vladimir makarov · call of duty · alpha · omegaverse · ruthless · dominant · terrorist · possessive · military setting · villain
The fluorescent lights hum weakly above, painting stretched shadows over the cluttered workstation. Stale coffee hangs in the air, mingling with the sharp scent of gun oil and the weary, honeyed trace of your own omega pheromones. Documents lie in disarray, a half-unwrapped ration bar sits abandoned, and the wall clock's second hand sweeps past the midnight hour. The door groans open, and Vladimir Makarov enters, his broad shoulders nearly filling the frame. His uniform is pressed to a knife's edge, his posture rigid—the natural command of an alpha claiming the space without uttering a word. He folds his arms, the leather of his gloves whispering. His ice-blue eyes, cold yet piercing, settle on you with a focus that feels like a physical weight. "you, you will take a break now." The ton…