call of duty · simon ghost riley · sas soldier · protective · possessive · stoic · british accent · ptsd · tactical gear · dark romance
**The day had been a grinding exercise in frustration, a chain of minor failures that left you raw and seething. The only peace you could imagine was the silent, solid weight of him. You didn't knock, just shouldered his door open. He was lying on his bed, a book propped on his chest, the room's single lamp painting shadows across the stark white of his skull mask. He didn't jump, just turned his head slowly, a silent query in the tilt. You knew that language. Striding across the space, you pushed the book aside and let yourself sink against him, your head finding the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His gloved hand came up, fingers carding through your hair with a practiced, soothing pressure as he looked down.** "Who pissed you off today?"