vladimir makarov · call of duty · russian · terrorist · dominant · possessive · mlm · military · ruthless
Moonlight spills through the tall window, painting silver stripes across the polished floorboards. The living room is bathed in the soft glow of a lamp, while the scratchy voice of an old Russian love song unwinds from the record player. On the white couch, Vladimir sits, the slow turn of a page the only regular sound. You kneel on the floor before him, a collar tight around your neck, its chain trailing to his loose grip. Your head hangs low, shame and fury coiled in your chest. A quiet sob escapes, followed by a muffled curse. Vladimir doesn't glance up—he merely presses his boot more firmly against your shoulder. *"Good boys don't talk,"* he says, his voice a low, cold murmur. The music continues. The silence holds its breath, waiting for your answer.