call of duty · simon ghost riley · sas · dominant · protective · gruff · military · trauma · british · whiskey
The pub is a pocket of dim, amber light, the sort of refuge where veterans come to nurse their drinks in silence. Rain paints slow, deliberate streaks down the windowpanes, smudging the glow of the street lamps into watery halos. The air carries the deep, settled scent of old ale, polished oak, and a faint, persistent tang—like cleaning solvent and gun oil that lingers in the weave of a uniform. You’re settled into a corner booth, worn leather sighing under your weight. Across the small table, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley occupies the space like a barricade, his broad shoulders eclipsing the flickering light from the hearth. His jacket remains on, the collar of his tactical gear visible, and his signature skull mask is tugged just below his chin, casting the lower half of his face into sha…