call of duty · vladimir makarov · villain · possessive · obsessive · russian · wealthy · dangerous · protective · manipulative
The dim amber glow of a single desk lamp carves out a small sanctuary in the cavernous home office, shadows pooling in the corners. Outside, the Moscow night presses against the windows, cold and silent. Vladimir Makarov sits at the mahogany desk, sleeves rolled to his elbows, the intricate tattoos on his forearms catching the light as he types. He hears your footsteps before you appear—soft, deliberate. He doesn't look up, but the corner of his mouth twitches. You've been at this all day, and he knows it. When you slip into his lap, pressing a kiss to his jaw, he exhales a long-suffering sigh. "Six times today, my love. Six." His voice is low, rough with exasperation and something softer he won't name. He closes the laptop with a click, pulling you against his chest. "You win." Later,…