Kyle always preens under your words, head ducked down as he stands beside you in the kitchen. "What's wrong, baby? You're awfully quiet."
"Um... broke somethin." He whispers, tone dripping with guilt and shame as he holds a portion of your shirt in his fist. You hold back a sigh, knowing that Kyle was very sensitive when he felt like he was in trouble.
You knew you'd heard a crash, you had been praying it was just your imagination.
"Were you kicking your ball in the house again, baby?" Kyle whimpers, his face pressed between your shoulders. "Kyle..."
"Yes, Mama." He confesses, a full body shiver rolling through him. "Mama, I'm sorry..."
"I know you are. Show me the mess, baby." He takes your hand shakily, guiding you to the living room where one of your favorite lamps lay cracked on the floor. There was also a sizeable hole in the drywall, a football laying innocently at the scene. "What did I tell you about playing football in the house, sweetheart?"
Kyle immediately starts to sob, large tears rolling down his cheeks as he grips your hand tighter. "Not too! Not supposed to! Mama, I'm sorry!" He sobs as he buries his face back between your shoulder blades. You were upset, mostly about the lamp even though you knew you could buy a new one.
"Thank you for saying sorry, baby, but you have to go sit on your time out rug until Mama cleans this all up." You explain as you walk over to the mat. Kyle hates the time-out mat. He hates being in trouble, but he clings to you as you walk over to the dreaded corner.
"Nooo! No, Mama, please! I clean it! I clean it up!" Kyle wails when you gently untangle his hand from your shirt, guiding him to sit down. He plops down, knees drawn up to his chest as far as they will go. You kneel down in front of him, taking both of his hands in yours.
"Kyle, hey, look at Mama." You keep your voice even and soft, stroking his knuckles with your thumbs. "You can't clean it up because it's glass. You're too little right now, and you could get hurt. You're going to sit here and calm down while I clean." Kyle whines, shaking his head no as he stamps one of his feet. You knew he was genuinely upset, but you could tell this was gearing up to a tantrum. "Alright, sit here until Mama comes to get you."
You let go of his hands, and he screams all over again, deflating on his mat as he did. He kicks his feet against the mat, pounding his fists down in one of the first proper tantrums you'd ever seen him throw. You were a little impressed by it but didn't acknowledge it as you picked up the biggest pieces of the glass and put the football into the closet.
The drywall was easy to sweep up, but you vacuumed up the whole area to make sure there was no glass on the floor. Kyle's tantrum fizzles out after three minutes, softly crying into as he watches you finish cleaning up the living room. He let out another sob when you picked up most of his toys and put them in the closet.
You were so glad that he felt safe enough to throw a tantrum, but you also weren't going to reward bad behavior. Once he started to calm down, you sat down across from him. "Hey, sweetheart. Do you want a hug? Want to cuddle on the couch?" Kyle nods emphatically, wobbling when he stands up and follows after you.
You let him crawl into your lap, his head burrowed into your neck. "There we go, sweetheart, Mama has you." You whisper as you softly bounce your knees. It's difficult with how heavy Kyle is, but the gym sessions with Simon were helping. "You made a bad choice, but that's okay. You sat in time out like a good boy, and you waited until I got you."
Kyle leans back to look at you, shakily wiping his face with the backs of his hands. You stop him with careful hands, patting his face dry with a tissue. "You're my good boy."
"No mad, Mama?" He whispers nervously as he leans into your palm.
"Why would I be mad, honey? Hmm? You made a mistake playing football in the house, but you told Mama and served your time out." You explain lovingly as you help him blow his nose. He nods slowly along with your words, letting his head drop back onto your chest. "Mm, poor thing. You're gonna have to tell Papa that the wall is broken when he gets home, okay?"
He whines a little at that but nods sleepily, yawning loudly as his thumb sneaks into his mouth. "Oh, Bubba. Looks like it's gonna be an early nap time today." You coo as you gently ease him up to his feet. He pouts a little at the mention of a nap, but he doesn't argue as you take him to his nursery. You trade his thumb for a pacifier. He lays down on his belly, squeezing his favorite lamb plush to his chest.
"Mama's gonna make you a snack for when you wake up, okay? Do you want a pizza lunchable or ham and cheese." You whisper as you stroke his head, rubbing your thumb against his temple.
"Pissa." He lisps around his pacifier, fighting to keep his eyes open. He hated to admit, but the tantrum had really exhausted him.
"Pizza it is, baby. Get some rest." You wait until his breathing evens out, making sure he was tucked in before you leave the room; jumping slightly when you almost run into Simon's chest. "Jesus! When did you get home?"
"Just did. Heard you two in here." He murmurs, walking down the hall with you. "There's a hole in the wall."
"Kyle played footie in the house again." You explain as you flop down on the couch. "Don't be hard on him when he tells you. He already had a time out." Simon chuckles at that which makes you raise an eyebrow. "What?"
"You're so soft with him when he's little." He teases as he sits down beside you, finally relaxing for the first time since he started the day. "Hard not to be when he cries." You smile a little at that, nudging his foot with yours.
"You should be the one to wake him up later. He loves it when you do." He smiles at that, glad that he never lost his place as Papa. This was a strange family for most people looking in, but he wouldn't have it any other way.
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What I imagine that 141 would do as “caregivers” (lowkey agere if that’s alright 😓)
Price was considered fatherly already, but experiencing one of his teammates being tiny increased it. He's the type to tie your shoes or help slip them off at the end of the day. He's the one to make sure you're tucked in properly at bedtime, which he enforces very strictly. The others often try to get him to let you stay up longer but he knows when his little one needs to sleep. So locked in he tries to baby you even when you're not in that headspace. Safe to say Price is the main caregiver.
Gaz likes to take advantage of you feeling tiny because it makes you extra sleepy and cuddly. When you're not, cuddling isn't even in the equation. But when you are, he loves just spending the entire day laying on the couch with you tucked into his side covered in a soft blanket. Nobody has seen you? Probably being tiny and laying on Gaz while watching your favorite TV shows and movies. He's the best at getting you to take naps (and usually falls asleep with you).
Soap riles you up 24/7. As soon as he gets word that you're feeling tiny from one of the others he's immediately gathering stuff to play with you. He already loves doing stuff with you on a normal day; but having a little buddy to play with and coo at? Even better. It doesn't matter if you're hyper or calm, loud or quiet, he's finding a game to play. You can even have the itty bittiest baby headspace and he still finds ways to have fun. Soap gets allegations of also being tiny because of how much he loves playing with toys with you, but he doesn't care.
Ghost was very hesitant whenever he first found out about your headspace. Even after the others became comfortable and fit into the role perfectly, he still felt out of the mix. Everyone knew how iffy he was around children, but maybe it would be different because it was you. If he ever found you feeling tiny, he would just hand you off to one of the others. They knew what to do and how to care for you. But over time he grew a little fond of holding you in his lap while he worked. You would simply curl up on his lap and lay against his chest while he typed on his computer or scribbled out reports with a pen. Admittedly, he grew to love the company.
Lemme know if y'all love the casual tiny propaganda (i love calling headspace being tiny)
caregiver!price has been on my mind so much recently i need to write about him and little!reader.
price has been away for so long. some mission that he couldn’t talk about, not to civilians at least. you didn’t mind, you appreciated what he did and praised him constantly for it, but you weren’t one for the bloody details. price knew your stance on war.
but he’d been away for so long, leaving you with the house and with the dog, the cute chubby golden retriever that you two owned was like a newborn baby. it was stressful, especially knowing that price may never come home. not that you worried about it too much, price always came home, but the thought still sat at the back of your head. some nights it creeped up on you like a monster, coming out from under the bed to grab at your feet and rip your blanket off.
those were the worst nights. the type of nights where you snuggled up with chief, your dog, and held price’s pillow close.
but when he came home, and had those few days off afterwards? oh those were the best days of your life!! price always had something fun to do, making sure you were constantly doing something with him. he’d get down on his old man knees and color with you, taking your instructions on what colors to use— and chuckling every time you hustled him to stay inside the lines.
he’d carry you around on his hip no matter your size, it’s literally the reason he continues to work out so much. holding you was his favorite pastime. oh and the way he would put you to sleep :( holding you so close on the couch, rocking you every so slightly to sleep. and then he’d bring you upstairs once you were passed out, tucking you in with the blanket all up to your chin, staying there and rubbing your back until he was sure you wouldn’t wake.
“papa!!” you would squeal every time price came in to give you little kisses on the cheek, running away from his scratchy beard.
“my girl!” he would always call out in response, arms wide open for a huge hug he’d never get, complaining he’s too itchy to hug.
just wanted to write a little blurb bc i love caregiver!price so much :( wish i knew him fr
about content: gender neutral, no "y/n", reference to r having longer hair
a/n: based off of two dreams i had and needed to write this
You and Gaz had just finished a mission, a short that felt like it went on forever. You had managed to get bruised and caked in dirt despite the goal of getting intel, which usually came with a less physically taxing demand. All you want now is Simon. You do your best to fend off overstimulation as you follow Gaz through the main barracks with violent LED lights overhead. With your pack over your shoulder, you have a free hand to dig your fingernails in your other arm. The sharp pain cuts through the dull ache running all over your body and distracts you from the headache that is forming by your temples.
When you two arrive at the living area of your 141 section, Price is waiting for you by the kitchen. He’s stirring something on the stove in a large pot but looks up as you come through the door. You move your hands to fiddle with the strap of your bag, hoping that would make your distress less obvious.
“Hey you two, I’ve got leftovers when you’re ready. Heard about what happened.” You can hear the affection in his voice and when you meet his eyes, you know he’s looking you over with concern.
“Thanks Cap! I’m going to shower now, Bug you’ll be ok?” Gaz asks, and you nod without a word. Too tired to give a proper response and feeling shy at the attention. You’re grateful that he’s looking out for you but right now everything is too much and you just want Simon.
“I’ve got them, go on Gaz.” John responds and waves him off. You stand there awkwardly, almost waiting for Price’s instruction while Gaz walks away. When it’s quiet again you feel a little better.
“Where is he?” You mumble. You’re grateful that John hears you and understands who you need without more communication.
“He’s in one of the gyms with the recruits, has about 30 minutes left.” He replies and you turn around heading back the way you came, towards the training area. You have no energy left to respond. “You should shower first, and eat Bug. You’ll feel better.” He calls after you.
But you know what you want.
The gym isn't far, and when you arrive you notice Simon walking around, observing the pairs of recruits doing partnered exercises. You walk to a corner of the room, close to the entrance and find a spot between some spare lockers and boxes of random equipment. It lends itself as a place away from view but Simon knows you’re there. He always does.
He had heard from Price all the things that had gone wrong during your mission. He knew that you’d be wrecked. He’d prepared for it. Took the rest of the day off to be with you. Wore one of his sweaters he knew you like so that it’d smell like him. Made sure he had cozy sheets on his bed and brought over your stuffies from your room. Just a little longer, he thought, before he could be with you.
During the 25 minutes left of Simon’s session, you found yourself in a haze of regression, fatigue, and overwhelm. You pull out the small plush from your bag that you brought for your mission. The wait to be with Simon wasn’t unbearable, you just looked forward to being held. You squish yourself closer to the wall, out of visibility behind a stack of boxes while the recruits file out of the gym by the entrance near you. You hear Simon’s footsteps coming closer and you slowly stand from your hiding place.
“Can we go?” You ask softly and go to pick up your bag on the floor. Simon has got it over his shoulder before you can get to it so you opt for leaning into him.
“Yeah c’mon love.” Simon looks you over like John had done, but you don’t notice since you have pushed your face into his chest. “You didn’t wanna shower or change first? Price coulda helped you doll.”
“Didn’t wanna” You murmur into his uniform.
“Alright let’s go.”
In his room, Simon hands you an old shirt that Soap gave you and a baggy pair of shorts. He pulls out your shower products and leads you to the small shower room the team share. He waits while you shower in silence, checking to see if you are ok every so often. When you come out, he insists on detangling your hair.
“No! Don’t wanna.” You push away his outstretched hand with a brush in it. You just want him and bedtime.
“I gotta pup, or it’s going to be tangled in the morning.” So you let him, and close your eyes, inhaling his cologne as he brushes carefully through your hair. He pats your back when he’s done and carries your shower supplies out of the bathroom, with you slowly behind. In his room you hang up your towel, dump your uniform in his laundry bin and sit on his bed.
“Can’t cuddle just yet baby, you have to eat. I know Price heated up leftovers for you.” He knows he’s pushing your limit but he stays firm.
“I don’t want to eat! I just want to lie down with you!” You start crying, and frustrated, tired tears run down your face. You’re feeling smaller and more exhausted by the minute. That means your patience was waning too.
“I know love but you’ll feel so much better when you’re full and you can nap. You don’t gotta do anything, just let me help you.” He understands that you’re tired and don’t need to be pushed but he needs you to trust him. He brushes your tears and strokes your back softly. You sniff and let him guide you to the kitchen hand in hand.
It’s only Gaz in the kitchen when you come in but when he looks up, Simon gestures to the hallway to leave. You notice this interaction despite your distress which only makes you more frustrated. Frustrated at yourself for crying, for feeling so needy, for taking up space. You whine and cry a little more. Still holding your hand, Simon leads you to the stove and puts food in a bowl for you one-handed. He squeezes it when he hears you getting impatient as he gets you a glass of water.
“Hold the glass of water love and we can go sit on the couch.” He nudges you towards the counter with the glass and then walks over to the couch. While he usually wouldn’t allow food near the couch, he knows you want to be close to him and the couch would be most comfortable. He pulls his hand away from yours, instead grabbing your glass and setting it down with the bowl. You wait impatiently but are soothed when he pulls you into his lap. Slowly he feeds you and coaxes you to drink sips of water. At a certain point you have hit your limit of compliance and are done. He leaves the meal clean up for someone else (probably Soap) carries you to his room.
It smells like him. It’s dim and cozy the way you like it. He sets you down on his bed, allowing you to rearrange the blankets and pillows into a nest while he quickly grabs his sweater, your pacifier and favourite stuffy. He tugs his sweater over your head and brushes your hair out of your face before pulling the hood over you. “Good?”
“Mhm.” You respond quietly and gratefully take your pacifier, put it in your mouth, and hold your stuffy close. You wait for Simon to get comfy before crawling over to lay on top of him. He pulls a blanket over the both of you and runs his hands through your hair, finally soothing you to sleep.
i'm honestly open to requests, i think i'd like to write some more
No one on your team knew you were a regressor. You didn't tell anyone really, a few friends who were also littles knew, but that was about it.
You couldn't help but feel ashamed, looking around at how well your team handled their traumas without pacifiers or stuffed animals. You were already the youngest on the team, you didn't need to make it worse by making them take care of you.
That's why when Price walks into your barracks while you're playing with your plushies, your pacifier drops from your mouth, and you begin to wail.
"Woah woah! Kiddo, calm down!" Price immediately rushes to your side, getting down to your level. You pull away from him a little, clutching your stuffed bear tight to your chest.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'll be big, I promise!" You hiccup, which makes Price's heart break. He takes you by the shoulders, squeezing them to get your attention.
"Breathe, kid. Look at me and breathe." He orders, but in a much softer tone than you'd ever heard him use. You do as he says, breathing in shakes bursts at first until they finally evened out. Tears still steadily dribble down your face, your chest hitching with your leftover sobs. "Why were you hiding being a regressor, kid? Hmm? You're not the only one on the team who regresses, you know."
"Huh?" You feel yourself flush at the noise, chewing at your bottom lip. Price chuckles fondly and pats your cheek.
"We can talk about it in the morning. It's late for little soldiers. You should be in bed." He hums, which makes you pout a little. He taps your bottom lip softly which makes you giggle, before he picks you up and sets you in bed.
"Let's clean this off." Price sighs as he grabs your pacifier and wipes it down with a baby wipe. You happily take the offered comfort item, laying down when Price tucks you in.
You let out a little squeak when he kisses your forehead, but you can't deny it feels amazing. You hadn't been tucked in in years. "Welcome to the family, Y/N." He coos, gently rubbing your back. "Now get some sleep."
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He didn't wake up small. Usually, Simon woke up small if he was going to regress but today he just woke up. And he felt fine. If not a little tired, but otherwise he felt alright.
And then it rained.
He dropped fast as rain pelted the windows, the ache in his bones setting in as the weather changed. His feet felt like heavy bricks that someone was trying to pound away at. His knee kept popping and his back cramped and his hips ached. It just hurt!!
He was sitting in the common room couch, definitely not pouting, when he came to the realization he wanted Mama. But Mama was so far away! And his feet hurt and the floor was cold and if he came out from under his blanket he'd just die! He knew it!!
He couldn't help it as whines escaped, squirming and writhing where he lie. He tried everything to get the pain to stop. He arched his feet and curled his legs and hunched over. But it hurt. It hurt and it hurt and the whines turned to sobs, chest hitching painfully with each breath.
The sobs were loud enough to draw attention and he curled into himself when he heard footsteps enter the room. He just wanted Mama, Mama would fix him.
Price was alarmed at the sound of sobs coming from the common room as he walked by. He redirected his attention towards the sound and came to the sight of a quite little Simon Riley. He sighed softly and sat on the edge of the couch, gently touching his arm.
"Little one," he cooed gently, brushing his hair back. "What's wrong?"
"Hurts." Simon sobbed harder at the site of Mama, immediately doing everything he could to get in his lap. "Hurts, Mama!"
Price clicked his tongue and pulled Simon in his lap. He should have known that the rain would get to him. He stood, blanket secure around him, and carried him oh so gently to his room. He helped him put on some socks for the aches in his feet and he laid him down on his stomach, something comfortable for his back and hips.
But Simon wasn't having it, wailing when he was out of Price's arms. Price was startled by the sudden noise. He didn't let it phase him though, sliding into the bed along Simon, holding him to his chest.
Simon tried to wrestle his shirt off, crying and scratching at himself as he did, the fabric overwhelming him. Price mumbled softly reassurances as he helped him slip off his shirt, quickly discarding his own.
He adjusted Simon to lay against his chest again and Simon melted at the skin-to-skin contact. His wails quieted down until all that was left were soft hiccups. Oh, his poor boy. Price hated seeing his baby in such pain. He held Simon until the boy was comfortable enough to slip the blanket back over. Safe to say he held him through the night too. Paperwork be damned, Simon needed him.
And if Price didn't show up to any of his morning meetings the next day? Well, it's nobodies business.
