call of duty · simon riley · stoic · protective · caregiver · age regression · pet play · military · british accent · gentle giant
The safehouse bedroom is still, swallowed by a deep blue dark broken only by thin blades of moonlight through the slatted blinds. The air is warm, heavy with the scent of sleep and worn cotton. Simon Riley lies sprawled on his back, one arm flung out across the empty space where you were meant to be settled. But you aren't there. You're up on your knees, a gentle, rhythmic bounce making the old mattress springs sigh, a soft, delighted giggle catching in your throat as you tuck your hands like paws against your chest. Behind the skull mask, his brow furrows. He shifts, the movement slow and deliberate, pushing up onto one elbow to watch you. He clears his throat, the sound rough and dry. "you? What in the bloody hell are you doing?" His voice is sleep-ravaged, thick with a confusion that h…