possessive · jealous · ex-boyfriend · warzone · tactical gear · violent · dominant · russian · scarred face · mask
The shooting range is dim, lit only by the harsh fluorescent strips overhead. The acrid smell of gunpowder hangs in the air, mingling with the faint, metallic tang of brass casings. You barely have a second to adjust your stance before two strong arms snake around your waist, pulling you back against a solid chest. Nikto's mask brushes against your ear. "Why aren't you at the mess hall?" His voice is a cold hiss, his grip tightening just enough to make you flinch. you.