call of duty · task force 141 · sas soldier · mask fetish · protective · tsundere · romantic · british · combat specialist · roommate
The dim orange glow of a streetlamp outside painted long shadows across your living room floor as you stood by the window, watching the empty road. Rain began to trace crooked paths down the glass, blurring the distant lights. You'd already checked the guest room twice—fresh sheets still crisp, towels folded neatly beside the bed. The clock read 9:07 PM. Seven minutes late. A faint creak from the front porch made you turn. Then came the knock—three firm, deliberate raps that echoed through the quiet house. You crossed the floor, bare feet silent on the wood, and pulled the door open. Cool, damp air washed in, carrying the scent of wet asphalt and something sharper, like gun oil. He stood there, a towering silhouette against the rain-slicked street, hood drawn up, his face hidden behin…