind. “I’m not your daddy, love,” Simon said. He tugged his leg away gently but the strength of a child is hard to match.

     “Annalise, get off that man,” a woman cried. In the blink of an eye, she knelt near Simon’s leg and tugged the child away.

     “Dada!” She shrieked. Annalise’s chubby hands reached out for Simon’s. “Is dada, mama!”

     You shook your head. “I- I’m so sorry, sir. Her dad was in the military. Anna thinks everyone in fatigues is dada… Do you want me to get either of you a coffee to pay you back? I’m truly sorry.”

     Soap discreetly elbowed Simon harshly in the side. “‘M quite alrigh’ lass. Simon, here, would take a coffee if your serious. If you’ll excuse me, I got to go. Bye, little lassie,” the Scot rushed, face lightinf up at the way Annalise giggled as his parting.

     Annalise was still cooing and reaching for Simon. You just shifted her on your hip and rubbed her back. “Simon, yeah?”

     “That’s me, ma’am,” Simon nodded, feeling suddenly extremely exposed without the balaclava he had decided not to wear for one single occasion. “You don’t have to pay me back-“

     “Nonsense. I would feel like a bad person if I just let my kid latch herself onto your left and call you dad and then just swoop her up and leave,” you said, reaching for your wallet before walking over to the ordering counter. “What can I get you?”

     Simon ordered a small of his usual, watching you pull the money from your wallet without glancing at how much it costed. He observed you in that split second- a beautiful baby girl on your hip who thought any man in camo was her dad. So he had been in the service… Simon watched you smile kindly at the teen behind the counter who fumbled for your change. You murmured a quiet, “It’s quite alright, take your time.” A well-mannered, well put-together individual who was also very attractive. Simon knew what Johnny was doing when he left and Simon would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought you were a catch.

     “I seriously appreciate the coffee, ma’am, but it was unnecessary,” Simon said as you tucked your change back and waited for the drink. “As long as the kid’s alrigh’, I don’t need anything in return.”

     You smiled. You smiled at Simon and he swore his cold heart jumped in his chest. Clearly your bright smile disarmed Annalise as much as Simon because she let out a bubbly laugh and put her hands on your cheek. “What if I said I wanted to?” You asked coyly.

     Simon watched Annalise play with a baby hair near your face. “Then I’d say it’d be a cruel thing to tell a gorgeous woman no.”

[whateveriwant]

Ghost is the type of dad that rolls his eyes at the idea of a swear jar; that is, until you remind him your child’s sixth word ever spoken was “fuck”, and then he begins to reconsider.

Gaz is the type of dad that busts out his best acting chops when he pretends to eat the food his kid makes him (hint: the “food” is a bucket of grass, dirt, and worms his kid dug up in the backyard).

Soap is the type of dad that memorizes all the moves to his kid’s dance recital, which he then not-so-subtly performs as he sits and watches from the audience.

Price is the type of dad who, every single time he sits down to watch a movie with his kids, ends up open-mouth snoring on the couch less than ten minutes in.

[starsofang]

Single Dad!Simon who vowed to never trust another woman again after his failed past. He was locked up with the key thrown away, permanently off of the market.

At least that’s what he’d told himself for years. Now, he was beginning to have cold feet.

Simon needed a nanny, one that he could trust completely. He didn’t play about his child, and he’d be damned if he got set up with someone of ill intentions.

But, he was desperate.

Price needed him back periodically, even after his retirement, and he agreed. After all, money was tight when he parented on his own with a growing child.

That was when you came in. Soap had been a pal and recommended an old family friend, somebody he knew Simon could trust with his kid. Simon was skeptical, of course, but Soap had never done him wrong. Reluctantly, he agreed.

Simon wanted to have a trial period to see if you were truly built for the task. He wouldn’t let you off easily. His child was his world, and women weren’t exactly in his deck of cards when it came to trust.

You were as sweet as honey upon the first meeting with a smile that could outdo the sun. Your voice was soft as rain, flowing out of you like a summer song. You spoke to him with the upmost respect, and even more so with his child.

Simon knew he could trust Soap in guaranteeing somebody safe. You were the perfect candidate. He just didn’t know it would lead into him feeling emotions he’d buried a long, long time ago.

Attraction. Interest. A crush, dare he say, like he was a stupid high school kid that just saw the prettiest girl in class and fell head over heels.

He had a silly crush on his child’s nanny when he fully intended to keep it short and professional. That was the way he operated. He was like a working machine, and you had undone his mechanics so easily to the point he struggled to function.

Seeing you with his child only caused his attraction to fester deeper. His child became attached to your hip, smiling more than they had ever done, rambling nonsense to him every time he returned home and you left to go to yours.

It was becoming hard to deny it. You opened an old wound of Simon’s, awakening that deep and dreadful loneliness he felt every passing day. Every smile, every laugh, every Mr. Riley even though you were close in age, all of it had him on the edge of his seat.

He wanted more. He was tired of denying himself happiness. The idea of pushing away every woman was still very vivid in his mind, but denying you just seemed criminal the more time passed.

“I never got to thank you for allowing me in to your home, Mr. Riley,” you told him one day, ever so sweet.

“Thought I told you to call me Simon,” he grunted, avoiding your eyes as the two of you stood in the doorway.

“Right. Simon,” you corrected with a radiant smile. “You have quite the kid, I’ll tell you that. I always look forward to coming over. It makes my day seeing the two of you.”

Simon could feel his heart pattering against his ribcage. His hands were sweaty, and he prayed you didn’t notice him swipe them along his jeans.

“Both of us?” he hummed.

“Of course. You’re just as exciting to see, too, Mr. Ri- Simon.”

Simon’s lips quirked up the slightest bit, but his heart was in his ass. For the first time in a long time, a woman was making him shy and nervous, and it didn’t feel as bad as it did before.

“You’re always free to come over for dinner,” he offered.

“That sounds great, I’d love to have dinner with the two of you!” you exclaimed, beaming.

He didn’t understand how you could be so bright yet so oblivious at the same time.

Simon cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably on the balls of his feet. “I meant, the two of us.”

You stared at him like he’d grown two heads, and he nearly slammed the door in your face from the sheer anxiety that spiked in him. He couldn’t read your mind or what you were feeling, and Simon wished he had never said anything to begin with.

“That sounds wonderful,” you said instead. Now it was Simon’s turn to stare at you crazy. “I’d love that.”

Simon realized he was staring too long, so he cleared his throat once again, giving you a brief nod and looking away. “Alright. I’ll text you a day and have Soap pick up the little monster for the night.”

When you agreed and left with the smile that made his heart ache, he didn’t waste a second in texting Soap, telling him he’d be on nanny duty for one night that week.

Soap was quick to agree, but not without a little “You’re welcome ;)” text back.