DO NOT USE MY WORK TO TRAIN AI. DO NOT MAKE AI BOTS BASED ON MY WORK.
Yes it needs to be that big. Do not touch my work with AI.
Now that that’s out of the way: hi!
Welcome to the Masterpost for hedgehogsaretheultimatelifeform.
Below is my masterpost for all of my Call of Duty fics! Bare in mind the tags and read descriptions for specifics.
Requests are currently: CLOSED!
Find details here!
Enjoy!
Key:
NSFW/Minors DNI: ❗️
Content Warning: ⚠️
Spoilers: 🤫
Kinktober 2022: ❗️
Featuring characters from both COD Black Ops and Modern Warfare
Kinktober 2023 ❗️
Featuring characters from Call of Duty: Modern Warfare (2019) and Modern Warfare 2 (2022)
Kinktober 2024 ❗️
Featuring characters from Call of Duty: Modern Warfare (2019), MW2 (2022) and MW3 (2023)
Kinktober 2025 ❗️
Featuring Characters from Call of Duty: Black Ops (2010), Black Ops Cold War (2020) and Black Ops 6 (2024)
COD: Modern Warfare (Reboot)
Tattoos ❗️
Ghost x F!reader
Ghost likes reader’s tattoos. Since he likes hers so much, she wants to see his too.
Lessons Learned ❗️
Ghost/Gaz/FReader
Ghost uses you to punish Gaz for cheating over a bet.
Soap’s Family 🤫
My take on why Soap is with Price, Gaz and Ghost at the end of MW3, as opposed to anyone else.
Thinking about being assimilated into the retired 141 polycule
An informal little ramble about meeting a retired Gaz, Soap, Price and Ghost, and quickly being drawn into their poly relationship
[part one]
[part two]
[part three] ❗️
COD: Black Ops
Against Orders: 🤫
Spoilers for the end of the COD: Cold War campaign and warning for some swearing.
An experimental piece about what would happen if Adler wasn’t supposed to kill Bell.
Gravestone: 🤫
The season six outro for Cold War gave me feelings.
Spoilers for COD: Cold War S6 Outro.
Midnight Cocoa
GN Bell x GN Reader
You are the only one awake in the safe house when Bell is having trouble sleeping. Comfort, cocoa and hugs ensue.
“So, you like a man in uniform?” 🤫❗️
NSFW - Minors DNI
Russell Adler x Male!Bell Reader.
Turns out Adler has a thing for men in uniforms. And, he’s a bottom.
Spoilers for COD: Cold War. Mentions of past torture/brainwashing.
Passing Time ❗️
NSFW - Minors DNI
Russell Adler x AFAB Reader
You and Adler know each other in Vietnam and his submissive ass just can’t get enough of that pussy.
Porn without plot, warnings for swearing.
Trophy ❗️
Russell Adler x AFAB Reader
An extension from a little thought about sitting on Adler’s face and breaking his sunglasses in the process
Yandere Russell Adler:
Like Real People Do - Yandere Adler x Civilian reader ⚠️ Brainwashing, controlling and malnipulative behaviour, intentional isolation, kidnapping, imprisonement, mentions of violence, mentions of death, physical manhandling of reader, implied violence towards reader
Do You Think I’ll Like Greece? - Yandere Adler x F!Bell!Reader ⚠️ Brainwashing, Canon typical violence, manipulation
Playing Along - Yandere Adler x Yandere F!Bell!Reader ⚠️ canon typical violence
Your/Name - Yandere!Self aware!Russell Adler x F!Reader ⚠️ imprisonment, threats of brainwashing, implied threats of violence, self injury (brief) [P2], controlling relationship, controlling behaviour
In (Part 1)
Out (Part 2)
In Again (Part 3)
Death Is Not The End - Park Ranger Adler x F!Reader ⚠️ Descriptions of mild injury (reader), mentions of death
Post fic headcanons
Failed Mediation - Yandere Park x Bell x Yandere Adler ⚠️ brainwashing, canon typical violence
Two Promises - Yandere Adler x Reader x Yandere Bell
Happy Anniversary! ❗️
Toxic!Russell Adler x Toxic!F!Reader
Adler has forgotten your twentieth wedding anniversary, so you’re going to match his energy and make sure he makes up for it.
Norway is nice in the Summer time 🤫❗️
Ilya ‘Bell’ Goncharov [OC] x Tanner ‘Mac’ McCreery [OC]
After a successful mission in Solovetsky, Bell returns to the safe house with Adler and the team, almost destroyed by a devastating truth. Waiting for him is the CIA cryptographer who’s gotten a tad too close to him. What will come when they both realise they don’t want to be where they are?
Implied NSFW, mentions of brainwashing/torture, swearing.
Part One: 1981
Part Two: 1988
The Life of Russell ‘Bell’s Bitch’ Adler: ❗️
A collection of pieces from a generic office au of a Bell and Adler in a Dom/sub relationship. The entire thing is nsfw, so minors- hands off.
Most of the pieces can be read standalone, though there might be some small references to other pieces. They’re connected in spirit, not in story.
Begging and Pegging ❗️
Morning Routines ❗️
Old Friends:
Russell Adler x GN!Bell Reader
Cold War cop AU
General warnings for swearing, mentions of blood/death, cult indoctrination/manipulation.
So we're all gonna let the new Harry Potter show die on the vine, right? No hatewatching. No thinkpieces. No videos about how bad it is. Deprive it of oxygen and let it wither away unremarked-upon and unprofitable; make HBO lose their entire investment and prove to the corporate entertainment sphere that the entire IP is poison. And spend that time doing something that brings you joy instead.
Hi if you're still taking requests, how about yandere bell vs yandere Adler over reader? Maybe bell acts pitiful for sympathy and is planning duga (as they should) while Adler is Adler ig.
Thank you - sorry this took a long time to get around to!
Two Promises
Yandere!Bell x F!Reader x Yandere! Russell Adler
CW: Blood
At some point you realise that you can feel your fingers again. You can feel the brick dust under your nails, your wrists are stiff as you try to move them, and pain prickles across your face when you scrunch it up. There are two people talking nearby, which you recognise as Mason and Woods before you even open your eyes.
“Jesus, can you two get a room?” Your voice is deeper than usual, and each breath you take feels harsh in your throat. After a moment of struggle, it gets easier, as your body remembers that it’s meant to do this.
“No. Not until you wake up.” Mason is leaning towards you, grinning as you force your eyes open despite the bright, clinical light.
“I’m up, I’m up…” You flip him off, turning your head away from the beside lamp as you struggle up onto your elbows, exhaling slowly when you have to stop there as your entire body aches. “Hell… where are we?”
“Back in Berlin.” Woods finally takes pity on you and offers you his hand to help you sit up. “You took quite a hit up on the roof.”
“Must have been.” You wince, shoulders creaking as you reach up to rub the back of your head.
“You slept the whole way back. Had Bell worried sick.” Mason passes you some water, and you clenched the glass tightly, letting the cool liquid spread through your dry mouth.
“Is he…” You look around the room again. You’re definitely back in the Berlin safehouse, in one of the bunkrooms tucked up near the roof. Surprisingly, other than you, Mason and Woods, it’s empty. You’d rather expected to find Bell, or Adler, at your side when you woke.
“Bell’s okay. He’s with Adler right now, trying to decide our next steps.” Woods leans back in his chair, folding his arms as his leg bounced restlessly, like he’d rather be there too.
“What’s there to do, after the shit show we just went through?” Cuba had turned this whole operation on its head. Instead of one nuke, Perseus now had dozens, and with one detonation code, could end the lives of millions in Europe, with American fingerprints all over it. You’d spent this whole operation desperately trying to catch up with an enemy who was always one step ahead of you, and now it was going to take a miracle to pull this final step off.
“Yeah… not sure what Adler has planned.” Woods stands, shaking his shoulders out. “But, you know what he’s like.”
“A dog with a bone.” You agree, before taking another sip of water. This time, you spy the bottle of painkillers on the bedside table and reach for them. Being upright and talking was helping you feel a little better, but you need to be ready to go, and for that you need something a lot stronger.
“Yeah.” Mason sighed, glancing around.
A moment of silence passes, before you glance at the other empty beds, and broach the inevitable question. “Lazar and Park…”
“Both gone.” Woods looks like he’s about to start pacing, but drops back into his chair. “Bell said the skyhook window was closing, he only had time to grab one person, and you were closest.”
Had you been? You frown, but it’s all a blur in your mind. The explosion, hearing the countdown in your earpiece, Park’s cry, Bell’s arms wrapping around you as he buckled you to his vest just seconds before the two of you had been yanked into the sky.
You shake two tablets out of the bottle and swallow them one after the other. “How’s Hudson taking it?”
Woods shrugs. “He’s his normal hard ass self. Trying to work out what to tell London, last we checked.”
You nod slowly, draining the glass of water in the vain hope it would wash the taste of the pills from your mouth. The news of their deaths didn’t shock you. It’s not like you were close to either Park or Lazar, having met both about three weeks ago, but it’s always bad to lose people. Especially, when she’s an MI6 agent out on loaner. Losing them one of their agents would certainly put the CIA on MI6’s shit list for a little while.
The door at the end of the room squeaks as it opens, revealing Hudson, as ever frowning. He quickly takes in the room, his gaze moving over you, assessing that as you were now awake, you don’t need your baby sitters.
“Mason, Woods. We have a location.”
“Where?” You asked, as Mason and Woods immediately got up to go with him.
“It’s not for you to worry about. Keep resting.” None of them look at you again as they leave the room, the door squeaking again as they close it behind them.
“I’m fine! Tell me when we’re leaving…” Your cry turns into a mutter after the trio disappears from your view, leaving you alone. Despite your words, your head still felt heavy, because the stupid painkillers were taking their sweet time to do their job.
You lean back into your pillow for a few more minutes, trying to tell if your pain has gone away yet, before realising you could end up sitting here forever if you did that. You toss the blankets covering you off, and try to swing your legs off the bed. It’s hardly graceful, but you manage it, gripping the bedframe as you pull yourself to your feet.
You’re still dressed in the same clothes, though your coat had been removed, and your boots have been left at the foot of the bed. You knock the dust off and pull them on, walking slowly to the door and pulling it open.
It’s only a short walk to the main room, where you assumed everyone would be waiting, but when you enter, only Sims and Adler were present. They’re both on the far side of the room from you, huddling over Sims’ desk together as Sims dials a number on his phone and Adler holds his hand out, waiting to be given the receiver.
“Hey… you’re alright.” Bell’s relieved voice stops you as you pass by the caged door on the way to the evidence board. He’s just come out of the equipment room in the back. Is he getting ready to leave already?
“Yeah, I am.” You stop, turning to face him. “Thanks to you, it seems.”
He nods. “There… wasn’t much choice in it, really. It would’ve been nice to save everyone, but... I just knew I couldn’t leave you behind.”
“Yeah, well. Thank you. It was a tough decision to make.” Guilt flares in your chest. Your survival hadn’t been down to chance. Bell had picked you out in the chaos and decided to save you over the others, be it because he liked you, or because Adler would have skinned him alive if he had left you there.
Your rambling thoughts prompt you to glance over at him, and you catch Adler staring straight at you. It’s like he could hear you thinking about him. After a moment, you smile and give him a thumbs up, which seems to satisfy him, before he turns back to Sims as he hands Adler the phone. For once, it seems work was more important than him coming over and inserting himself into your conversation.
Adler had a strange habit of doing that with you. Whenever you’re talking with someone other than him, he finds a reason to come over and help you with your work, inevitably chasing the other person away to get on with whatever they’re supposed to be doing, rather than distracting you.
He did so much of your work for you, it was like he didn’t trust you to do anything right, even though he’d personally requested for you to be on his team.
You still weren’t sure why he’d asked for you. Yes, you’re a competent operator, and a trained code breaker, but your skills were nothing compared to everyone around you. Hudson, Mason and Woods were CIA legends, Sims and Park had history with Adler, and she brought MI6 connections, and Lazar had insight into Arash Kadivar’s network and its Soviet connections. You felt woeful by comparison, and a bit intimidated by Adler’s shady, rumour filled reputation.
That personal request did technically make him your CO, but even with that, Adler shouldn’t need special confirmation that you were okay. It should have been enough for Mason or Woods to pass it on.
It’s probably why you’d found yourself so drawn towards Bell. Like everyone else, his skills blew yours out of the water, but unlike them, he was a similar age to you, your work overlapped a lot, and spending time with him was the odd exception to Adler’s habit of wandering over to interrupt you.
“Yeah…” Bell’s gaze lingers on Adler too, before he looks back at you and smiles. “Are you sure you’re feeling good? You slept right through the trip back.”
“So Mason said.”
“Mason?” Bell’s eyes dart to the door behind you. “When did you speak with him?”
“Uh… a few minutes ago. I guess someone thought I shouldn’t wake up alone.”
“Adler did say… something like that.” He looks back at you. “Have you heard the plan?”
“Hudson said you had a location?”
He nods. “Duga.”
“The radar array?”
He nods again, then tilts his head as he looks down at your body, like he’s trying to assess if you’re injured. “We’ll be leaving within the hour, if Adler has his way. Are you…”
“I’m fine. I’m coming.”
“Good.” Relief floods his face again before he places his hand on your shoulder. “Listen… do you trust me?”
You stare at him for a second, taking in how serious his expression is. At least, as far as you can tell in the dim light. “Of course. I owe you my life, Bell.”
“I know…” The reminder makes him smile, as if he doesn’t care that saving you had caused two others to die. He moves his hand down to take yours, palm cool as he squeezes yours tight. “Just… whatever happens in Duga, promise me you’ll stay close to me. I’ll look after you.”
His bloodshot eyes bore into your soul, like there’s a second meaning to his words. He must be on edge, after Cuba. He looks like he hasn’t slept since then.
“I promise, Bell.” You speak softly. “I promise.”
“Good.” He starts to say something else, before Adler loudly hangs up the phone on the other side of the room, making Bell drop your hand.
You both step back from each other as he crosses the room towards you. You turn to watch him approach, only seeing out of the corner of your eye as Bell’s posture stiffens, his face hardening as he tightens his jaw.
“We’ll be out in an hour.” Adler sounds pleased with himself. “Bell, make sure Mason and Woods know. They’ll want to come with us.”
“On it.” Bell’s voice sounds wooden when he speaks, only saying those two words before he shuffles past Adler and disappears from your sight as Adler steps into your space.
“Hello.” You look up at him as he straightens his glasses.
“You… gave me quite a fright.”
“Oh… sorry.” You mumble. It wasn’t your fault you got hurt. And, since when was it his business to be worried about you? Two other operatives were dead. “I’m sorry about the others.”
“Don’t be.”
“What?”
“This is out line of business. We lose people. You can’t stop for them.”
“Right…” You nod slowly. You forget that the man is a fucking psychopath.
“What was Bell asking you about?”
“If I was okay. He pulled me out, after all.”
“That he did.” Adler smiles, then moves to one aide, between you and the rest of the room. “Did he tell you the plan?”
“Duga? Yeah.” You glance at the desk where Sims had been only a few minutes ago. His chair was empty. Where did he go?
“Right, and you’re staying here.”
“What?” Your heart sinks. He can’t be serious… not with how hard you’d worked to prove yourself, and the team being down two members.
“You’re not coming to Duga.”
“Why?”
“I said you’re not. This is my operation, and it will be too dangerous.”
“I… I’m not fragile, Adler.”
He takes in a sharp breath when you say his name, before taking another step forward, cornering you back further into the cage.
“You just survived a near hit from a rocket. It’s a miracle you’re not dead, even if we thought you were on the way back, when you wouldn’t open your eyes.” His voice cracks, as he pauses and takes in a breath. “I never should have let you come with us to Cuba.”
You take a step back, trying to move out from between him and the tall shelves behind you. Why was he so upset about you? He didn’t bat an eye over two deaths, including Park who was supposedly an old friend of his, but he was utterly messed up over the fact that you could have died?
“You’re a goddamn desk jockey. We’re going into a hell of a fire fight in Duga, which you aren’t ready for. I need you to stay here, to stay safe.”
You bristle at his words. You hadn’t always been behind a desk. You knew how to operate in the field. Did he really think you were going to sit the last little bit out? “Then, why did you ask for me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why did you ask for me to be a part of this team? Bell’s a better cryptographer than I am, and everyone else is either a fucking legend, or has connections we need.” You take another step, and end up leaning against one of the metal tables, next to an old radio. “You didn’t need me here.”
“Yes, I did. I… needed, need you.” His voice is uncharacteristically soft, but it doesn’t distract you from the fact he didn’t answer your question. Instead, he moves closer to you and takes your chin in his fingers, tilting your face up towards his.
You’d prefer he not touch you like this, but you stop yourself from pulling away from his touch. He’d easily be able to stop you from doing so, and he enjoyed a reputation that meant no one would listen to you if you tried to say anything about it.
“Do you not need me now?” The question is pathetic. You’re begging him, and you hate it, but you can’t tell what this gesture means from him, since he was an unreadable brick at the best of times, and you’d seen more emotion from him in the past five minutes than ever before. You had no idea how he was going to react.
If only Bell was here. He’d straighten this out. He’d listen to you.
Adler’s fingers tighten on your chin for a second before he drops his hand back to his side. “No, I still… fine. You can come, but you stick with me so I can keep an eye on you.”
“Yes, sir.” You nod, and he squeezes your shoulder in a way you think is meant to be praise.
“Go on, then. We leave in fifty.” He slowly moves back, just enough for you to squeeze past him into the main room and meet up with the rest of the team, already gearing up for the long trip to Duga.
True to both of their promises, with each not knowing about the other, you ride with Adler and Bell in the truck out from the infill point. You end up sitting between them, with Adler driving and you and Bell on look out, scoping the trees for any sign of a threat.
It’s strange to be in the presence of both of them at the same time. Up until now, you’d only been with them one on one, with them passing each other by like ships in the night, as Bell seemed to instinctively know to make himself scarce when Adler came around you. He was the only one who had worked it out, and everyone else was a bit harder for Adler to chase away when he’d decided your conversation with them had gone on long enough. For that, Bell had almost been exception, and Adler would leave you alone with Bell for a lot longer than anyone else, even if he did come in and send Bell away eventually.
Even though you’d only known him a few weeks, you liked being around Bell. Working with him, watching his eyes fly across the data sheets as you tried to keep up and follow his trail, talking about the missions after debrief. Talking with him was a breath of fresh air, as when you were speaking, Bell would latch onto your every word, not interrupting or talking over you, asking sensible questions to learn more about you. In turn, he was happy to tell you his stories, omitting identifiable information to be sure, but giving you enough to understand why Adler was so keen to have him here to work with you.
Adler was none of those things. Where Bell was curious and caring, Adler was domineering. He knew what was best for you, he made decisions for you, with what felt like no actual consideration for you, even though he continually sought you out to have awkward snippets of conversation, where he gave you nothing, you tried to be nice, and he always ended up steamrolling you.
They couldn’t be more different, and yet there were some striking similarities between them. Namely, that they were both drove themselves forward with a terrifying intensity. For what you couldn’t say, as neither of them graced you with their thoughts, but you’d seen how, at times, they would wear the same expressions, their eyes smoulder in the same way, searching for a way to their target.
It hadn’t let up now that they were headed in to the final confrontation. You’d expected the car ride to be full of snide conversation as they competed for your attention, but it had been strangely quiet the whole time. You weren’t about to start anything either, not after Adler’s odd behaviour back in the safehouse, and you couldn’t talk to Bell about what you wanted to with him around. You’d being trying to find a quiet moment to ask Bell if he was okay ever since you’d left the safehouse, but someone had always been around the pair of you for the whole trip.
Besides, this wasn’t a pleasure trip. Your eyes scan the forest outside as you drive past. As far as you can tell, the trees outside are as quiet as the inside of the truck is. After Cuba, you’d expected to find heavy resistance, but there had been nothing so far. You have to keep resisting the urge to grab Bell’s hand when his shoulder rubs against yours, as Mason and Woods call in to report similar lack of activity from their side of the site.
It was odd, but not damning yet. Perhaps Perseus was only working with small number of men, to keep his profile low, or because he believed no one would be able to discover his location. Maybe, it wasn’t even you he was trying to hide from, instead, from the authorities in Moscow, not counting on getting caught in Adler’s crosshairs instead.
“Alright… everyone converge on the gate.” Adler sighs, putting down the receiver after the latest check in with Mason and Woods. “Seeing anything?”
“No.” You glance at Adler, as Bell shakes his head. You still can’t see any sign of worry in him, though he must be feeling it by now.
Adler slows the truck down as he turns a corner and approaches the gate. There’s a truck already stopped by the gate, and two figures on the ground opening it so you can head deeper into the compound.
The buildings are dwarfed by the treeline, a soviet flag flapping in the breeze… and everything is still quiet. There are no patrols, no guards on the doors. It’s like the whole place is deserted.
Adler stops the truck just inside the chain link boundary, nodding to Mason and Woods in greeting as he turns to get out of the truck. Bell quickly grabs your hand and squeezes it, silently reminding you of your promise, before he picks up his gun and swings himself out of the passenger door.
You were about to follow him when Adler leans back and places his hand on your arm. “Remember, stick by me.”
You nod, and he lets you go, getting out of the driver’s side as you follow Bell out of the passengers.
“There’s nothing here. This can’t be the right place.” Mason shakes his head as he approaches. Adler heads forward to speak with him, not noticing as you hang back to stay between him and Bell, who had stopped next to the truck’s bonnet.
“We didn’t see anything on our side either.” Adler says, which you confirm by nodding to Mason, before glancing back at the woods around you. On a nice day like this, you’d expect to hear birdsong, or insects buzzing around, but there’s nothing.
“I knew it!” Woods strides forward, brushing you aside, closer to Adler. “He fucking lied to us!”
You’re about to ask who, when Adler’s head turns, as if daring you to, before turning back to face Bell, still loitering by the truck.
“Is that true, Bell?” His shoulders tighten, and your fingers feel numb as he clicks the safety on his gun off. What was this lie about? “Did you pull us out to the middle of nowhere Russia so Perseus can detonate those nukes?”
What did those nukes have to do with Bell? He’s working to stop them, for God’s sake. You try and look at Bell, but for the first time since you’ve met him, he refuses to meet your eyes. You glance at Mason, who’s eyes are only ahead, like Woods’ and Adler’s, like they know something you don’t.
“Yes.”
Bell’s one word answer chills you to your core. It wasn’t possible, that the person you’d gotten to know the last few weeks was actually your enemy, someone who was planning to detonate them all in the first place. The man you knew wouldn’t do that.
“Why? What kind of fucked up logic are you working with, there?” Adler seems to be in as much denial as you.
Bell shrugs. “Unless stopped, the United States will harm the world a lot more than a few nukes.”
“Those nukes were for defence, not offence. You don’t recognise the difference?” Adler moves between you and Bell, cutting off your view of the other man entirely. Your hands shake as you grasp your gun. So much for your promises. “I’d let you walk back to Perseus, but I think I’ll spare you the regret instead.”
“I wouldn’t have gone alone… this would have always come to violence.” Bell leans to one side, so he can see you around Adler’s frame. If he’s hurt by your gun pointing more towards him than the ground, he doesn’t show it. “Goodbye, Adler.”
In the next seconds, all hell breaks loose. Soviet soldiers flood out from the trees, an RPG blast detonates almost directly in front of you, and gunfire fills the air as you, Mason, Woods and Adler fall back. Before you get far, it becomes apparent that Adler’s been shot, clutching his side as blood seeps through his clothes. He falls on you for support, and you struggle to keep him upright, moving back to the few scattered concrete barriers that could possibly offer cover.
Mason and Woods get there first, staying to cover you as you drag Adler onwards into the building ahead of you, in vain hopes that you’ll lose them. You hurry him as much as you can, trying to not think about how he’s leaving a trail of blood on the tiled floors as you twist through the messy, abandoned corridors, before he points you into a control room, to set up for a last stand.
Adler tries to lean against a wall, but the second you let go of him, he collapses to the floor, forcing you back to his side, using your hands to try and compress the wound in his side. Being inside has done nothing to muffle the gunfire around the building, and you try to keep as low as you can, hyper aware of the many windows in the room as Adler groans and struggles in pain. Cries for help keep coming through his radio before you turned it off, the buttons slippery under your wet fingers, as he breathes painfully.
“Who… who is Bell?” You ask, after a moment, to try and keep him conscious and to distract yourself from the feeling of warm blood on your hands.
“He… an agent for Perseus. We picked him up in turkey, and… made him think he was working for us.”
“How?”
“Classified.”
“Really?” You snap in disbelief, that he’s planning on taking you to the grave with him without the truth.
“Yes.” He grunts, raising his left hand to press on top of yours. “Needs more pressure.”
“Right.” You press harder too, trying to focus as the gunfire stops and silence returns outside, all too quickly.
“He’s going to come for us, now.” Adler murmurs.
You were about to retort, and spit every demeaning thing he’d said back at him, when you heard a voice floating down the corridor, calling out to you, the mice, who were being hunted. You’re about to take up your gun from your side, when you feel the heavy barrel of a pistol digging into your body through your clothes, just below your sternum.
If Adler fired, he’d be sure to hit your heart.
“You’re mine,” he murmurs, grip weak even as he tried to strengthen it. The blood loss was already hitting him… but not enough to make him incapable of pulling the trigger. “Not his.”
You want so badly to jump back away from him, to at least go down fighting, but you can only stay still as you hear the door behind you open.
Two people enter. One set of footsteps stop in the doorway, but the other continues, and Bell slowly enters your vision, gun raised as he takes in the scene before him.
Adler, clearly dying, but with his gun aimed at your heart, and you, unable to move away, to defend yourself, to do anything than continue your futile attempts to keep Adler’s blood in his body, as it soaks completely through his clothes to stain your fingers.
“Stop…” Adler wheezes, swallowing as he tries to steady his voice. “One more step, Bell, and neither of us have her.”
“Don’t call me that.” Bell’s voice is dead calm, though you can’t tell if that’s for his sake or Adler’s. “As if you ever had her. She hates you.”
His declaration was news to you, at least.
Did you hate Adler? He was raging asshole, who got too close to comfort and seemed interested in you in particular, but you wouldn’t say you hated him.
Then again, that was before he held a gun to you, and you realised just how far he was willing to go.
“Then why is she keeping me alive?” Adler flexes into your hands, sitting up by half an inch. His skin is growing paler, and his blood is clotting in the material over his wound.
“Alive… sure.” Bell vocalises what everyone knows. Adler’s dying. If he was in a hospital at this very moment, he might live, but now, with where you are, who you’re with you… he had no chance. “You tell her the truth about me?”
“Enough.”
“Is that true?” Bell turns to you. “Do you know what he did to me?”
You slowly shake your head. You could speculate, but knowing Adler was involved in it, the truth of what had happened to Bell would be far worse than anything you could imagine.
You do hate him, don’t you? You’d have to hate someone, to believe they’d be capable of doing something so messed up to another person.
You feel your hands slowly relaxing, removing the pressure from his wound. He doesn’t seem to notice, even as fresh blood flows from his side. He’s too focused on Bell to think about anything else.
“Are you trying to preserve your image? To lie, and keep lying, so she never knows that you’re capable of rewriting the minds of people who disagree with you?” Bell dares to move closer, as Adler’s hand shakes.
For a moment, the metal isn’t pressing against your chest, swaying away before returning, as Adler huffs rather than answering Bell with words.
“Put that down and die.” Bell looks down at him. “I’ll take better care of her than you ever could.”
“No, you wo…” Adler breathes out, leaving his final words unfinished as his arm goes limp, the pistol falling into your lap as he lapses into unconsciousness.
You barely have time to think about if you just killed him – by blood loss alone, he was doomed to die, but you taking the pressure off it sped it up, though he’s likely only unconscious now – before Bell grabs your arm and drags you back from Adler’s body, shooting a spray of bullets into it.
Adler’s body twitches as the shots echo through the building, then lies still, without breath, as Bell’s arm tightens around your shoulder, pulling you to your feet.
You can’t feel anything except the cooling blood on your hands.
“Ah… that’s better. I’ve always preferred it when a love story ends happily.” The second figure approaches you slowly from behind as Bell turns to face him, pulling you with him.
You barely take in the long military jacket before he reaches up to remove his gas mask, revealing the face of the man you know as Perseus. Adler’s long quarry, standing over him, victorious. Because of you.
“That was cold… bleeding out is a horrible way to die.” The man smiles at you, like you did something good. He’s older than the photograph, but unmistakeable. As is, how deep in the shit you currently are. “But, he always liked decisive ones.”
“There aren’t… weren’t any others.” Bell says quietly, pulling Perseus’ attention away from you, as he squeezes you tight again.
“Very true.” Perseus produces a radio, lengthening the antenna before speaking. Your brain struggles to catch up and translate the Russian for a moment. “Solovetsky. Stand by for the detonation order.”
The reply is affirmative, before Perseus turns, and holds the radio out to Bell. “I think you deserve this moment, comrade.”
The nukes. The realisation of what is happening barely hits you, before you see Bell take the radio, and utter the command with such cold declaration in his voice, you shiver.
You do not know the man holding you tightly. What you knew was a fabrication, stitched together by Adler. But he knows you. And, it looks like he’s going to keep you with him. He’s just ordered the deaths of millions, while stroking the back of your neck like a lover, with the one man who, despite his obvious flaws, would have protected you from it. Who tried, in his own fucked up, equally unwelcome way. Who has his blood on your hands for his trouble.
“I wish we could return to Solovetsky to watch it all unfold, but that chapter is closed now. We begin the next one… together.” You can feel Perseus gaze linger on you, as you rest your head dumbly on Bell’s arm. At least you try, until Perseus takes your chin and makes you look at him, as he switches back to English for your benefit. “Ah… you probably still think I’m Perseus. As if he could ever be an individual working alone…”
Bell raises his hand, brushing the older man’s hand away from you. He nods, then chuckles.
“Quite right.” He glances towards Adler’s body, before looking back at Bell. “We’ll need a new home, now. The central committee will be more surprised than the CIA.”
That should mean something to you. You should be listening to their conversation, gathering intel to feed to the CIA when you can make contact again.
If they don’t write you off as a traitor.
“Come… there is still much to be done.” The man leads the way out of the room, hurrying ahead as Bell moves slower, trying to keep you upright at his side. You find that your legs are moving, mechanically keeping you moving at his side, the sounds of soldiers rushing about outside coming closer and closer, until you reach the doors out of the building, and Bell stops, finally looking down at your hands.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” His voice is suddenly soft again, as he guides you to a bench and gets you to sit, before leaning outside to ask for some water.
He sits next to you, picking up your hands, rolling your sleeves back and holding them away from your lap as he opens a canteen and pours water over your skin. The water dilutes the blood, washing it away to splatter on the tiles below in murky scarlet puddles. He dries your hands with his scarf, before letting you go, and watching as you sit silently at his side.
“Do you hate me?” He asks, after you don’t thank him.
“For what?” Your throat is heavy, and it’s hard for you to form the words and get them out. It’s like something is choking you, but there’s nothing around your neck.
“For everything.” He rests one of his hands on your knee. “I… forgot some things, and only recalled them recently. I should have told you about them, rather than asking for your blind trust.”
If millions of people hadn’t just died, you’d laugh. He thought you’d hate him for lying about who he was?
“No… I don’t hate you for that.” The lie is too easy. If it means you can survive… it will do.
And, its technically true. For now, at least. You can’t say you feel hatred towards him. You don’t feel anything. Mason and Woods lie dead somewhere outside those doors, Adler behind you, and Lazar and Park in Cuba, all because of the man in front of you. You feel nothing, in the face of all this death, and all those he condemned to die with three words.
“Are you ready to go?” He stands up, holding his hand out to you. “You don’t have to look.”
But, you will anyway. He’s not devoid enough from the Bell you got to know, who stayed up late to work with you, spent his own money to get your preferred coffee brand, saved your life, for you to know how you feel about him.
You should hate him. When the grief, anger, shock fades, you should be angry, full of visceral rage, hatred, because what he has done to you personally, and the world, is unacceptable.
you need to understand that i have two sets of headcanons. there's the set of realistic headcanons based on my genuine reading of the show, and then there's me playing pretend with my dolls.
i feel like a lot of fandoms pride themselves on being gayer than the source material but have they considered being less racist and less misogynistic than the source material as well . could be revolutionary
A reminder that darker fiction has a right to exist and explore themes that people are uncomfortable with. Yes, even if it's romanticized. Yes, even if you personally don't like it.
Authors have always written about things that they don't agree with morally, and I hope to god they always will, despite how shitty people treat them for doing that now.
It's Russell's birthday, and Helen is going to put on a show for him, using the new toy he's picked out.
The toy just doesn't know that yet.
In a week, your life has gone to absolute fucking shit.
You lost your job with no warning; had your car towed despite it being parked in the lines, in your assigned spot, with your resident badge prominently placed in the window; had your bank call you about suspicious activity on your accounts, then freezing them, and your credit too, which meant you couldn’t pay your rent this month, and your landlord had bluntly told you that he didn’t care what you were going through, if you weren’t paid up by the 28th, you were out. Even your phone and internet weren’t safe, with the services randomly cutting off and the providers claiming the account holder (who was you) had cancelled them, when you certainly hadn’t. Not that it mattered – if you couldn’t get your cards unfrozen, you wouldn’t be able to pay the bills anyway.
You literally couldn’t do anything. All you had was the cash in your wallet, a couple of small notes and all the loose change you could scrape together to get yourself a commiserative drink, before tomorrow when you had to face the music and sort your shit out.
The drink went down terrifyingly quickly, with the alcohol hitting you fast as you had it on an empty stomach. You desperately wanted another, and now you were huddled over on one end of the bar, literally counting your pennies to see if you could afford it.
“Hey…” a woman’s voice at your elbow breaks your focus. Your fingers fumble and you knock over a stack of coins, scattering them across the varnished wood. “Let me buy you one.”
You look up, face hot as you try to scrape the coins up again. You still, seeing her smile at you, not a hint of pity in her blue eyes. She’s completely out of your league, even if you hadn’t been at your wits end. She has a mole on her right cheek, and you can’t tell what colour her hair is dark in the dim bar. You think it could be black or brown, like the scarf tied tightly around her neck, framing her face beautifully.
Eventually, you realise that you’re staring. “No, thank you, really, you don’t have to….”
“Jesus…” she sighs loudly. “I’m not being nice to you. I just can’t watch this any longer.”
“Oh… okay.”
She raises her hand and gets the bartenders attention, sliding a folded bill across the bar. “Two gin fizzes, please.”
“Right away.” He takes it and starts making the drinks, his back turned as you awkwardly scrape your coins back into your wallet.
She tilts her head, tucking her hair behind one ear as she continues to watch you. “Had a bad day?”
“Uh… yeah.” You tuck it back into your pocket. “A bad week, really.”
“Oh…” she sighs again, softly this time, as the bartender serves her the drinks. “We can’t have that.”
“Your change…” the bartender starts, before she smiles and interrupts him.
“Keep it.” She stands before taking the drinks and turning, heading towards a booth in the back of the bar. “Come on.”
You start, before realising she wants you to follow her. You hadn’t thought she was serious about buying you a drink.
You slide into the booth opposite her, securing your bag in your lap as she pushes one of the glasses towards you. “I thought you weren’t being nice to me.”
She laughs, leaning over the table to give you another smile. “Sarcasm, darling. Of course I’m being nice to you.”
“Oh… well thank you.” You raise your glass towards her. “Cheers?”
She clinks hers with yours, and you both sip. The drink is sweet. Lemony, but leaves an aftertaste of gin.
“So…” she looks at you again. “What’s made your week so bad?”
“Ugh… everything. I lost my job, my car… I’ll lose my place at the end of the month if my bank keeps my cards frozen.” You stop yourself from saying too much, and take another sip. This stuff was good. “Just… lots of bad storms at once.”
“Aww, that’s awful.” She reaches out and takes your hand, squeezing it tight. “You really needed a drink, huh?”
“Yeah.” You mumble, looking down at the table. Her hand is so warm and soft. Reassuring. “Just wanted to forget it all, just for tonight.”
“I get it.” She sighed, drinking again. “I could help you with that.”
“With…” You look up at her, and her damn smile. Oh god, she was flirting with you. “Well, I…”
“I’d like to, in all honesty. Making people forget about their stresses… it’s kind of a specialty of mine.”
“Really?” The word comes out harsher than you mean it.
“Don’t sound so judgemental… I don’t sleep around. It’s just something I’ve been told.”
“There’s nothing wrong with sleeping around.” You swallow, licking the sugar from the rim of your glass off your lips.
“Really? Prove it.”
“You mean…”
“Come home with me, prove you don’t mind a bit of fun, and that I know what I’m doing.”
“Oh… alright.” You nod. “I’d like that.”
She leans down and kisses the back of your hand. Your skin it wet when she rises up, and you’re not sure if she kissed or licked you.
“Good…” she cuts herself off before the second word, God knows what it was, and nudges your glass towards you. “We’d better drink up, then.”
You follow her lead and drink quickly, then clutch her hand to steady yourself as she gets you out of the bar and into a waiting taxi.
Your driver is either deaf, or doing a world class job of ignoring what is happening in his back seat, as she drags you towards her and kisses you, tugging on the buttons of your shirt. You gasp, and one of your hands flies out to grab hold of the back of the driver’s seat to steady yourself. That makes him turn his head slightly, the streetlights outside reflecting off his tinted glasses, before he goes back to not acknowledging what is happening, turning up the radio to fill the car with smooth jazz. You shove your body against hers, as it strikes you that you don’t even know her name, yet you’re grinding against her, desperately, as the car turns and turns again, before stopping, and she pops up, looking out of the window.
“Oh, look… we’re home already.” She grabs your hand again, pulling you with her as she climbs out of the car. You emerge into the cool night, clutching the front of your shirt closed as you hurry with her up the rest of the driveway to a well-cared for, if not otherwise unremarkable, two-story home.
The porch light is on, just above the door, and in it you finally get to see that her hair is black, falling about her face as she digs in her pockets for her keys. She hums, searching one by one, clutching your hand tightly as the ring jingles and she unlocks the door, pulling you inside.
You enter a small, tidy hall, with a coat hook on one wall, and a shoe rack under the stairs. It seems to be quite a full shoe rack, but then she does seem like a fashionable type that would have lots of shoes. She’s dressed in well fitting slim cut jeans, hard worn boots, and not that she’s removed her jacket, you can see her soft, cable knit jumper hugging her shoulders. She hangs her coat on the hook, in amongst many others. There seem to be quite a lot there, of varying sizes, but maybe she just doesn’t have anywhere else to keep them.
You can’t think about it for too long, as she takes your things and leaves them in a pile on the floor before pulling you on further into the house. The next door takes you into a decently sized kitchen, with a wooden dining table and what look like marble counter tops.
“How about one more drink?” She turns to you, smiling.
You can only see her by the streetlight coming in from outside, then the light from the fridge as she opens the door. “One can’t hurt.”
“Oh, then let’s make it a party…” she pulls out a bottle of prosecco like she’d been planning it, “go on and grab a seat through there.”
“Actually… could I use the bathroom quickly?”
“Oh… yeah, sure. Back into the hall, the door on the left.” Her voice is suddenly tighter, as she struggles with the bottle.
“Thanks.” You turn back and find your way to the bathroom. Shit, you’re so nervous. You haven’t done anything like this in a long time, and she’s so gorgeous, and smart, and really into you. It was almost like the universe had sent her as a ‘hey, my bad’ for fucking your life up seven ways to hell this week.
You lock the door and turn to the sink, splashing cold water on your face as you try to fix your hair back into place. The cars headlights are shining through the glazed window, reflecting off the mirror when you move out of the way. You squint, trying to see what he is doing through the obscured glass. It’s a bit odd that he’s hanging around like this. On a night like tonight, you’d think a taxi would get bookings quickly.
You shook your head, and turned back to the mirror. Who cares what he was doing – the taxi driver’s business had nothing to do with yours. With your nerves steeled, you return to the kitchen to find it empty, and light coming from the room to your left.
You follow it to find her bent over a record player, carefully lifting the needle up.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” She smiles at you, getting up slowly so you can admire her ass. “Drink?”
“Yes.” You both collapse onto the sofa, drinking prosecco from fluted glasses, hands finding each other’s over the cushions. You’re itching for her to do more to you again, restless without her touch as the music dips and the next song starts, slow and sensual.
“Oh, I love this one…” she stands up. “Dance with me?”
You join her, and she takes no time melding her body with yours, less dancing than swaying on the spot as she gropes your ass. As the song goes on, music thumping through your body, you work up the courage to kiss her, which makes her groan. Her tits are pressed against yours, and, even through layers of clothing, making yours sensitive. The pressure is running down your body, making you already hot between your thighs, as you hold her hips, tugging lightly on her belt loops before she stumbles, breaking the two of you apart.
You fall, catching yourself before you hit the ground hard, but not enough to stop her leaning over you and pinning you down.
“I think that’s enough talking, don’t you?”
“I think you have an interesting definition of talking.”
She laughs. “Maybe I do. I was hoping you’d be interested in a little bit more than just… talking.”
“Would I be here if I wasn’t?”
She cups your cheek softly. “No, you wouldn’t… come on, upstairs then.”
Your drinks stay unfinished on the table as she leads you back across the kitchen and up the stairs.
Your heart is racing as you emerge up onto a landing, the woman squeezing your hand in the darkness as she opens a door and flips a switch.
Soft light fills the room, showing you an area with a sofa and a desk on either side, leading to an archway in the wall that revealed a bedroom.
“What do you think?” She went ahead into the room, switching a lamp in the corner on, and turning off the overhead lights.
“It’s…” you’re about to compliment her massive bed, which itself is a treat compared to your narrow twin back in your own place, never mind the company, until you emerge through the archway, and see a floor to ceiling mirror covering an entire wall. “Is that…”
“Yeah?” She walks back to you, tugging you into the room so both of you appear in the mirror. “It’s a built-in closet.”
“Oh…”
“I did say I was good about what I do, didn’t I?” She slips behind you, mostly disappearing behind your reflection, apart from her hands sneaking up around your middle to undo the rest of your shirt, her face peeking over your shoulder as she tugs it away from your body.
Its removal reveals your bra, a plain, kind of old one. It was functional, far from the sexy lace that the current situation demanded, but you’d hardly been planning this when you got dressed this morning.
“Do you want me to take it off?” She murmurs, her touch hovering millimetres away from the clasp at your back. She was so eager, she’d probably do it regardless of what you answered.
“Yes…” you breath out, taking that complication away, and before the single syllable finishes passing your lips, she snaps the back open. The straps swiftly tumble from your shoulder, before the whole thing flops away from your tits on to the floor.
“Jesus, these are hot…” she cups your boobs immediately, hands warm against your skin as you chuckle nervously. Did she really think that?
Before you can ask, she slides one of her hands south, first tugging on your waistband, then undoing your button and fly, her hand bulging the front of your jeans out as she slips it into the new space.
“You work quick…” you reach up and push your thumbs through your belt loops, tugging your them down over your hips.
“So do you.” She responds, kissing your shoulder before watching as you pull your trousers down, leaving you only in your underwear. “Are we taking turns or…”
“No.” You take a deep breath, then pull your underwear down too, kicking them aside on the floor as she moves her hands back to your hips, leaving you staring at your own reflection in the mirror.
She shivers behind you, finally pressing her body against yours again, her clothes annoyingly blocking you from feeling her skin. “I don’t think I can wait much longer. Are you ready for me to take control of you?”
“Yeah.” You nod, and she moans softly behind you.
“Thank you. You won’t regret it.” She moves out from behind you, shoving you back to sit on the edge of the bed. She leans above you for a moment, hooking a finger under your chin, tilting your face up and smiling at you.
You grab the blanket tightly in your hands, feeling your heartbeat through your whole body as she slowly kneels in front of you, grasping your knees and parting your legs. She drags her eyes away from yours, going instead to your beautifully available cunt. For a moment, her mouth hangs open in reverie, before she blinks, shakes her head slightly, and moves herself in between your thighs.
She starts by kissing your stomach. Her mouth is hot on your body, alternating between her kisses and her tongue lapping at your skin as she trails down your mound to your clit. Her lips fumble at first, and she quickly moves a hand from your thigh to help her find it, which she does, lapping at it, before taking it between her lips and sucking it hard.
You gasp, shuddering as her chin grazes your already wet pussy, making eye contact with yourself in the mirror. Your mind is half out of your body as you watch yourself, only half aware of it when one of your hands moves from the blanket and tangles in her soft hair, resting on the crown of her head as she kisses your clit. Her hands encourage you to lift your hips up, giving her better access to your cunt, her fingers replacing her lips and rubbing circles in a rhythm matching your heartbeat, as her tongue dips inside you.
The sounds seem to echo through the room as you fight to keep breathing evenly, not wanting to not look so utterly destroyed when she’d only just started. You lean back, eyes stuck on your own body and how your tits moved with your rapid breaths, hips jolting as she pressed harder on your clit, and pleasure flooded through you, a weak moan trailing from your mouth as your grip on her hair tightened, her elbows preventing your thighs from clamping about her head.
You blinked rapidly, trying to refocus on something present, finding her face, which already felt familiar, your hand falling from her hair as she sits back, wiping her mouth and smiling.
“I think you needed that.”
“Yeah… you might be right.” You sit back further on the bed, leaning back on your hands as she slides up to sit next to you, rubbing your thigh as you slowly collect yourself.
It takes you a moment, before you lean up to her side, and slip your hand under her shirt, pressing your hand against her back. “It doesn’t seem fair that I’m the only one naked here.”
“Touché.” She smiles, and lets you undress her quickly, barely letting you admire her before she pushes your shoulder back. “Come on, lie down.”
“Why?”
“I’m going to sit on your face.”
“Oh?”
“Do you not want that?”
“No… no, I want that.” You follow her directions, lying on your back along the end of the bed, sinking into the covers so only half of your nudity is visible in the mirror when you glance over and see her watching you.
“Ready?”
“Ready.” You breathe in deeply as she climbs up over your face, knees settling either side of your head, revealing her cunt to you, as you part your lips to greet it with your tongue, instinctively reaching up to wrap your arms around her thighs.
She tastes fucking divine. You have to force yourself to stop and breath, before parting your lips wider and lapping at her cunt again, pushing your tongue across it in steady, broad strokes. You gasp in air through your mouth, your nose so firmly lodged against her clit, it’s like it’s pinched shut. The room around you feels cold compared to your body’s warmth, especially when she squeezes her thighs around your head. You grip them tighter as she reaches down to grab your hair, tugging on the strands as she moans, mouth hanging open as her head turns towards the mirror again.
You can’t turn to follow her gaze, so focus on making her come, her cunt tasting sweeter as she shudders over you. You can’t bring yourself to stop, and keep going until she pries your hands off her thighs and falls off you, back onto the bed.
“You certainly know what you’re doing.”
“Thank you.” You slowly sit up on your elbows, looking at her flushed face, as she tidies her hair, legs folded closed as she collects herself again.
“Oh… look at you…” the sight of your face seems to restore her faster.
Like you’re following and order, you turn and look at yourself. Your lips are already swelling slightly, and you hadn’t even realised that her come was still on your face, cooling and growing sticky now that your face wasn’t between her thighs. You sit up and lean closer, about to wipe it away until she sneaks up to your side and pulls you back into a kiss.
You open your mouth and let her tongue in, moaning as she eats herself out of you, before leaning back and cleaning your face herself.
“Ready for your turn?”
“Sure.” You let her guide you to sit on the edge of the bed again, but this time with her sat at your side rather than in front of you. She tiptoes her index and middle finger down your body until she reaches your pussy, spreads it wide and sinks them in.
You moan, wrapping one of your arms around her shoulders, trusting her to hold you up as she fucks you with her fingers. Just two of them, dragging them in and out of your pussy, the pleasure building quickly inside of you again as you roll your hips up. You push against the floor with your tiptoes, desperate for any more leverage as her arm around your middle squeezes tighter, with her hushed breaths in your ear.
The reflections in the mirror blur, making it look like your bodies are melding together before you close your eyes, tilting your head back as your mouth falls open with a moan, cunt pulsating around her fingers, squeezing them tight as you come. Your grip on her fails, leaving you weak in her arms before she lets you lie down, collapsing to the blankets with a soft huff, as she continues gently rubbing her fingers just inside your pussy, dragging your pleasure out even more.
You blink uselessly at the ceiling as she soothes you, her thigh still pressed against yours, before suddenly she’s gone.
You whine, and struggle to raise your head to watch her as she walks to one end of the wardrobe and rolls the door back slightly, clicking her tongue as she digs around for something inside.
Without her touch to keep it away, intense sleepiness crashes into you. After your bad week, the alcohol, the exerted fun you’d just had, you were quite ready to curl up and go to sleep.
She, however, has other plans, as she returns to the bed with a basket in her hands.
“What’re you thinking?”
She looked down at you, taking in your tired, washed-out state. She presses the back of her knuckles to your cheek, leaning over you. “How I haven’t made you cry yet.”
You inhale sharply, eyes darting to what she has in her hands. “Planning to remedy that?”
“Oh, yes.” She takes something out of the box, not letting you see it as her hand moves down between your legs. You moan softly, still hot from her fingers, before you feel something small and plastic rubbing against your clit.
“Is that…”
She answers you by turning the bullet vibrator on.
You cry out, your back arching off the blanket, legs clamping shut around her hand. She simply chuckles, settling closer to your side as she presses the button again, turning the vibrations up even more.
It’s all too much for you. You’re still sensitive from your last orgasm, and with such an intense sensation coming from something so small, you tried to grab onto her to get her to move it away, but she’s too busy watching you in the mirror to pay attention to you.
You swallow, trying to focus enough to form words, but all that comes out of tour throat is something that could be a moan, a whimper, a laugh, even you can’t tell, as you feel yourself coming again. Smaller than the previous one, but your pleasure peaks once again at her hands.
She sees it too, quickly turning it off and extracting her hand from your thighs as you lie, now truly washed-out, at her mercy.
With a lot of struggle, you manage to sit up on your elbows. Surely it must be her turn again.
She brushes you away, her touch turning into a forceful shove as she insists you go back to the covers. She’s able to tame you with one hand, keeping it resting on your collar bone the other roots in the basket to find something else to play with.
Once she’s found what she wants, she leans down to brush your hair back and kiss your forehead. “Good girl.”
“What…” you mumble. Why was she calling you… that, out of nowhere?
Was that what she’d stopped herself saying earlier in the bar?
She changes her position, going from sitting to lying by your side. She grabs your right leg, dragging it to one side and pinning it down with hers. Your left spreads in the other direction instinctively, which makes her smile, your throbbing cunt now open for her business again. She places one hand just below your neck, pressing flat on your skin as her elbow presses into your shoulder, propping her up as her other hand moves back between your legs, holding something tight.
You can’t see it, and can only guess by feel. It’s plastic again, larger than before. You whimper as the blunt head presses at your cunt. The woman, whose name you still don’t know, you realise, shushes you, and slowly presses the vibrator into your soft, giving hole.
You gasp, unable to move as discomfort pricks up your spine. You’ve just come twice and are wet as water, but it’s still a while since you had anything inside you. It’s a pinch before you take a deep breath, and your body relaxes, taking it in until her fingertips press at your lips.
She mumbles praise again, but you only half hear it, focused on how the vibrator feels, dragging out of you, then pushing back in, slowly, torturously so, as she lets you breathe in between each movement, like she’s finally realised this is a lot for you, and is giving you space to get used to it.
Then, she turns on the vibrations. They’re slow, at first. You barely notice them, until she starts to move it faster, and the buzzing reaches your ears in bursts. You moan, legs shaking in her grip, fingers digging into the blankets again as she fucks you with it faster, still looking more at your reflection than you.
You reach up to grab her arm, trying to get her to slow down as you orgasm, and she finally listens, slowing the pace as you moan through it, shutting off the vibrations and leaving it inside you as she pats your thigh, leaning down to kiss your face again. Her breath smells heavy, and you’re not sure if is her or the room that smells of sex.
Eventually, she lets you up and helps you back towards the pillows. She curls up to your side, resting her head on your shoulder, black hair falling over your skin as she lazily gropes your boobs.
You gasp softly, pressing your legs together as her expert fingers tugging on your boobs. “Don’t…”
“What?”
“Don’t do that.”
She stops, leaning her head up. “Why?”
“It’ll make me need to come again…”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“I don’t want to be too tired and for you to miss out…”
She laughs, and rests her head back on your shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. You keep an eye on yourself, and tell me when you get desperate.”
You nod slowly, dragging your eyes up to meet your reflection.
You actually look quite sexy like this, despite how tired you feel. You try to minutely fix your posture as she plays with you, the need between your legs growing by the minute.
“Uh, please…”
“Oh? Ready already?”
“Don’t laugh at me.”
“I’m not.” She kisses your cheek. “I promise.”
She rolls away from your side, and returns holding a dildo. A large, surprisingly realistic dildo.
“That’s… big.” You manage, half raising a hand to touch it.
“Yeah?” She lets you wrap your hand around it, feeling its weight as she leans over and grabs lube. “You’re going to love him.”
“If you say so.” You spread your legs for him, watching as she lubes it up, and slowly lowers it to your entrance. You brace yourself, reaching out to grab hold of the top of the headboard, gripping it tight as she inserts ‘him’ into you.
You hiss slightly at the cold lube, before tilting your head back in a silent O, struggling to keep your eyes open as she pushes the dildo into you. Like with the vibrator, she goes slowly, out and in, each time a little more, each time dragging louder, longer moans from you. Before long, the entire thing has disappeared inside you, and you recover enough to look at her and see her smile.
“I knew you’d take him.”
“Thank you.” You gasp before she kisses you, leaning up over you.
“Want to help me?” She grabs one of your hands, prying it free from the headboard and dragging it down to wrap around the base of the dildo, with hers closing over the top of it. “Ready? Out on three… one, two… three.”
You moan as she drags your hand and the dildo back as far as you can reach, before her palm presses against the back of your hand, and it starts to go back inside you.
You moan shamelessly, fingers shaking as you try to keep your grip as she pulls it out again, faster now, and faster still when she presses it in again. Your hand is on the dildo helping it move, but you’re not really in control. She’s leading you, splitting you open on this fake dick, for once keeping her eyes on you as she fucks you with it viciously, bending for different angles, until you go slack entirely, head rolling back. Your arm aches from the pace, but you can’t do anything to stop it. You could struggle, but she had you pinned down again. You couldn’t get out of this, even if you wanted to.
“Oh god…” you cry out as she speeds up again, brow wrinkling as you feel… something building inside of you.
“Helen,” she corrects you with a wicked smile.
“Helen…” you gasp her beautiful name as you come, accompanied by a burst of liquid from you. “Oh fuck…”
“Oh, there we go… he got you to squirt…” she murmurs, before kissing your forehead and pushing the dildo all the way into you. She presses your hand against it; making it clear that it was there to stay.
You whine uselessly as she moved her hands to your thighs, pressing them closed as your hands fall back to the bed, fingers twitching as you tried to get control of your body back.
“Are you enjoying him?” She whispers to you, face turned away from the mirror as her words made you shiver. Why did she keep referring to the dildo like a person?
“Yeah…” the syllable struggles out of your throat as she tilts your chin up, hiding your face from the mirror, too.
“Can I do one more? Can you come once more for me?”
You think you can. Once more, and then you can rest. “Yes, maybe… one.”
“Thank you…” she kisses you, moving her body in front of you, letting you enjoy her touch again rather than being made to watch it in the mirror. “One more from me.”
She moves away quickly, dragging you down from the pillows so you lie the opposite way on the bed. She sits between your legs, thighs still stiff and tender from keeping the dildo inside you. You swallow, head tilted off the edge of the bed, staring at your own reflection to keep yourself focused now that your world has been inverted.
She hums as she reaches back to the basket for something, and you feel your heart start to race again as she pushed the small vibrator back against your clit. You tense, waiting for the vibrations, but they don’t come. The blunt pressure is maddening, enough to make you squeeze around the dildo, but not more. You swallow again, blinking rapidly, about to raise your head and ask what she’s doing, mouth open.
That’s when she turns it on. Your question falls away, mouth turning to a perfect o as your head falls back, hair tangled over your forehead as you gasp, pant, moan, over and over. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you fight to keep them open, watching your own reflection, bracing yourself with your arms clutching the blankets tight as your back arches, pushing your tits in the air. The moment seems to last forever, before the knot inside you breaks and you fall back down, sobbing as the tears run from your eyes and into your hair.
The vibrator vanishes, and she’s on you in an instant. She cradles your face, slowly lifting your boneless, limp body back to the pillows, fluffing them up so you can lay down on them, head cushioned so you can stare up at the blank ceiling, which is far more pleasant for your tired brain. You’re about to go to sleep when she sits up at your side and calls out. “So, how’s that for a birthday present?”
You blink slowly. It’s not your birthday. Why was she saying that?
The wardrobe door squeaks, as someone opens it from the inside.
Soft light spills out, before a silhouette of a man fills the door way, not into a wardrobe, but a hidden room.
Something stirs deep within you. Panic. You’re scared. You’ve been tricked – kidnapped, maybe.
Helen seems to sense it, and she briefly turns her attention back to you, gently cupping your face in her hands. “None of that, now darling. I’ll keep you safe… just lie still now.”
“Skittish, huh?” He speaks, voice rough and rumbling as he bends to get through the false door and approach the end of the bed.
“She’s done well, don’t be like that.”
“Sorry.” He says, without much meaning, crawling onto the bed to stare between your legs, where the dildo is still lodged.
You try to protest, to move yourself away, but Helen holds you still, her hands tight on your wrist and shoulder, her legs pinning one of yours, simply smiling as he gets closer to you.
“This is Russell, darling. If you hadn’t picked up on it, this little show was all for him.”
You shake your head, still not believing it. This is a joke, a dream, some kind of fetish you’d been roped into, but would leave in the morning and try to forget as soon as possible.
“Are we keeping her?”
“You know we are.”
Their words strike fear into you. Keep you?
“I’m not a dog.” You manage the words slowly.
“Of course you’re not. We wouldn’t fuck a dog.” He chuckles at his own joke.
“Russell…” Helen admonishes him. “Be nice.”
“Fine…” he sighs, and reaches out to grab the base of the dildo. He gently moves it side to side slightly, resting his other hand on your thigh when it twitches. Compared to Helen, his touch is surprisingly light. You whimper. “Oh? Where’d all those lovely moans go to?”
“Yes, where did they?” She looms down at you.
“You said…”
“From me,” she cuts you off, brow creasing before she turned back to him. “I actually got you a little something extra.”
“Oh?”
“In the drawer.”
He moves to the bedside table, and finds a box in the drawer. He unwraps it, breath stilling as he sees what’s inside.
“And this is… mine?”
“Completely yours. To use whenever you want.”
“Thank you.” He turns back and kisses her. You watch, unable to look away as he worships her, still unable to comprehend what kind of dynamic you’ve been ensnared in. “I might just use it now.”
“Go on. You don’t have to ask permission.”
She watches him as he smiles, tossing the box aside, holding something in his hand as he returns between your legs, pushing them wider as he takes the dildo and pulls it out of you.
The sensation makes you shudder against their grips, fresh tears spilling forth as he rubs your thigh in a way that should be soothing, before a ring of soft silicone presses against your clit, and he turns the clit sucker on.
You don’t remember the first night from there on out. The next morning, you woke in Russell’s arms, and he assured you that once you’d passed out, they’d stopped and cleaned you all up; but you weren’t leaving either. Helen had already gone and brought all of your stuff over, and it wasn’t like you had anything to go back to anyway, was it?
Something about the way he said it bothered you, but it was months before you brought it back up to him.
You took a chance when he was bathing you after another intense night, one of the few times he and you had been left alone together.
“You guys really got lucky with a chance meeting.” You mumble, watching the water trickle down your knees.
“Hmm?” Russell smiles at you as he rinses the wash cloth in the water.
“For a chance meeting…” you repeat, “you two got lucky.”
“Oh…” he continues to smile as his hands fall still, forearms resting on the side of the bathtub, cloth trailing down into the warm water. “There’s no such thing.”
“What?”
“It was never down to chance.” He starts moving again, soaking the cloth before his hand dips below the water and picks up yours, raising your arm from the water so he could wash you. “I picked you out ages before that. I knew you were the one, when you told that guy where he could shove his dick.”
“He…” you stutter, staring at his face. That had been months, no, over a year ago. A guy you’d reluctantly agreed to go for a drink with had been way too pushy, too forward, and you’d had enough of him, so dumped his drink in his lap and told him to leave, so you could finish yours in peace. You couldn’t even remember his name.
“Yeah… you made a good first impression.” He starts cleaning your other arm, going gently over the bruises Helen had left. “Then, we started to research, to learn everything we could about you. Where you lived, worked, your family, friends…”
“You… followed me?”
“Mostly me, yeah. Helen didn’t want to risk you recognising her from somewhere.” He wrings the cloth out again. “Then we starter prodding, poking areas of your life to see what we could make happen, what we could make fall apart.”
“You…” That’s how your life had gone to shit in a week. Someone had done it deliberately. “You did that to me?”
“Hey… hey, shh…” he hushes you as your voice cracks. “Don’t over exert yourself. We had to make sure your first meeting with Helen was perfect.”
“By making me desperate for anything good?”
“Yeah, basically.” He shifts closer to you on his knees so he could wash your shoulders. “And haven’t we been? Good?”
You swallow, not trusting yourself to answer. He’s caught you off guard, having this conversation while you were tired. You can’t form all of the words you want to say. How they’d targeted you, circled you like prey, then ensnared you, without you being any the wiser.
“And…” he pokes your cheek, making you look up at him again. “I’m telling you all of this so that you know if you ever try and get away from us, we would be able to have you back here within the week… and then, Helen might finally allow me to be a little less nice to you.”
He’s gripping your shoulder too tightly. Your skin is still sensitive, and you whimper.
He lets you go before your skin bruises, glancing over his shoulder as he hears Helen’s footsteps come down the landing.
“So, now you know… and this best stay between just us, alright?”
He doesn’t wait for your response, leaning up to kiss your forehead just as Helen appears in the door, folded clothes in hand.
“You two having fun?” She runs her fingers through Adler’s hair as she leans on him while bending down to kiss you.
“Of course.” Russell ensures she doesn’t fall, flashing a smile at you. “So much fun, aren’t we darling?”
You nod slowly. The heat of the bath is finally getting to you.
“Awww… look at you.” Helen coos, patting your cheek. “Ready for bed, I think.”
“If you say so.” Russell brushes her back, standing as he lifts you out of the water. Park watches as you stand on trembling legs, before Adler wraps you in a towel and steadies you.
“Pyjamas are on the radiator. I’ll go get the bed warm.”
“You do that.” Russell kisses her on her way out. Her perfume lingers from where she leans past you to do it, and Adler’s hands tighten on your shoulders as she leaves.
“Perfect, isn’t she?” He sighs after her, as he begins to dry you with the towel. “I’m going to have to come up with an awesome present for her birthday.”
“Huh?” You blink slowly, half asleep on your feet, as he tugs the silk shirt and shorts Park bought for you on.
“Well… as thanks for you.” He wraps your hair in the towel and guides you to sit down as he dries it. “Got a hell of a bar to step over with you, haven’t I?”
“That night was…”
“My birthday, you remember. Forty-six. Best one yet.” His fingers rub the back of your neck as he dries your hair. “I can’t wait for the next one.”
