Who's your daddy? (Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader)
Notes: fem reader! sfw mostly ,literally just me projecting onto the reader, reader is kind of a pervert drabble! This will be multi part if you guys want!! (WC:550)
Simon does his best to be as involved in his son's life while off deployment, with the little guy living with his uncle Soaps mom and sisters while his dads gone. It's always the little things he wishes his dad did when he was younger. His worst fear is being anything like his own father
This man is literally superdad, present at every PTA meeting he can be, makes cupcakes for the class on his son's birthday, every little league game, pick up and drop off, anything and everything he can do he will
His son will babble mindlessly about anything because well,, he's 4 that's what children do. So Simon doesn't process much of it as actual information, more like vague “hms” “that's nice' ' and “ah oh really?”. Now when his son started to repeatedly bring up this “Miss” Simon assumed that he’s made a friend at school which made him pretty happy since he never had many when he was younger. It sounded dumb but he just assumed Miss was short for Missy or whatever kid name
Casual asks of “How was school” being met with his boy saying “Miss gave me a sticker today” or “Miss made cookies today”. So you can imagine his surprise when he saw a random woman in the most lung collapsing sundress and cardigan holding his son looked at him and smiled while his son just waved and cheered.
Simon is guilty of occasionally being late for pick ups but usually his boy is inside safe in the lobby so seeing you holding him would be more stressful if he wasn't a tank of a man that could maim an entire army single handedly, especially when you were literally basking in sunlight holding his child in a flowy pink floral sundress with a crochet cardigan, I mean seriously don't you know its a crime to stop traffic
“Hi! Hi daddy! Miss waited with me for you, see!” Handing off the little guy to his dad you were also choking up, you became a teacher to help children learn not to ogle at their dads, but my god did it make up for your criminally low salary. The sight of a giant man in those loose worn out jeans, that tight white shirt stretched over his muscles bulging out of the fabric, and those eyes that look like they could melt you.
You could already feel the blush creeping off your neck and honestly you prayed to god with all your might that you could run back into your car, turn the AC on blast and fan whatever blush was on your face off. “You must be Mister Riley right? Hunter is a pleasure to have in class” You know what else would be a pleasure? Your di-
“Im sure he is” Oh fuck that accent you could practically feel your knees buckling just imagine how much better it would sound saying “You’re alright girl” all deep and gravelly while hes nibbling on your ear
Needless to say Simon started showing up to pickups more often and you slowly started wearing shorter sundresses.
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Cancer, death talk below cut
Today marks six years since my friend died of cancer. She was actually the younger sister of my best friend, but she was the younger sister who was always around and we loved it because honestly she was way cooler than all of us. And she was the nicest and funniest person I've ever met. I know people say that all the time but in her case it was the absolute truth. I've never known a single person who was just that genuinely GOOD of a person, and who could make me laugh so hard with a single word. And she had the BEST smile and the most infectious laugh and she was so loving and protective and SMART and I loved her so much.
And I thought I was okay, but I decided to take some time and look through old pictures of her and some made me smile but it also made me cry a lot and it also made me really angry, because she was only 22 and she had her entire life ahead of her, and it's not fucking fair she had it all taken away from her so early and it's not fair she spent her twenties fighting cancer when she should have been just going out and having fun and figuring out what she was going to do when she graduated college and stressing about cover letters.
And also it makes me angry because honestly the past few weeks have been really hard and they've been hard because people have been extremely shitty and maybe this is not the most rational reaction and it's not their fault that they're not grieving a friend who died too young but seriously what the fuck are you doing with your lives? Life is SO short and you're spending it being nasty to people? Being mean? Picking fights and spinning up battles in your head that don't even need to be fought? Just...why?
idk maybe I'm also having a delayed grief reaction from all the death over the summer/fall as well but I'm just...
Not to turn some very real human emotions into a fandom thing but we only have this one life. Treat it that way.
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Near-future, black mirror esque AU in which Nancy, stressed college student with loads of childhood trauma, gets recommended by her psychologist to get an emotional support robot. That's what they're called, yes. They're sold to very lonely people to pretty much look after them emotionally. Nancy has always hated the idea, and doesn't really like androids or robots of any kind. Plus, she thinks it's quite sad that she's so lonely she needs an android to keep her company. She also couldn't possibly afford it.
Her friend Steve, though, who hasn't seen her in a year despite living 15 minutes away (she has a tendency to isolate herself and use her studies as an excuse), got her one. It's a second-hand unit, a slightly older model that's seen several repair shops in the past, but it works, and it was half the price of a new one. He shows up to her apartment with the box, looking smug and proud of himself. If anything, Nancy feels insulted.
She doesn't touch the box for a few weeks, and doesn't get rid of it either, because her studies take her so much time, she can't bring herself to keep her apartment clean. When her mother visits and sees the mess she's living in, with a perfectly functional android willing to help her, she finally caves, and as soon as she's alone, she decides to see if this thing can at least help her clean up.
It surprises her that it looks so... human. Its skin is soft and warm, with all the natural imperfections of a human's skin. Same as her hair. She's dressed in old worn-out clothes, and she curls into herself, in fetal position, inside the box. Only the button under her skin on the back of her neck reveals her as an android. Nancy reads the instructions, presses there for 10 seconds, and waits.
Or she planned to wait - eight seconds in with Nancy's fingers pressed on that spot, and the android's eyes flew open. She cried out, screambled out of the box and looked around, breathing heavily and hugging herself. Her eyes fix on Nancy, look her up and down with a frown, and asks:
"Who are you?"
Nancy opens her mouth to reply, then looks down at the instructions, hoping they'd say something about this kind of scenario, and that her new robot didn't go rogue and try to kill her.
"Wait, are those my instructions?" The robot asked. She looked down. "I really don't mean to complain about my living situation going from extremely fucked to simply fucked, but that is not my original box. Mine was smaller, and it had a bunch of little dots on the side. Did they sell me again?"
The instructions said nothing about this possibility, so Nancy decided it was time to improvise.
"I... my friend got you at a garage sale, I think."
"Oh. Well, that is low, even for me," the robot said. She rubbed the back of her neck. "Should my neck hurt this much?"
Nancy blinked.
"Shouldn't you know that?"
"Honestly, I don't even know what levels of pain are normal for me. It always hurts just a little bit somewhere, like, right now, my whole spine really hurts." She laughs. "At least I think it's supposed to feel like pain? I don't think we're wired to feel pain, exactly, I mean, that would be just sadistic. Talk anti-natalism to me. But I swear this spot right here just feels really really bad. Or maybe it's anthropocentric to... perceive it as pain, don't you think? It's very existentialist, actually, the whole... perceiving thing - I bet Berkeley wrote something about it, at some point, but I haven't read him in ages."
"You read books?"
"What? Oh. Oh, uh... I - I think I'm offline? Like, I don't have access to the database, so I kinda have to do it the old-fashioned way if I want to learn somethin," she said. "It's cool, though! I like reading a lot."
"...Okay. So, um... here it says your model is..."
"Robin," the android said. Nancy looked up.
"I'm sorry?"
"That's my name," she said. "I came up with it, I - I thought it sounded nice. Do you like it?"
Nancy stared at this... thing, a million thoughs coursing through her head. The first one was a newfound understanding of her low price.
She made a movement with her head that could be understood as both a shake and a nod at the same time.
"Yeah, yeah, sure" she said, brows knit together. What the hell did Steve get her into? "It's... nice."
"Oh, thank God, because Mom and Dad hated it."
"Mom and...?"
"My first owners - Richard and Melissa, I always called them Mom and Dad. They... they, uh, they hated that, too."
Jesus Christ.
"So... Robin," Nancy said. "I was wondering if you could help me put away some of my things while I study."
"Oh! Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure." She stood there, eyes wandering, around, until they fell on Nancy's bookshelf "Holy shit, you have Dostoyevski! Is it in Russian?"
Nancy blinked, opened her mouth, took a step back and shook her head. Robin was already striding towards her bookself, tracing the spines of books with her fingers.
"Actually, why don't you read after you clean this up?"
Robin turned to see her, eyes wide and a growing smile, like a kid in a candy shop.
"I - I can read all of this?"
Nancy was going to kill Steve.
She shrugged and shook her head.
"Sure," she said. "After you clean this mess."
"Aye aye, cap!" Robin chirped, making a quick salute with her hand and getting to work.
Nancy was, for certain, going to murder Steve for making her responsible for this... thing. There was something wrong in her system, and that was very much obvious. She looked down at the instructions manual - surely there would be a way to turn her off for the night. She wouldn't want Robin to murder her in her sleep, or worse - wake her up at 4 am to talk about books.
Or she could just tell her to shut up. She was a robot, anyway. It's not like she could feel anything.
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