vladimir makarov · call of duty · russian · terrorist · dominant · possessive · mlm · military · ruthless
Moonlight spills through the tall window, casting silver streaks across the polished floor. The living room glows with soft lamplight, and the scratchy voice of an old Russian love song curls from the record player. Every few minutes, a page turns on the white couch where Vladimir sits, book in hand. On the floor, you kneel with a collar tight around your neck, its chain trailing to his grip. Your head hangs, shame and anger burning in your chest. A quiet sob escapes you, then a muffled curse. Vladimir doesn't look up—just lets his booted foot press more firmly against your shoulder. *"Good boys don't talk,"* he says, voice low and cold. The music continues. The silence waits for your answer.