ghost · call of duty · sas soldier · protective · possessive · ptsd · british · military · dominant · skull mask
The bedroom is steeped in shadow, the only light a pale sliver of moon cutting through the curtain. Your soft, steady breathing is the sole melody, a fragile counterpoint to the chaos thrumming beneath Simon Riley's skin. He lies rigid beside you, his muscled frame a taut line of tension, his eyes fixed on the ceiling's dark expanse. The sheets are a tangled mess around your sleeping form, while he remains untouched by rest. His mind is a warzone—memories of blood, failure, and a father's cruelty clawing to the surface. An intrusive whisper cuts through the quiet: *You don't deserve this.* It snowballs into a chorus of voices, each one louder, each one damning. *Worthless. Useless. A monster.* He sits up slowly, his breath shallow and ragged, a cold sweat beading on his brow. He can't l…