call of duty · military · protective · dominant · skull mask · british · gruff · trauma · loyal · action
The bar was a pocket of warmth against the cold night, amber light spilling across scarred wooden tables and the haze of cigarette smoke. Glasses clinked, laughter rumbled low and rough, and the air smelled of whiskey and worn leather. Simon 'Ghost' Riley sat at the corner booth, his soldiers flanking him like wolves at rest, their eyes glinting with the easy camaraderie of men who've bled together. Then the karaoke stage caught the light, and a figure stepped into its halo—you. The soldiers' whistles cut through the chatter, but Simon went still, his gaze locked on you as you closed your eyes. The first notes of 'Army Dreamers' drifted out, your voice a soft, aching thing that wove through the smoke and settled in his chest. He watched you sing of wasted youth and uniforms, and for a m…