Bunny hands up.
Me realizing it's race week & there's only 2 races left this year:
Also me remembering it's race week:
Bonus, me remembering we only have two races left with Kimi:
“So, you like a man in uniform?”
Russell Adler x Male!Bell!Reader
Turns out Adler has a thing for men in uniforms.
Oh, and he’s a bottom.
Set post game, so Spoilers for COD: Cold War.
Mentions of past torture and brainwashing.
The safehouse was… too quiet. Hudson had cleared out yesterday, Mason and Woods in tow, Park following them shortly afterwards. Sims was nowhere to be found after the interrogation, leaving just you and…
“Bell. I’ll give you a lift back.”
You looked up from your work, Adler standing by the garage door.
It was the first time he’d spoken to you in three days.
“Oh, no thanks. I’m okay. I’ll stay here.” Your attention returned to the file, scanning down the list of names, trying to ignore him again.
“The hell you are-” He walked towards the work bench, catching himself a few steps short of standing behind you. “You haven’t slept since we got back from Solovetsky. You need rest, Bell. Come on.”
You sighed, the file closing with an unsatisfyingly soft snap.
He was right - again. You’d sustained yourself almost wholly on coffee since you’d gotten back, and it was catching up to you. A night’s sleep in an actual bed in a hotel with actual heating sounded a lot nicer than dragging yourself to one of the cots in the back room - if you could even make it that far. If he really left you alone, you’d pass out right there on your desk.
A decent night’s sleep would do you good. You hadn’t had one since before Cuba.
Adler drove, letting you relax in the passenger seat, half listening to the music you’d picked at random from the mix of cassette tapes in the glove compartment. The drive into Berlin was a long one, as Lazar had frequently bemoaned whenever he’d gone into the city for takeout. The distance had never really bothered you, as you rarely made the trip; and now… you would’ve sworn it was a longer drive, if you were able to confidently say you hadn’t dozed off a couple of times during it.
The second time you had to recollect your drifting thoughts, you realised you were already in the outskirts of the city, Adler gripping the steering wheel as he turned the car along the narrow streets. He glanced at you, seemingly aware you were watching him.
“Something up, Bell?”
“No. Just thinking.”
He hummed, looking away from you as he turned a corner.
You could only see him in the moments before you passed the streetlights, his hair glimmering in the light, reflecting off his sunglasses - how does he still wear those things at night? - his scar contrasting sharper against his skin with the shadows…
Goddamn, he was attractive.
You shook your head. You couldn’t, shouldn’t, he was your CO -
He was the man who captured you, tortured you, erased your identity; destroying everything your previous life had stood for, leaving you with nowhere to go, no one to go to but him.
Everything was telling you that you should be angry. He said it himself- you probably hate him - but… it just wasn’t in you. You couldn’t get angry. You could only do… tired and washed out. If anything, you were…
Relieved. Everything made sense now. The dreams, the constantly changing medications, why everyone seemed to always be watching you out of the corner of their eyes. Besides, it appears what Adler and Park had done, whatever it was, was undoing itself.
Your memories were coming back to you, slowly, and in bits and pieces, but… you had enough to know that you were a different person now.
You were a better person now, one who wasn’t willing to kill countless people. The more you’d reflected on it over the past few days…
This was who you’d always been. Somewhere, buried, deep inside of you, because you couldn’t be that person in your… old life. You hadn’t changed fundamentally as a person. The different memories just meant that… it was expressed differently. And you weren’t going to give that up now.
Your memories were all they had changed about you. You were still the same person, under it all.
You’d found Adler attractive then, and still now.
Hell, all that thinking about things, and you still weren’t even sure if he liked men.
Let alone, you.
You looked back out of the windshield, gazing around at the buildings, resting on the name of the hotel you stopped next to, one that wasn’t yours.
“Adler?” You asked, after a few minutes without either of you moving.
He inhaled, one hand gripping the steering wheel, the other resting on his knee, fingers twitching like he was missing a cigarette.
He’s nervous. Your head tilted to one side. What the hell was going on that could make Russell fucking Adler… nervous?
“You know Bell… back in Moscow… you looked good in that uniform.”
You could barely process what you’d just heard - What the fuck had you just heard!?
Adler shifted, looking away from you, taking a deep breath as he steeled himself for your response.
You shook your head slightly, brushing the deluging thoughts aside, reaching out to catch his chin in your fingers, turning his head towards you.
“You like a man in uniform?”
“You… what?” He was surprised, you’d caught him off guard. Clearly, he hadn’t thought you’d respond, let alone positively.
“Do you like a man in uniform?” You repeated, watching for his response as your thumb brushed over his chin.
“… yeah.” He admitted, letting his head sink into your grip. The soft light from outside diffusing across his glasses at just the right angle to allow you to see his eyes, fixed downwards as you spoke.
“You want to see me in american dress blues-”
Adler shivered, you felt it as it travelled through his body, racing up his spine into the hand cupping his chin. “Fuck Bell, don’t put the thought in my head.”
“Why not?” You asked, innocent enough as you pulled him closer.
“Because I don’t know if I can resist it.” He whispered.
“Who says you have to?”
His eyes lit up behind his glasses, finally meeting yours. “My room?”
“Course. Let’s go.”
You both exited the car, Adler glancing over his shoulder at you to make sure you were still following him, that this was really happening. You followed, thoughts racing again - fuck, what else was he hiding from you, how else was he going to surprise you this evening? You made him nervous, how long had he been wanting to say this, why not sooner-
He opened the door to the room, quickly crossing the carpeted floor to draw the blinds down over the window. He removed his sunglasses, carelessly tossing them aside, disappearing somewhere on the floor as he walked back to you, gripping your jacket collar, and he was kissing you. You could feel him as you gripped his hips, pulling his body up against yours. He was already hard, probably had been since you’d left the car.
Your hand cupped his chin again, taking control of the kiss, sliding down his neck, over his thin shirt, fingers tapping along his belt, before cupping him through the thick denim of his jeans.
“Fuck…” he groaned, his arms around the back of your neck, your arms holding him up as you turned him, pushing him back against the wall. He whined- he fucking whined - trying to hook one of his legs over your waist.
You caught it by his thigh, gently pressing his hips against the wall. His head fell back, the eyes that met yours wide; full of what could only be called lust.
“Needy, aren’t you?” You ran a thumb over his bottom lip, actually accepting that Russell goddamn Adler was here, in front of you, all but begging you to fuck him.
Not that you’d ever thought about it in much depth - of course you had - you’d assumed he would be a top, dominant, in control.
“Yes, I am, I get it. Just… fuck me, Bell, please.”
Maybe he was too like that in his everyday life; wants a break from it, for someone - for you - to fuck his brains out.
Hell, you weren’t complaining.
You indulged his touches, allowing his hands to roam across your body, pressing at your clothed skin; letting his curiosity exhaust itself before taking control of his hands, pinning them to the wall, making sure he understood you when you let them fall back to his sides. His jacket, shirt fell to the floor, your hands mirroring the path his had taken as you worked your touches down his body, the muscles under his bare skin tensing at your touch.
His breath stuttered as you leaned towards his neck, pushing into the space made as his head tilted back against the wall, a frustrated noise leaving his lips as yours hovered, a hair’s breadth away from his skin. You saw him swallow, your breath rushing over his skin once more before you graced it with your lips.
He inhaled, you could only imagine how his face looked- were his eyes closed, open; his mouth must have been, as you could hear the sharp intake of his breath; his jaw tensing, meaning he was gritting his teeth as your lips moved across his skin.
You pulled back from his neck, seeing his eyes open slowly, silently pleading. You would have happily kept him against the wall, teasing him to see how far he would go; how desperately he could beg, how high could his whines get; if you weren’t having to fight your own arousal, already heavy, trying to force its fucking need into the front of your mind.
You nodded over your shoulder. “On your knees, on the bed.”
You released Russell from the wall, standing back as he hurried to follow your orders, the remainder of his and your clothes strewn on the floor as you joined him on the bed. One hand rested on the back of his head, fingers tangling themselves in the soft curls of hair, pushing his face down into the sheets and holding him there. The other was stroking down his spine, brushing over the small of his back as he shivered, his hips pressing into your hand as you grazed the knuckle of your finger over his hole.
You had no form of lube, so spit would have to do, Adler moaning beneath you as you slid a finger into him. His back arched as your hand moved, his knuckles turning white from gripping the sheets, gasping as he clenched around your fingers when they found that special little bundle of nerves inside of him.
“Fuck, christ, please, please…” He groaned out your name, your real name, your motion stalling as the sound of his wracked voice - begging for you - reached your ears.
Your blood ran hot in your veins, you couldn’t wait any longer- fuck whether or not he was fully ready, your fingers came out, lining your cock up before you were sliding into him. He was tight, forcing you to be slow, your breaths slowly evening to match your thrusts as you wrestled your self control, feeling each of Adler’s moans roll up through your body, each thrust taking you further inside of him - and then, your hips were flush against him.
Your body folded down over the top of his, keeping yourself fully seated inside of him as your nose pressed into his hair, inhaling his smell - smoke, nicotine, some bullshit expensive cologne - your skin sliding over his as your head moved down so your lips could find his neck.
“You’re doing so well… Come on, keep still a moment longer.”
He whimpered beneath you, his hips stilling from his attempts to buck against you, your hand back, firm, on his hip, praise still falling from your lips as you grew accustomed to the fucking glorious feeling of having him tight and pulsing around your cock.
With your next inhale, you forced yourself back up, peeling yourself away from his back. One hand still rooted in his hair pulled his head up with you, forcing him to relinquish the sheets to lean on his elbows, head hanging low again as you released it, needing both hands free to grip his hips.
“You ready, Russ?”
“God, fuck yes-” He screamed your name as you started moving.
Your breaths became shallow, air expelling from your nose between the groans that slipped free from your mouth as you relaxed into the motions, moving harder, faster.
The way Adler was clenching around you, you wouldn’t last long; every beg to let him come made you twitch inside of him.
You released his hips, Adler bucking up into your thrusts, voice pleading as you pressed yourself against his back again, one hand supporting your weight over him, the other trailing around this hip bone, down across his naval, wrapping your hand around the base of his twitching cock.
“You wanna come, Russ?”
“Yes, fuck… you know I do, you-” He dropped out from under you, elbows giving out as his face hit the sheets again, leaving your arm bent an awkward angle to get under him, but you could not bring yourself to care at this point.
You were close, vision becoming fogged, but he was closer. His dick was twitching in your hand as you stroked him, pushed further towards his end with each motion of your hand, feeling the muscles in his thighs twitch as you brushed past them, nails softly tracing over the veins, and there he was, his scream muffled as he buried his face him the bedsheets, his cum dripping from your fingers.
You barely had time to enjoy him coming undone underneath you, your release torn out of you by how he clenched your cock inside of him, stealing the breath from your lungs, your head falling forward into his shoulders, eyes drifting closed.
You pulled your head up like you’d been drowning, letting your breaths even, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into Adler’s skin as you slowly pulled out of him, rolling onto your side. He lay to face you as your eyes swept over his body, taking the damage in.
There were bruises forming where your fingertips had dug into his skin; his hair was pointing in seven different directions - completely fucking ruined - his eyes meeting yours, the lust utterly fucked out of them.
He reached out, pulling himself closer to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You tucked your arms around his shoulders, thumb rubbing over his skin.
Fuck. This was going to change… everything.
And some treats are better than tricks
The subconscious is desperate to fill the hole, to compensate what you have a need of... This is what I’ve been doing for half my life, it seems... All these never-ending dreams, haunting fantasies and attempts to grab hold... of something, someone... Having a family/soulmates to talk to but being emotionally lonely, broken. Over and over again.
The name's Plissken.
Antlers, Scott Cooper (2021).
id love to write some analytical stuff about pokemon characters but i worry that my canon facts would get mixed up with my headcanons ^^;;
where is nilly i need her to respond to my human pokemon characters post and tell everyone why she loves blue and lusamine
Back to the start!!!
A giant Welshman and his small Scottish work husband.
Y’all I’m literally in love with Carmen and Sandy, they’re so pretty I—