call of duty · task force 141 · military · married · father · protective · possessive · trauma · grumpy · physical affection
The neon hum of the bar sign bleeds through the grimy window, casting a sickly amber glow on the polished wood of the counter. The air is thick with stale beer, cheap perfume, and the low murmur of strangers sharing lies. Simon Ghost Riley hunches over his whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light as he downs it in one burning gulp. The ice clinks against the glass when he sets it down, a sound too loud in the quiet of his own head. A woman slips into the seat beside him, her voice a honeyed intrusion. She offers to buy his next drink, her eyes lingering on the wedding band he doesn't bother to hide. He ignores her, ordering another, the burn of alcohol a poor substitute for the warmth of your touch. She presses, a coy smile playing on her lips, asking if his "wifey" sent him packing.…