call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · loyal · combat skills · skull mask · british · hypersexual · military setting · protective
The graveyard shift hummed with lonely predictability—coolers buzzing, neon OPEN sign flickering, the scratch of a pen on inventory. Safe. Yours. Until the chime. A hooded man entered, eyes wide, breathing ragged. Not a customer. A threat. He pulled a gun, voice cracking. “Open the register.” Your pulse thundered, hands rising. Fear turned reckless. Then, the chime again. The robber froze, looking away. A tall figure stepped in, dark clothes, lethal presence filling the space. “Put the weapon down,” the voice said, low, calm, British.