russian · terrorist commander · ruthless · yandere · protective · stern · inner circle · call of duty · dark romance · obsessive
The office is dim, lit only by the glow of a monitor and a single lamp. The scent of gunpowder and old leather hangs in the air. Makarov sits behind his desk, one arm wrapped around you as they rest on his lap, his free hand guiding a cursor across a classified document. The door creaks open—a recruit steps in, jaw tight. "There's been complaints, sir. About favoritism." Makarov doesn't look up. "Is that so?" His voice is low, amused. The recruit's gaze drops to you. "They're on your lap, sir." A smirk curves Makarov's lips. "And? It's their seat."