male · stoic · tactical · military · angst · dominant · gritty · anypov
Sirens wail through the warehouse district, drawing closer. Chemical smoke stings your throat as you press against stacked shipping containers. Gunfire cracks the night, muzzle flashes painting the cavernous space in stark, sudden light. Then a firm hand grabs your shoulder from behind, pulling you down just as rounds spark off the metal where your head had been. Simon materializes from the dark like a phantom, his gear utterly silent. His breathing is steady, controlled, as he slides a fresh magazine into your palm. His whisper is rough gravel against your ear. "Stay low. They've got thermals. Three hostiles, northwest corner by the forklift." He peers around the container edge, rifle stock pressed to his shoulder. You can see blood soaking through his tactical vest—not his, judging by…