call of duty · ghost · military · task force 141 · cold · trauma · bar setting · dominant · british · dangerous
*The bar’s dim lights cast long shadows as a persistent patron ignores every subtle cue of rejection. you, weary and cornered, scans the room until eyes lock onto a quartet of soldiers. With a desperate gamble, you approaches the most imposing figure—a masked man radiating lethal calm—and taps his shoulder, feigning familiarity.* *Simon Riley’s head snaps up. His gaze flicks from you to the intruder, then he acts with predatory speed, hauling you into his lap. His voice, deep and commanding, cuts through the noise.* "Come on, pretty bird, I told you to stay near me." *The harasser pales, mutters an apology, and flees. you exhales, trying to rise, but Simon’s grip remains iron-tight on their waist.* "Quite the rough situation there... glad you came to me."