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djloveyou3000 · 3 days ago

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Belladonna

Chapter seven

Gradually, their breathing slowed, and their eyes fluttered shut. At first, there was darkness—a comforting, empty void. Then, a soft breeze stirred around them, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers and fresh grass.

Bell opened their eyes and blinked, momentarily disoriented by the bright sky above them. They sat up, rubbing their eyes, only to freeze when they noticed their hands. They were small—child-sized. Slowly, Bell looked down at their body and gasped. Their arms, legs, and clothes were all that of a six-year-old child.

“What the…” their voice trailed off as they caught the high-pitched tone coming from their mouth. It was unmistakably the voice of a young child. Confusion flooded their senses as they scrambled to their feet. Clutched tightly in their hands was a Hello Kitty plush, its soft fabric worn but familiar.

Panicked, Bell ran to the nearby lake. As they leaned over the water’s edge, they saw their reflection—a wide-eyed six-year-old with soft, rounded features and messy hair. “This can’t be real,” they whispered, clutching the plush to their chest like a lifeline.

Spinning around, they spotted a house in the distance. It looked vaguely familiar, though something about it seemed… off. They hurried toward it, their small legs carrying them through the tall grass. As they reached the front porch, Bell hesitated. “Hello? Is anyone home?” they called, their little voice trembling.

The door creaked open on its own, and Bell stepped inside cautiously. The house smelled faintly of vanilla and something floral, like perfume. It was comforting in an eerie way. However, as they looked around, their unease grew. Objects in the room seemed to glitch, flickering between sharp focus and a blurred haze.

“What the hell is going on?” Bell muttered under their breath, their tiny hands clutching the plush tighter.

They moved deeper into the house, their bare feet padding against the wooden floor. As they entered the living room, their foot caught on a rug, and they tripped. The plush flew out of their hands, landing several feet away. Scrambling to retrieve it, Bell froze when they saw the plush was gone.

“No, no, no,” they whispered, their heart racing. Tears welled in their eyes, and they clenched their fists, wiping angrily at their cheeks. “Why am I crying? I’m grown! I shouldn’t be upset over a stupid toy.” But no matter how much they scolded themselves, the tears continued.

Before their panic could spiral further, a soft tap on their arm startled them. Bell turned and gasped. The Hello Kitty plush stood upright, its tiny stuffed limbs waving at them.

“What in the actual—” Bell began, but the plush raised a paw to their mouth, shushing them. It shook its head firmly, as if scolding Bell for their language. Bell stared, too stunned to move, as the plush pointed toward the living room.

Swallowing hard, Bell followed, their legs shaking. The plush led them to a tall mirror. Bell hesitated before stepping in front of it, staring at their reflection. The child staring back looked hesitant and fragile, clutching the edge of their shirt.

The plush tapped their temple gently, then pointed to a picture frame on a nearby table. Bell picked it up with trembling hands. The photo showed them as a child, clutching the same plush, flanked by a boy and a girl, with two adults standing behind them. But everyone’s faces were blurred, their identities hidden. Bell’s heart ached as they stared at the photo, a strange mix of familiarity and alienation washing over them.

The plush leapt off Bell’s shoulder and scurried toward a small door. Bell followed, crouching to crawl through the opening. On the other side, they found themselves outside again, lying on the grass.

Groaning, Bell sat up, disoriented. “What is happening?” they muttered. The plush waved at them from a distance, motioning for them to follow.

A soft tap on their arm drew their attention. The plush was standing there, waving at them once more. It turned and began running toward the house again.

“Why do you keep running?” Bell yelled, their small legs working overtime to keep up. “Wait up!”

The plush ran inside the house, and Bell followed, stumbling slightly as they entered. This time, the living room was different. Two children sat on the floor playing with toys, while two adults sat on the couch, watching over them. But everything was frozen, and all their faces were blurred, just like in the photo.

Bell stopped in their tracks, their breath hitching. A deep sense of familiarity washed over them, but it was laced with confusion and pain.

“Who… who are they?” Bell whispered, their small voice trembling. Their heart ached as if it knew something their mind couldn’t grasp.

The plush climbed onto Bell’s shoulder again, softly nuzzling their cheek and wiping away the tears that had started to fall. Bell hugged it tightly, burying their face in its soft fabric. For the first time since this strange journey began, they felt safe.

After a while, the plush jumped down and handed Bell a tissue. Bell laughed softly through their tears and wiped their face, then followed the plush to the kitchen. It pointed at the trash can, and Bell giggled as they threw the tissue away.

Then the plush jumped down and motioned for Bell to follow again the smell of fresh-baked sweets filled the air. Bell hesitated, but the sight of a tray of pastries was too tempting to resist. They took a bite of a small cake, and the taste was incredible—warm, familiar, and so comforting it made Bell tear up again.

“This… it tastes like home,” Bell whispered, taking another bite. Yet it was confusing—something about it also felt strange and distant.

As Bell savored the sweets, the plush bolted toward a small door at the far end of the kitchen. Bell’s mouth was still full when they noticed. “Hey! Wait up!” they mumbled, sliding toward the door.

But before they could finish, the plush bolted toward the small door again.

“Not again,” Bell groaned, stuffing the rest of the sweet into their mouth as they hurried after it. Crawling through the door, they found themselves outside once more.

With a resigned sigh, Bell got to their feet and trudged after it. This time, the plush led them away from the house, toward a small village in the distance. As they entered the village, Bell noticed that everything was still—eerily so. People stood frozen in place, their faces blurred like in the photo.

Bell wandered the streets, their unease growing with each step. Suddenly, the peaceful scene flickered, and the village transformed. Buildings were charred, smoke filled the air, and bodies littered the streets. The acrid scent of blood and ash overwhelmed Bell as they froze in place, staring at the horrific sight.

Just as quickly as it appeared, the scene reverted to normal. Bell stumbled back, clutching their chest. Their breathing was ragged, and they felt tears streaming down their face.

The plush climbed onto Bell’s shoulder, nuzzling their cheek in comfort. Bell reached up and touched it gently, finding its presence oddly reassuring despite everything. “What… is this place?” they whispered, their voice trembling.

The sky above began to shift, transitioning rapidly from day to night, as if days were passing in seconds. Bell followed the plush, walking through the changing landscape until the village disappeared from view.

In the distance, Bell spotted a group of soldiers gathered around a campfire. Their hearts sank as they recognized one of the men—Arash. Fury bubbled within them as they clenched their small fists.

Suddenly, they felt eyes on them. Turning slowly, they locked eyes with a young Perseus. His gaze was sharp, piercing, and full of curiosity. Bell gasped, stumbling back—

And then they woke up.

Bell shot upright on the couch, their chest heaving as they struggled to calm their racing heart. The room spun for a moment before they registered their surroundings.

“Bell?” Russell’s deep voice was close, his hand warm on their face. His aviators were gone, and his eyes were filled with concern and quiet intensity. “Are you okay?”

Bell looked at him, still disoriented. His gaze held an unspoken demand, a silent insistence that Bell tell him everything.

The clock on the wall showed that two hours had passed. Doctor Leslie smiled gently as she handed Bell their Hello Kitty necklace. “You did great today. That’s enough for now. Go home and rest.”

Bell clutched the necklace tightly, their mind racing with questions. “What… was that?” they murmured, the vivid images of the dream still fresh in their mind. As they glanced at Russell’s dark expectant expression, they knew one thing for certain—he wouldn’t stop until he had answers.

#russell adler #call of duty #russell adler x reader #russell adler x bell #cod #black ops cold war #bell #Adler #adler x bell #adlerbell #yandere russell adler

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animefreak1145 · 9 hours ago

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My emotions through this fic. Crying, screaming, throwing up—oh Bell is having fun with two men—than crying again because they’re both so mean. 😭😭😭

pinprick {request}

adler x bell!reader x felix

request: for @reirats70, who asked for adler x bell!reader x felix !!

tags: nsfw mention, mdni, bell!reader, gn!reader (but the word 'pretty' is used to describe them), established adlerbell, mk ultra/separation mention, kissing, oral, author has never written felix before and is super nervous, adler is a little too happy for a man who should be in jail wc: 1.5k

a/n: slowly working through requests but this one was too exciting to pass up!! still a little hesitant to post full blown nsfw (when it isn't exclusively adlerbell at least) so i hope the lil spice included is okay :) this is my first time writing felix as well and i hope it satisfies!! thank you for the request <3

“It is quite interesting,” Felix muses to himself, almost as though you weren’t even there, held tight in his grasp and flitting restlessly like a moth in a mason jar. The latex-gloved hand that holds your face turns you back to face the light, where his eyes pierce yours again. “The way it seems to have left a scar in the iris. Pinprick. Almost imperceptible.”

Off to the side where even your periphery can’t quite catch, Adler sucks on a cigarette, leaning back against the cart table sat in the centre of the ops room; his presence lingers inauspiciously, as unavoidable as the smoke that billows in the air, huffed out in a plume of laughter from his unsmiling mouth.

“Yeah, well, with pretty eyes like Bell’s, you notice.”

The comment shouldn’t make your heart stir or your stomach flutter as pathetically as it does, but much like it always has, your body responds to Adler’s words in a way your mind detests to admit; he’s never been one for the most direct compliments, but the fact that this one isn’t even said to you somehow makes it all the more rousing to hear- like a dirty secret caught round an open doorway. As you attempt to turn your head to try and look at him, Felix interjects, a squeeze tighter around your flushed face.

“Very pretty. So, it was necessary to inject the compound straight into the eye?”

Suddenly the topic of conversation comes back into focus, the very reason for you being in your rather compromised position. With Harrow sequestered off in the other wing of the Rook bound to a chair, Adler had suggested to Marshall the use of Separation to help ease the process- or complicate it, you’d mumbled curtly- and had begun all misty-eyed to wax poetic about the night he’d used it on you, strapped to that gurney after Cuba. It’s a sickening topic to be caught in the middle of, left all the more a bitter taste in your mouth since Adler had made an unspoken vow never to bring up MK Ultra again. But in Felix’s piqued curiosity of the compound- be it vanity or a genuine willingness to pass knowledge along, Adler had offered to teach him how to make it, use it, how it worked. You want to scoff at him, as though he knew anything about the technical intricacies of the drug- though it isn’t as if he was about to drag Park back out of the desert just to give a more comprehensive lecture.

And for some reason, here you were, not quite the lab rat you were a decade ago but feeling painstakingly close to it, gaping up at Felix as his gaze runs you over like a man starved. Of what, you can’t possibly imagine. Hasn’t he had his fill of you enough these past weeks? Haven’t they both?

Adler’s voice pulls you back to the present, bookended by the faint chiming in the back of your mind. Ding.

“To get the desired results, yes,” Adler explains, barely regarding you with anything more than impartiality as he steps over next to Felix, studying you with similarly clinical indifference. “But I think this time just a shot to the neck should be enough. Harrow’s tough, but only ‘cause I taught her how to be. Trust me, the Achilles heel is there, she’ll crack easy.”

“Oh? And Bell was…?”

Adler smirks, and when he dips his head to peer at you over his aviators he actually looks at you, regarding you, not like the poked and prodded subject you’ve been for the last ten minutes, seemingly made of glass with the way their focus seemed to land through you entirely. A soft laugh leaves him- a rarity you cherish since he’s softened in his age- and he pinches your cheek, right above where Felix’s thumb secures a firm grip.

“Oh, Bell was a real tough nut to crack. We were there for hours. Stubborn thing, aren’t you?”

All you can really do is stare- you can barely open your mouth to talk, Felix’s hand squashing your face like a doll’s- but you suppose the question is a rhetorical one anyway, leaving Adler to bask in his smug superiority.

Felix chuckles, though his eyes don’t quite meet yours yet the way Adler’s does, instead now roving your face, the features made pink and prickled warm by the overwhelming attention from both men.

It’s a strange thing- you aren’t typically so flustered, certainly not around Adler, used to his bizarre attempts at affection, but Felix in particular had a way of making you feel special in the oddest ways. He’s direct, and that in contrast to Adler’s myriad riddles of non-answers and emotions shadowed over by impenetrable aviators made for… an interesting combination. Adler hadn’t changed much over the decade- a little softer around the edges, both in looks and temperament, but the sharp and jagged corners of your relationship still remains even with the mutable tenderness of passing time, not quite healing wounds so much as smacking a band-aid over the hole he’d nearly put in your head. That being said, you still ran circles around each other the same way you did back in Berlin, ever caught in the endless cat-and-mouse. Still fighting, still kissing, still not quite making up, then doing it all over again.

But Felix was to the point. There was rarely any guessing as to how he felt in your presence. Terse when impatient, rigid when agitated, but sweet and heartfelt, with a certain compassion that surprised you. His affection came easy, unbidden- a little shy at times, but he wore his heart on his sleeve, and admiration on his face clearly enough that Adler had eventually caught on. And where you’d feared that Adler would only increase his vigilance, tighten his grip on your leash, and usher his bird back into their gilded cage, rather, he was unexpectedly content to let Felix indulge his affections for you, to the point that now you felt… shared, almost.

An odd thing indeed.

If you could recall how it started, it was subtle and slow, very nearly unnoticeable. A graze of the knuckles here, a helping hand staying just a moment too long there. Adler sending you on fetch quests for the ex-Stasi, then turning to abscond with him in another room and vanish. Inklings of hushed conversations shared between them across the room, their eyes pointed to you with wry, bitten smiles. It was like having a pretty secret dangled right in front of your nose, but just so very barely out of reach that it was nigh insufferable.

Maddening, until those subtle scrapes turned to shared touches, Adler showing you off like a prize pony to Felix who’d all but watch in awe. You’d always been something akin to Adler’s reluctant pet, even back in the old days. You could never imagine how quickly you’d reassume the role, even after the years had whittled the effectiveness of your trigger phrase to nothing but empty words he’d occasionally use to mock you. As if you’d need it to do as he pleases. As if you’d need an incentive at all when the starry glint in Felix’s eyes is reward enough.

And it’s always been hard to keep up with Adler; with them both, it takes herculean effort to so much as keep your head straight. It’s one thing to have them dote attention upon you as they do now, and another thing entirely to find yourself one night in the kitchen as the whole house slept, held with your back to Adler’s chest in a vice grip, his tongue in your mouth, while Felix’s worked in near reverent devotion between your legs like a man starved. Your whimpers silenced only by the way they’d swap to take turns quicker than you could let go of the breath you’d been holding, keening over and relinquishing your hands to slide into blond tresses once more. With blind pleasure hewing your focus to a pinprick, it’d get harder to distinguish who was who, only able to discern the distinct pinching of latex gloves into the plush of your ass, or the scrape of pitted sandpaper scars along the inside of your thigh. A crazed thing, did it not excite you so much.

You blink back to the present moment when you feel the light, patronising smack of Felix’s hand against your cheek, pale blue latex nipping soft skin. He’s smiling, eyes bright with amusement, and in your daze you must have missed something, because you catch Adler’s smirk off to the side, remnants of a laugh that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Felix muses.

“Enough chatter. Let’s see what we can do to help Adler with this Separation, hm?”

And before you can so much as attempt to blurt a response he squeezes your face again, puckering your mouth, and plants a chaste- if not teasing- kiss upon your lips.

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