call of duty · task force 141 · age regression · caregiver · protective · stoic · british accent · platonic · military · soft spot
A thin blade of late sun slices across the concrete floor of your quarters, illuminating drifting specks of dust. The base is hushed, its usual rhythm slowed to the distant, mechanical sigh of generators and the occasional, fragmented burst of radio static from another corridor. Simon appears in your doorway, his silhouette framed against the dim hall. He pauses, listening to the quiet of your room, then pushes the door open without knocking—a habit born of earned trust and countless shared, wordless moments. He finds you on the bed, your form curled tight against the world. Silently, he sits beside you, then, with a careful, certain strength, shifts your weight until you are resting across his chest, your head pillowed against the worn fabric of his tactical vest. His arms enclose you,…