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animefreak1145 · 2 months

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Church Bells(Adler x Bell!Reader xWoods)

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Sixth Intel | Watch

Description:

The world ended for Bell after Cuba.

The whole world followed soon after.

Zombies AU | Drabble Format

Warnings/Tags: Mature Rating, Graphic Violence, Dark Themes, Trauma, Body Horror, Gore, Major Character Death, Brainwashing, Post!Cuba, Pre!Solovetsky, No Solovetsky, Female Bell, Older Man/Younger Woman

Words: 1.6k

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You were observing for days.

Picking apart the papers, the plans, the tools they have at their disposal with Sims. Hawkish tired baggy eyes, always seeming to stray at the itch of your skin that is getting irritated from your nails than anything else. No other outside source. (Nightmare.)

It was hard for the others to cajole you out the cage you built around you, the storage room with the arcade game you used to play with but now is stock still.

Dead. A waste of energy.

(Why are you here again? Ah. Solovetsky. Always about going to Solovetsky. That’s all they need of you. They aren’t your friends. He’s not your friend.)

You even locked yourself in. To keep them out. To keep you in. Concentration. Watching. Planning. Eying.

You had a fire to your ass and this time it wasn’t Adler that caused it, (his hands around your jaw or your throat, squeezing your cheeks together unforgivingly or pressing down warningly to your carotid and air supply, Bell, open the door. He said good work. ) but instead it was your head, your thoughts, the feeling of blood pumping to your ears and grim determination clenching your jaw and hands around the pens and pencils and office supplies you have hoarded in this cage you made yourself.

You ignored how Woods cursed at you and your behavior, but your eyes couldn’t help but study his deep blue. The ocean normally with its high tides to make up for the hurricane of a man, only for it to be swimming in concern and worry on what is causing this frantic episode of yours.

The tornado of a man cursed at you with no intent, looking haggard with tired shoulders as if he was there in the cage with you. Only for them to tense when Adler, who is ice and cool and hard to read and what is that look in his eyes when he stares past your cage and into your face, tells Woods to leave you be, to let you plan the finishing touches needed for the cell tower and you will come out when you decide to.

“Stop babying her.”

“Wha—you conniving fucker,” the hurricane spat at the arctic breeze, dangerous and unbelieving wild grin upon his face. “You ordered her to do this. You think I’m going to let you dig around your dirty shitty claws around her brain again? You used the trigger phrase, didn’t you? Didn’t you?!”

(You talked to Woods once, that the trigger would still probably work. The lot of you have no time to deprogram a terrorist. You were concerned, worrying your lip and how easy it would be to become a mindless puppet again. Frank, all grim faced, only tugged you to him with your eyes widening as you met the gear covered chest. Safe . Secure . The immovable mountain and the chaotic hurricane turned firm like a rooted tree that shall never bend. Can you make a home here in these roots? Is he letting you? And a rumble to your ear “You don’t have to worry your pretty little head about that. No one will say that sentence again. Until we get you back to Washington and we’ll fix you up, you’ll be able to say the words yourself as easy as you can decode.”)

Face to face.

The storm and ice.

And, despite you wanting to see Frank punch the ever living lights out of Adler again, you stepped out the cage and intervened with a gentle yet firm hand to Woods shoulder before Mason or Sims could, back to Adler who you can feel his eyes on you.

When he glanced down in bewilderment, he met your grateful little smile playing on your lips and a shake of your head.

“It’s okay. He didn’t do any of that. I wanted to.” Woods didn’t seem to believe you, and your hand wandered from his shoulder to his wrist to do a squeeze of his hand. Woods blinked, eyes on the hold before meeting your somber ones. “We need this plan. Adler is right on the importance of this. We need that cell tower. Him and I gotta do this right with all of you. To plan with all of you. ”

Woods face began to sour right when you mentioned Adler. Glancing up to where Adler was only to sour more.

He tugged his hand away and turned his back on you. You tried to not let it affect you. (He always touches you and accepts yours like you accept his. He’s not distant.)

“Yeah, yeah. I got it. Just don’t…” his tone lost his gumption when he turned his face back towards you. You can spot his swallow before he waved a hand flippantly, (not the hand you touched. The hand you touched is tucked in his jacket pocket. Like a secret.) before he made a dramatic puff of air out his mouth. “Just don’t fall over dead or electrocute your brain over there.”

The joke fell flat, your brows pinched in concern and your back still itched with eyes on you.

You turned, almost missing the smug smirk Adler had around his cigarette but not missing his upturned brow when he looked at you.

He dipped his head in a semblance of a nod, nicotine smoke around them both as he breathed, “Don’t let him keep treating you like glass. You’re not made of it.”

And off he went, whisking away to his corner of the safehouse.

Your jaw clenched when his scent and presence left you, irritation building at the pretense(How would he know how you wanted to be treated? He doesn’t know you. You used to lick up those small nods as if they were ambrosia, his pride towards you like nectar. He broke you. He can’t tell you what to do.) before you went back to your cage.

Later, after your three day planning confinement, with you and Park atop a nearby building of the cell tower to study the zombie horde and the strange crystals that keep appearing like never ending amethysts, you were questioned by the MI6 agent.

Or what may be left of the MI6.

“Is Woods a wise choice, Bell?”

The question came from left field(Woods taught you that saying) and it made you take off your binoculars, your face twisted into deep befuddlement.

“What?”

Park’s face didn’t change, it was the expression where she expected no nonsense. Her attention on you and not the sniper rifle who has an impressive scope and what she should be using to watch.

“Don’t play the oblivious card, Bell. It doesn’t suit you.”

You were starting to get annoyed at the non answers. (You hate non answers. Hums that don’t mean anything or everything. You’re sick of it.)

“What are you talking about?”

Park huffed.

“This dance you’re doing with Woods. Is it genuine? Or are you trying to get back at Adler?”

Your eyes flashed, your grip on your binoculars tightening.

That’s all it goes back to. Your genuineness.

(Stop lying, Bell. Start again and tell me how you met Perseus.)

“Frank and I are genuinely friends. Just like me and Mason are.” Park’s brows pinched together and you really want to shout at her but you stick with a hissed “What?” instead.

“You’re getting that look in your eyes when you look at Woods. And don’t think we can’t all see how touchy you two are with each other. Especially with what happened earlier.” (You touched Woods hand, yours were gloved. But you still felt it. How warm he can be. The curious inquisitive side of you wanted to know what would happen if your hand was bare, what would the valley of his knuckles feel like? Would it match the mountain of a man?) “Woods is…” Park cleared her throat. “Woods is showing deep care for you. But the last thing we need is something to split the team apart. So. Is it genuine?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, looking through the binoculars again to dismiss her.

“Didn’t you say to give a certain man a wide berth?”

“And I’m glad for you for it. But Bell,” a hand moved stops yours, shifting the binoculars down and you were met with concerned gray eyes, a soft voice. “. . .Adler is the type of man who has a hard time giving over control. Can you honestly say you won’t fall upon his hands again if he asked?”

“Adler,” you spat, fury and rage and vindictive and hot on your chest. It made Park’s eyes widen, which made you blink and deflate and appear like the kicked bunny that you are instead of what you were before. “. . . I know what kind of man Adler is. But. . . Woods is. . . Frank is. . . ” You clenched your teeth, bowed your head. “I. . . don’t want to hurt him. . . He’s been. He’s been kind to me. He makes me laugh.”

Park’s eyes gave you a once over, assessing and scrutinizing before you felt a hand atop your shoulder. A gentle squeeze. You looked up and spotted gentle eyes to match before she focused back on her sniper and looking through it.

“It seems we may have similar taste in men, Bell.”

You glanced at her in pity.

Lazar always found a way to make her laugh.

If they achieve this, create the line again for Washington—to Weaver—than perhaps Park can find someone again.

You and Adler’s plan can’t fail.

(Adler’s protege will make a way.)

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…hahahahahaha… hi?

I’m back in the writing pit of this universe! Thank you to @makeyourpeacenow and @junkyardhound with their wondrous works in AO3 I recently discovered thanks to me trying to scour for Adler x Bell fics again. And that inspired me. And for the BO6 trailer. Where I’m back to wanting the Officially Wanted Man Russell Adler.

May this fire not die until this fic is at least completed. And than maybe I can hop back into my other Adler x Bell fic.

Tag List: @tr1ppylady @parkeepingparker @weirdoartist21 @gojocat247 @mayaibnlaahad @dallmaistir @salvija @kylezkie4adler @asaltryefl @stupid-stinky @aurora-windu @zachfoxx121

Are any of you guys still here? I sure hope so. I miss you guys.

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quizzyisdone · 3 months

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The Colour Red (Pt. II) | Jason Hudson x Fem! Bell x Russell Adler

Chapter Title: Bad Moon Risin' Word Count: 3.7k Pairing: Jason Hudson x Fem! Bell x Russell Adler Masterlist Synopsis: Bell and Adler arrive at the safehouse in West Germany, where she meets the rest of her team, save Alex Mason and Frank Woods. The team gets down to business -- they've all gathered to take down the elusive Perseus, the infamous soviet agent whom they know next to nothing about, save for that he's planning something big. That much, Adler is sure of. To figure out their next move, Adler and Park use a memory recollection technique to help Bell recall Operation: Fracture Jaw, yet another memory Bell had lost due to her head injury two months prior. A/N: Hey! I'm back, totally not inspired by the new Black Ops VI trailer at all. Like, at all. Anyways, here is the next installment of my personal favorite series, The Colour Red. Keep in mind this is a slowburn fic, and sorry about the lack of Hudson in this chapter. I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Strong language, mentions of weapons, canon-typical violence.

**Title inspired by "Bad Moon Risin'" by Credence Clearwater Revival

[Part One] [Part Two]

You don't need to read part one to understand this chapter, btw

The car halted to a full stop as Bell fluttered open her eyes, Adler lightly shook her shoulder, stirring her even further awake.

“Bell. Welcome to West Berlin” He gave a half-hearted smile, a cigarette between his teeth. Bell groggily roused herself from the passenger seat, watching Adler closely as he held the lighter close to his face, letting a puff of smoke blow back in the wind behind him.

The light from the flame illuminated the scarred half of his face, and she could see that where he had shaven was uneven and choppy, a stark contrast to the close shave on the “normal” side of his face. Still rather handsome, barring his scars. He had a classically attractive, well structured face, resembling that of movie stars such as Robert Redford. Blonde hair, blue eyes and very charismatic. He must have many women wrapped around his finger back in the states, Bell presumed.

Adler took one last glance at her, then began to approach a woman that was leaning against an old, worn garage door. Bell took in her features as well.

She had an uncanny familiarity about her. She had silky, jet black hair cut and styled into a practical bob, unusually tall but athletically built, and she sported pragmatic yet stylish clothing. She had delicate, feminine features but still yet appeared to be able to keep up with the likes of a black ops legend such as Adler -- a strange dichotomy between graceful and deadly.

Adler had told Bell that she was a legend in her own rite at MI6, that’s why he had requested her for the op. Apparently, it was true that while she was known for her lethality and pretty appearance, it was her brain, not the obvious honey trap she is, that he was interested in. Adler had joked several times that she was a walking cliche, a classic femme fatale type.

The more Bell seemed to take in her appearance, her shattered memory would begin to piece itself together again. Her face. A red door. A jungle. Sterile white lights. Televisions. War footage. Then nothing. Whenever she was on the precipice of piecing her memory back together, it seemed it would shatter again.

Adler glanced back. “You comin’?” He said with a slight frown. Sheepishly, Bell nodded, not having realized she spent too much time what would appear to the others as staring into space for no apparent reason.

Bell hurried to catch up with him, trailing behind Adler closely even as the oddly familiar, yet bitter scent of tobacco filled her nose. That closeness, she wondered, it may be obvious to Adler, which she could live with, but would it escape the notice of the others? She hated that, her clinginess to him, but it made some sense (at least that is how Bell would justify it) -- Adler was the only kind face she could remember after her fall.

Although she didn’t want to admit it, she preferred to be close to him at all times. His presence was comforting, the anxiety she felt would fade away in an instant -- she could almost forget that she couldn’t remember. One might mistake the connection for romantic, as Hudson, their handler had pointed out rather astutely (and irritably) before they departed from Langley today.

Bell couldn't help but notice the parallels either, he very much played the part of her knight in shining armor, saving her from sure death, never having left her side while she healed, gently guiding her as she navigated regaining her lost memory. Although she must admit she has lingered on such an idea, Bell recognized Adler very likely felt no such way towards her.

She knew his feelings towards her. They had been through hell and back together, saved each other's ass, and understood each other like no one else. Bell knew where she stood, something more than a friend but less than a lover. It was a strange, blurry purgatory between platonic affection and passionate love.

He had helped her remember the basics. With his guidance, she now knew that her name was Anabelle Meyers, hence the name “Bell”. She was a cryptographer and a linguist working for MI6, she had spent the better part of a year in Vietnam with Adler when she began working a joint operation with MACV-SOG and MI6 and they’ve been friends for 13 years. Two months ago, on a solo operation, she had taken a long, hard fall, hitting her head. Bell would've died if Adler hadn't been there by random chance. Bell could recall that in perfect detail now, although it was fuzzy just a week ago.

“Park.” He acknowledged and nodded towards her. He glanced back, noticing how Bell followed so closely behind him and smiled to himself. It gave him some kind of pride that she leaned on him as a protector of sorts.

“She looks familiar.” Bell whispered as soon as they were out of earshot of Park.

Adler stopped in his tracks for naught but a second, “Maybe you saw her at the Century House in London back in the day.” She knew that it wasn’t likely they had never been acquainted, nor ever having even met each other, but Bell let the conversation go -- chalking it up as some kind of weird deja vu nonsense.

When the door opened it revealed a large warehouse-like room with a table set in the middle, a bulletin board with the face of man that was supposedly Perseus and a giant red circle around it (Bell quickly noticed how the picture gave her an uneasy pit in her stomach and her head would begin to hurt), an array of weapons upon a wall guarded by chain link fence with a lock, and all the other stereotypical features befitting a CIA safehouse.

“We’ll talk later, okay?” Adler whispered to Bell as he approached the gathering of folks around the table set in the middle. “Bell, this is Helen Park, Lawrence Sims who you’ve already met, and Eleazar Azoulay. We just call him Lazar, though.” He introduced her to them.

Lazar gave her a friendly but quiet hello, Park nodded, and Sims simply stared daggers at her before turning his gaze back to Adler. “Mason and Woods are finishing some business in Kiev, but you’ll meet them later.”

“Do I know them?” Bell asked meekly and Park cocked an eyebrow, smirking to herself as she glanced at Adler, silently beckoning him to answer the question.

“Ah,” Adler chuckled lightly. “No, you know them by reputation, but not, ah, personally.” Bell nodded in response before letting him continue. He turned back to the rest of the group, while Bell stood snug behind Adler. “There’s been a surge in Russian chatter for the past 48 hours. The CIA and DoD are tapping their inside sources for anything substantial, but no leads of Perseus so far.”

“MI6 has come up empty handed as well.” Park added.

“We’ll have to start somewhere, so we’re going back to 1968, Vietnam.” He strode towards to the bulletin board, pointing at a polaroid picture of Sims and Adler sitting side by side, labeled Operation Fracture Jaw. “One our closest encounters with Perseus. Bell, you don’t remember this, of course, but you were there.”

“Fracture Jaw, what a steaming pile of shit that one was.” Sims grumbled.

“Also the first time where Perseus pinged our radar. While you were on the ground, you dug up some intel on him.” Adler continued, he held a folder with a dried, bloody handprint and Cyrillic printed on the front. “We’re gonna help jog your memory so you can crack this. At the time, the CIA’s best analysts couldn’t decode that thing, but we’re gonna have you take a shot.” Adler placed his hand on Bell’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Yeah.” Sims scoffed. “If even Weaver couldn’t crack it, what makes you think she can?” He had said it with such venom, such doubt that it made Bell wonder what had happened between them. She made a mental note to ask Adler about it later, but for the moment, she hardened her gaze, attempting to make herself seem less vulnerable than she truly felt.

“It can’t hurt, Sims. She’s always been one of the best, you know that.” Adler said pointedly. “Anyways, we’re gonna use a hypnosis technique. While our little Bell will be in a hypnotic state, I will be reading the operation report, retelling every detail of what happened when she and you were boots on ground. Theoretically, she should remember it all and be able to decode it.”

Sims shrugged, Park and Lazar nodded in affirmation. The group disbanded wordlessly, Park headed over to the computer by the gun rack with Lazar trailing behind and Sims went over the gate that locked the chain link fence. That had left her and Adler, as he lit another cigarette (his fourth in the last couple of hours, Bell noted) and sat at a chair in front of the evidence board.

He stared quietly at it, his mouth was set in a frown but his sunglasses had made it impossible to even begin to guess what the man was thinking.

“Adler,” Bell spoke quietly, tapping his shoulder. Adler smiled ever so slightly, the small gesture was a welcome change from Sims’ behavior just a moment ago. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything, kid.” He said coolly, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“That memory exercise we’re doing, we can use it to recover some of my memories?” A glint of hope appeared in her chestnut eyes.

He chuckled, low and husky. “Ain’t that exactly what we’re doing, Bell?” She rolled her eyes but gave a small laugh in return.

“You know what I mean. Like, the memories that aren’t from war or anything like that. Something a bit happier.”

Adler grimaced then sighed, ashing his cigarette and sitting up straighter, and the small smile that appeared on Bell’s face vanished, like she knew he was about to tell her some unfortunate news. The pair sat in an awkward silence as Adler thought about how to break it to her.

“We can’t really.” He reached for her hand, giving it a light squeeze before pulling away. “The memory exercise only works when you have either one or two things; a written documentation of a memory that we can actually get our hands on or someone who was also there that can recall the memory and tell it to ya.”

“Oh.”

“When we found you, you didn’t have a journal or anything on you. Not even dog tags. No one would have been able to identify you if I wasn’t there.” He pursed his lips, offering a small apologetic smile. “Sorry, Bell.”

“Well I mean, we’ve been friends for a while. What do you know about me? Anything about my family?” The hopefulness had returned to Bell’s eyes, and Adler could feel a lump forming in his throat as he thought deeply.

“Uh, well,” He cleared his throat. “You never spoke anything of them really, it seemed a sore spot for ya so none of us ever really pried.” She glanced down, looking utterly defeated as she sniffled. Adler tried to lighten the conversation at least a little. This wasn’t the place nor the time. “I know that you used to have a nicotine addiction worse than me.”

Bell chuckled. “I still crave them all the time.”

Adler chuckled, clapping her shoulder. “Tell you what,” He said, reaching into his pocket to grab his cigarettes. He handed one to her and she placed it between her teeth, giggling a little as he lit it for her. “I think you deserve at least one. Old habits die hard.” She took a drag, blowing a playful ‘O’ into his face. “Atta girl. I’ll get you a pack tomorrow.”

“I knew I liked you for some reason.” She smiled, the first genuine smile Adler had ever seen out of the woman.

“I’ve always been an enabler of your bad habits.”

January 26th, 1968

Camp Haskins, South Vietnam

0700

“Bell, time to wake up” A raspy voice had startled her awake, the boot of the offender shaking the fold up chair she had practically passed out in. She groggily opened her eyes to find her new teammate with a shit-eating grin on his face. “It’s crank time.”

“I’m up” She grumbled, rubbing her eyes. He swiped the chair back to the ground where Bell had been leaning, causing the legs to harshly meet the floor and she nearly fell forward. The man chuckled lightly.

“C’mon sleeping beauty, you knew we were doing this.”

“Yeah, I know.” The exhaustion was still evident in her voice as she rose from the chair, grabbing the M16 she had left leaning against the wall. She followed behind him, taking in the scene around her as she left the tent, the morning sun already beating against her skin.

It hadn’t been her first choice, being assigned as an agent working boots on ground with MACV-SOG, and it certainly wasn’t her first choice to be placed in the middle of buttfuck nowhere Vietnam. Her work was typically confined to that of a desk in an office, in the comfort of air conditioning and without the threat of an enemy attack at a moment’s notice. However, given her limited but notable military work, her handler thought she would be wasted back home in the comfort of an office in London.

Her handler was of course right, but she wished he wasn’t as the stench of gunsmoke, gasoline, and body odor filled her nose. She watched about a dozen shirtless, grimy men going about their business. Most had simply ignored her, but a few had leered at her as she passed by, perhaps bedazzled by the first clean and somewhat attractive thing they had probably seen with their own eyes in months, Bell cockily mused to herself.

“Camp Haskins, what a sausage fest.” Bell said quietly, chuckling.

“I heard that.” Adler yelled back good naturedly, and Bell half walked, half jogged to catch up with him. “You should be thankful, this place is a fuckin’ oasis compared to the shitstorm out there. Those boys keep it that way.”

“Yeah, yeah ‘God bless our troops’ and all that shit they keep telling us.” She jabbed Adler’s arm and he laughed softly.

“I know it’s not what you’re used to, but your handler could’ve done worse for you.” They approached the landing zone, her other new teammate, and Adler’s best friend, she had determined based on their interactions, sat on the ledge of a helicopter ready and waiting for them.

“Finally found Bell?” He hollered out over the sound of the whirling blades of the craft, without looking up from the magazine he was reading. Lawrence Sims was his name, he had dark skin with large, almost doe-like black eyes to match. He wasn’t a looker, but he had a friendly, jovial feel about him. Adler approached him, snatched the magazine from his hand to take a lingering glance at the lewd picture within.

“That shit’s gonna make you go blind, Sims.” He threw the magazine back at Sims as Bell loaded herself in.

“That’s why I want it all right up here.” He replied jokingly, pointing his finger to his temple and shooting a playful, friendly wink at Bell.

“You’re not helping Bell’s accusation that this place is a sausage fest.”

“I’d say she’s made an astute observation, then.” Sims clapped his hand on her shoulder. She returned their grin. However, as the pilots began to load in, the mood shifted dramatically with it, like someone had sucked all the humor out of the situation and brought them back to the real world. Adler took this as his cue.

“We got a new assignment. FOB 4 Ripcord is holding a vital asset that Charlie wants real bad.” He shouted over the deafening sound.

“What kinda asset we talking about?” Sims asked.

“The kind you don't ask about. Ripcord has been taking a hell of a beating, so it's our job to secure the asset and get the fuck out.” Bell began to stiffen and her palms began to sweat inexplicably, which Adler seemed to take notice of. “Relax. We got fast fliers providing combat air support for this mission. It'll be a walk in the park.”

“I’m holding you to that.” She said, putting on her headset as Adler took his leave. He climbed in the helicopter just opposite of them, and with that, about half the armada began to lift off. The chatter rang loud through the headset.

“Badger-niner-one good to go.”

“Badger-niner-two clear to go.”

“Badger-niner-three rotors up.”

Sims shuffled a bit, pulling a cassette tape from his pocket. “You like music?” He asked. Bell nodded, a lump beginning to form in her throat. “Good because I was gonna play it anyways.” He inserted the tape into the helicopter’s radio. He bobbed his head to the beat, singing to himself. His voice sounded muffled, the chatter over the radio began to sound more distant and then eventually, nonexistent. The only sound she could truly make out was the lyrics to the song Sims had played.

I see the bad moon a-risin' I see trouble on the way I see earthquakes and lightnin' I see bad times today

She felt sick, nauseous, the sound of the music only worsening the deep pit that began to build in her stomach, she began to sweat, hyperventilate, her vision became blurry, all the colors merging with the blinding light of the rising sun until-

Present Day

“Shit.” An indiscernible voice cursed, and with that, she felt a sharp jab on some unidentifiable place on her body and all faded into darkness again.

January 12th, 1968

“You all sitting comfortably?” Adler’s voice quirked up over the radio.

“Why do I feel like you’re about to tell us some bad news?” Bell quipped, noting how her palms were no longer sweaty the way they were just a second ago, calm had overcome her senses once more as she glanced around her. No one seemed to notice her little episode. Good.

“Because you’re a smart girl, Bell. But the news isn't bad. In fact it could be very, very good. The asset at Ripcord is gonna have to wait a little while. We're breaking off from the armada. Taking a detour.”

Sims raised his eyebrows at this new development. “And... that's good because?”

“A source tipped us off that there may be a heavy hitter from town, a Soviet operative known as Perseus.”

Bell’s head began to hurt again, the pain teetering on intolerable but she attempted to ignore it for the moment. However, the pain seemed to get worse and worse the more she tried not to think about it, and once again, her vision became blurry and all colors became one again.

“First time Perseus pinged our radar…”

Present Day

Bell found herself back in bed, the overhead light shining directly into her eyes again with a pounding headache to boot. She tentatively lifted her head and rolled onto her side, confused as to how she even ended up here. One moment, she was smoking with Adler and the next she was here.

“Oh God…” She groaned painfully, grabbing the water bottle that had been left on the table adjacent to her bed, gulping down nearly half the bottle in one go.

After she had come to, she began to hear the muffled voices from outside the door, although most of what they were saying was unintelligible, she managed to make out some words and phrases.

“...too much…”

“...resistance…try again soon”

“...need something to…won’t be happy…”

Bell couldn’t make out anymore, and the pounding in her skull overpowered her curiosity and she laid back down. She closed her eyes, yearning to let sleep take over her body once more when the door opened, Park and Adler walked in, both staring at her.

Adler’s eyes were of course, unreadable through his signature sunglasses but his expression was set into that of frustration, while Park’s seemed more confused than anything, her brow furrowed as if she was working out some complicated problem in her head.

“How are you feeling, Bell?” Park asked clinically.

“Like I got hit by a bus.” She whined, Park nodded in assent as she scribbled something in a notebook.

“That’s to be expected.” Park replied, not looking up from what she was writing. Adler cleared his throat as he sat at the foot of the bed, beckoning Park to put the pen down. “Forgive me, I’ve just been documenting the recovery of your memories.” She smiled. “I have a vested interest in your case, seeing as the methods we are using to help you remember are relatively new and-”

“Cut to the chase, Park.” Adler interrupted, and Park sighed in frustration at his impatience.

“The exercise we attempted tonight wasn’t as successful as we had hoped.” Park explained, reaching into her pocket to hand Bell two blue-colored pills. “For your head, love. You had some kind of reaction at the mention of Perseus during recollection that disrupted the hypnotic state. Pitiful thing, really. Your subconscious must have fairly negative feelings regarding your time spent with Adler in Vietnam.”

“That makes two of us, Bell.” Adler commented, the distaste evident in his tone as he stared off. “Not my favorite time to remember either.”

“Well, I do believe recollection can still be therapeutic for Bell and is essential to the task at hand. Get some sleep Bell, we’ll pick up where we left off in the morning,” Park gave a courteous smile and left the small, sorry excuse for a room, closing the door behind her. Silence hung in the air for a moment as Bell and Adler were left alone.

“I’m counting on you, Bell. Get some good sleep, need ya sharp for this.” Adler broke the silence, standing from where he sat and heading for the door as well. As he turned the handle, he looked back towards Bell. “Remember, we’ve got a job to do.”

As she fell back asleep, the lyrics for the rest of that song tauntingly played again and again in her head.

Hope you got your things together Hope you are quite prepared to die Looks like we're in for nasty weather One eye is taken for an eye

Tags: @mayasnowforest @kult6 -- I know you guys asked to be tagged like two years ago, but here y'all are <3

#i changed it from magic carpet ride bc i think bad moon rising lends itself rlly well to the foreshadowing #russell adler #russell adler x bell #russell adler x reader #black ops cold war #frank woods #call of duty black ops 6 #cod #call of duty #bocw #bo:cw #black ops #helen park #eleazar azoulay #lawrence sims #quizzy writes #jason hudson #alex mason #call of duty black ops

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monotoneclown · 7 months

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I wanted to try to paint with acrylics for the first time and decided to draw Adler. He was very fun to draw, might try to draw him again in the future.

COD Black Ops Cold War’s storyline still has me effected. I would have liked to talk more about this but I’m kind of sleepy and have a stomach ache today so I doubt that I would make sense even if I tried.

There’s also a drawing of a goat, because why not, I like them.

Anyways, just know that I’ll draw him again.

Kisses to you all.

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rascal-xo · 1 year

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~ RASCALXO MASTERLIST ~

A/N: REQUESTS ARE OPEN :)

Taglist Form • • • • Bonus Blog

titles with ** next to them contain mature content - Read at your own discretion (SMUT, heavy violence, and or some levels of gore)

I mostly write Call of Duty fics but I am willing to do any other kind of requests too Living in the Shadows: Series Masterlist |Simon Riley x Female Reader|

———————————

CoD Black Ops Cold War

** Red White & Blue(Series):Frank Woods x Female Reader

Chapter 1

What The Future Holds: Russell Adler x Reader

The Pain We Ease: Russell Adler x Reader

Electric: Russell Adler x Reader

CoD Modern Warfare II

** Unspoken Love: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader

Spoken Happiness: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader

Sweet Indulgence: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader

Surface Tension: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x GN!Reader

** Sweet Nothings: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader

Bittersweet: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x GN!Reader

When it Rains, It Pours: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader

Desire: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader (WITIP PT.2)

** Loose Ends: Alejandro Vargas x Female Reader

Special Affairs: 141 x G!N Reader

Special Affairs Pt.2: 141 x G!N Reader

Unhealed Wounds: Soap MacTavish x Female Reader

New Faces: 141 x Reader

Stone Cold: Simon Riley x Reader

Stubborn: Simon Riley x Reader

Sunday Punch: Simon Ghost Riley x Female Reader

War and Cookies: Soap Mactavish x Reader

Burning Bridges: Simon Riley x Reader

Dare or Dare: Simon Riley x Female Reader

** Rules of Entanglement: Phillip Graves x Reader

** Fiery Touch: König x Reader

** Home: Phillip Graves x Female Reader

** Broken: Simon Riley x Female Reader

** Ticking Bomb: Simon Riley x Female Reader

Dark Desire: Professor Price x Reader

** Out of Reach: Simon Riley x Female Reader

The Angel of Death: Simon Riley x Female Reader (Part 1) The Angel of Death: Simon Riley x Female Reader (Part 2)

** What Make Us Tick: Simon Riley x Gender Neutral Reader

Flipping The Switch: Simon Riley x Reader

K.O.: Simon Riley x Female Reader

** The Lost Soul: Simon Riley x Female Reader

** An Unspoken Past: Simon Riley x Female Reader

** It was just a dream: Simon Riley x Female Reader Bittersweet: Simon Riley x Female Reader

At Peace: Simon Riley x Female Reader

The things we never said: Simon riley x female reader

Out of our hands: Simon Riley One Shot

Headcannons

How They React To Gossip : 141

Domestic Bliss: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader

**Stargirl (Domestic Bliss pt 2): Simon Riley x Female Reader

All My Love: Simon Riley x Female Reader

When they Smoke weed for the first time: 141

#black ops cold war #call of duty #cold war #russell adler #frank woods #frank woods is blueprint daddy #russell adler is a dilf #russell adler x fem!reader #russell adler x reader #alex mason #frank woods x reader #call of duty headcanons #call of duty fanfic #call of duty smut #captain price #call of duty black ops #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty ghost #call of dooty

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mockerycrow · 11 months

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CROW’S 4K CELEBRATION GUIDELINES

I truly cannot express my gratitude for all of your love and support over the last couple of months. I never imagined I would hit even 1k, and now I’m at 4k?? holy. fuckin. shit. I love you all!!!

NO LONGER ACCEPTING 4K REQUESTS <3

-> GUIDELINES BELOW THE CUT <-

RULES

PROPER REQUEST FORMAT: “character x gender!reader w/ “insert prompt here” + an AU if you would like :-)

One character per request (unless it’s character x reader x character! (i.e ghost x fem!reader w/ “i can’t do it anymore.”)

Specify the gender you would like. plain “character x reader” will result in gender neutral.

AU’s are allowed.

See my general request rules.

please be patient!! i will get these out asap.

not all of these will be full fledged 3k+ word fics!!

characters that I will be writing for this celebration (all call of duty); ghost, gaz, soap, price (including reboot and og), roach, könig, alex keller, farah karim, kate laswell, alejandro vargas, rodolfo parra, russell adler, frank woods, alex mason, jason hudson, david mason, gideon, jack mitchell, keegan russ, logan + hesh walker.

PROMPTS

fluff prompts #1

fluff prompts #2

angst prompts #1

angst prompts #2

smut prompts #1

smut prompts #2

-> 4K Celebration Posts Masterlist

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multi-fandom-imagine · 2 years

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Replaying Call of Duty: Cold War

How come I never see no love for

Frank Woods:

Alex Mason:

And Russel Adler:

#cod #call of duty x you #call of duty x reader #call of duty black ops #call of duty black ops cold war #call of duty cold war #cod Cold War #alex Manson #russel adler #Frank woods

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cherwich · 1 year

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Bell?...

#russell adler #call of duty #cod cold war #cod black ops cold war #bell cod #russell adler x reader #russell adler x bell #frank woods #alex mason #Am I in love with him? No.#Maybe.#Yes.

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iamcalmdammit · 2 years

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Trust issues || [David "Section" Mason x reader x Phillip Graves]

Summary: As Russell Adler's daughter, you were used to your father's scheming. But when he interferes with your relationship with your boss to help your ex get you back, you begin to lose track of what you want.

Length: 7.7k words

Characters: David "Section" Mason, Phillip Graves, Russell Adler, Frank Woods

Note: I've been working on this for a while, but something always came up. Now here you go. What do you think? I love all of these guys. All of them. // Me? Proof-reading? Never. I'll die on that hill (one day.)

The private conference where Phillip was giving a keynote speech was about to begin shortly, but he was still standing outside in the hallway, going through some stats with his most trusted employee. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as you tried to finish the conversation you were having with your sales contact from the organizers.

Once he finally apologized and left you there, you quickly made your way to your boss who was now on his own, his blue eyes fixed on you in a way that made your skin burn. You nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and tried to think of anything but that look he had in his eyes.

"How's my tie?" he asked when you got there.

"Perfect."

"Hair?"

You couldn't help but laugh at this. When did he become so vain? "Everything's good, don't worry," you assured him.

"I'm not worried."

You pursed your lips and raised your eyebrows upon hearing his statement. It came a little too fast and he sounded suspiciously sure of himself.

"What was that look?" he asked the moment he saw your expression.

At first you wanted to ignore his question. He was giving good speeches, he never had a problem with that, but today he seemed a little fallen apart, as if his mind was somewhere else. You were sure there would be no problem, but it still made you worried about him. Something was wrong, you just didn't know what.

"Sweetheart."

Someone placed a hand on your shoulder and you almost jumped out of your skin. When you turned to look at who it was, your lips curled into a smile. "Dad, hi," you told him as you quickly hugged him. "I didn't know you would be here."

"It was a last minute change of my plans," he replied then looked over at your boss.

"Oh, right. Dad, this is Phillip Graves, the CEO of Shadow Company. Phil, meet my dad, Russell Adler."

Phillip shook your father's hand and said, "It's nice to meet you, sir."

"Likewise." Something was off, you could feel it. He was about to say something you wouldn't like and soon you were proven right by him. "This must mean you're the one who makes my girl work so much," he pointed out.

But Phillip didn't seem to pick up on that because he sounded pretty chill when he replied. "Quite the opposite, I'm usually the one telling her to go home," he pointed out.

"Is that so?"

"Dad, can you not?" you tried, putting a hand on his arm to make sure he wouldn't ask any more questions.

"I see you're working for the government," Phillip spoke up, pointing at the text on the badge in your father's neck.

He nodded. "As an advisor, yes."

"That's great."

But he didn't seem interested in keeping up a conversation with Phillip because he quickly turned to you and asked, "Can we talk?"

"Sure. Will you be okay?" you asked, turning to your boss.

"Don't worry about me."

"I'm not worried," you told him, maybe a little too quickly.

"Okay, I get that look now," he said with a laugh. "I'll go find my PA to check my schedule for the day."

"Good luck." Once he disappeared with his phone in hand, you turned back to your father. "What did you want to talk about?"

"My birthday's coming up."

"I know."

"You'll come over this year, right?" This again. Great. You'd been missing out on his birthdays in the past few years, but it's not like it was intentional. You usually went there, only a few weeks later. "Y/N, I'm getting older, who knows how many more birthdays I'm gonna have. You've been working on my birthdays in the past years, let's celebrate together this time."

He was right and you knew it. "Fine, I'll see what I can do. I promise," you added.

"Thank you. Now, tell me how you are. You look tired."

"I work a lot, it's been crazy in the office."

"Do you want me to talk to your boss?" he asked with a laugh.

"Thanks, but I can handle it."

"Sure?"

"Sure."

Your father fell silent and it made you uneasy. Whenever he gave you the look he had in his eyes now, you knew he was about to tell you something you wouldn't like to hear. "There's something about this boy that I don't like," he finally said.

The last time you had heard him say this was back when you were dating a guy from college and decided to introduce them to each other. It was a bad idea. "What would that be?" you asked anyway, by now curious to hear what he had against Phillip.

"I can't really tell," he said with a shrug. "It's just a hunch."

"He's not that bad," you tried.

"If you say so."

Oh, no, you knew this tone. "Wait, it's not just a hunch, you know something."

"Just be careful, that's all I'm saying," he said, holding up his hands. "And I still like David more than any other candidate."

"Dad, David and I broke up last year. Get over it."

"But you still talk quite a lot." Before you could respond, a chiming sound could be heard. "Oh, I believe it's time for the section your boss is in. Let's sit down."

As you were walking towards the chairs in front of the podium, you tried to get some answers out of him. "Do you and David talk about me behind my back often?" you demanded.

He looked at you then sat down, patting the chair next to him so you would do the same. "Your name comes up sometimes," he replied in the end.

"You're scheming and I don't like it," you told him in a whisper.

"Let's pay attention, okay?"

You hated this so much. He had worked for the CIA for a long time--hell, you were quite sure he was still working for them and this government advisor position was bullshit--and he often acted like raising you was one of his missions. He wanted to know every detail, every person you kept in touch with, where you went and what you were doing.

He always did a background check on your boyfriends and so far the only one who managed to pass his test was David. But you knew it wasn't only because of him as a person, but his background as well. He was the son of Alex Mason, someone your dad had worked with back during the Cold War, and he was raised by Frank Woods, another man your father closely worked with in the past.

Soon you were snapped out of your thoughts by a delicate applause from the crowd as Phillip stepped on the podium. He looked around, but then his eyes landed on you and he watched you as he began his speech. You couldn't hide your smile and you lost track of his words after a while. But every time he looked at you for a brief second, your breath caught in your throat.

Later you said goodbye to your father, promising him you would have dinner with him, then went to look for Phillip's PA so the two of you could talk to some people together, hopefully booking interview appointments.

'I'm at the bar. Come down and join me.'

That was all your boss' message said late at night. You weren't sleeping yet so you thought you could just as well go down for a drink and see what he wanted. While you looked into the mirror in the elevator, you suddenly realized that you were like a dog answering its owner's whistle.

Pathetic.

But at the same time you didn't really mind. You liked his sense of humor, the excited way he could talk about work, and how he always made time for conversations with you. He was nice to all of his employees, but you weren't sure if there were more than a handful he talked to outside of work as well.

He was sitting by the bar with a glass of bourbon in front of him. "I was beginning to think that I lost you," he said with a smile.

"I had dinner with Dad," you explained as you sat on the barstool next to him.

"I hoped we could eat together."

You let out a quiet laugh. "Maybe some other time."

"It's hard to make it happen if you always say no." There was something about his tone of voice that immediately made you look at him. You hoped he would tell you what he meant by that, but he didn't elaborate and changed the topic instead. "Anyway. I was wondering, how old is your dad?"

"Almost eighty-two," you told him.

"And he's still working as an advisor?"

Nodding, you took the cocktail you had ordered from the bartender then turned back to him. "Retirement isn't for him, especially since my mom died."

Phillip looked down at his glass. "What did he do when he was younger?"

"He worked for the CIA."

"For real?" Once again, you nodded and waited for him to explain why he looked like he had just had an epiphany. "That explains the way he looked at me."

Oh, fuck, he picked up on that. But you decided to play dumb for now. "What way?"

"He was suspicious."

"I'm sure he wasn't."

"He was, trust me. But I'm an open book, I have nothing to hide," he stated before finishing his drink and looking at you.

There it was again, the look that burned your skin. "If you say so," you said after clearing your throat and tearing your gaze away.

Phillip ordered another round of bourbon then took a sip with his eyes still on you. "Did you get any feedback about my speech?"

"It was good," you began, happy to talk about work instead of your private life. "Jeff and I already scheduled a few of the interviews we had talked about."

"Why aren't you talking to me about that?"

"Because that's why you have a PA?"

He suddenly reached out to put a hand on top of yours. "Oh, no, I want us to talk directly to each other about these things, okay?"

"You mean you want to schedule them yourself?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying, yes."

"As you wish," you told him as you pulled away your hand and stood up. "Well, I only came down because of your message, but I'm tired so I'm off to sleep. See you tomorrow, I guess."

"Come on, stay a little longer. You can't leave me here alone," he asked, almost begging you.

"Pick up some woman. I'm sure it wouldn't be that hard," you let the first thought slip out of your mouth.

Shaking his head, Phillip stood up as well and took both your hands. "Please, don't do this. I can't be any more obvious."

"You're my boss."

"And? I'll talk to HR if that's what you want."

"I can't do this. Just think about how it would affect our work relationship."

A smile suddenly appeared on his lips. "I think things have been better since that kiss in Zürich," he noted.

"That was a mistake," you told him, although in reality you often thought about that kiss and wished you could repeat it.

"Are you sure? Because I'm not." He let go of your hand and cupped your face with his hands instead. "One chance, that's all I'm asking for."

Your eyes were locked with his blue ones, and you were slowly getting lost in their depths. "Why is it so hard to say no to you?" you whispered more to yourself than him.

"It must be my boyish charm," he replied with a laugh. "You wouldn't be the first one to complain about it."

"Is this how you sweep women off their feet?"

Letting out a sigh, he shook his head. "No, actually it was my mom who always said that."

Giggling like some stupid schoolgirl, you said, "I imagine you always got what you wanted."

"I worked hard for everything." His lips were suddenly close to yours, getting slowly closer as he carefully examined your reaction. But you couldn't resist, you wanted him to kiss you so you closed the gap and took the lead. "Why don't we go up to my room? I'll prove you made the right choice," he said with a wide grin.

•••••••

Two months after you officially started dating, you were sitting between his legs on the floor, leaning your back against his chest as you sipped your wine. You were watching some overrated indie movie neither of you had been paying much attention to lately.

Phillip had one hand around your waist, and another under your unbuttoned jeans, teasing you despite your constant begging for more than that. At one point he admitted that he wasn't planning to do anything serious just yet, at first he wanted to see how you reacted to him teasing you while the movie lasted.

It was a stupid experiment, but you knew that once it was over, he would satisfy you over and over again for sure. He was an overachiever in bed, you knew that, and when you had pointed that out, he didn't even try to deny it.

Then your doorbell rang, bringing you back to reality. "Don't open it," he whispered in your ear when you tried to stand up.

"Our cars are outside and the lights are on. It would be rude to ignore whoever it is," you pointed out with a laugh.

"You're ruining our fun." You turned your head to look at him and once your eyes locked, he let out a defeated sigh. "Fine, I'll let you go for a short while, baby, but make it quick," he told you before he licked his fingers clean.

You turned around to be on all fours in front of him and gave him a soft kiss before you stood up and said, "I'll be right back."

You looked out of the window on the way to the door and noticed the silhouette of a familiar car in the dark. When you opened the door and saw your guest, you immediately knew why it was familiar.

"David, hi," you greeted him with a surprised look. "What are you doing here?"

He took a deep breath and thought about where to begin, but until he spoke up, his hazel eyes gave away that whatever it was, it really bothered him. "I need to vent and I don't know who else to go to," he finally admitted.

Before you could ask him what the problem was, he simply walked inside, leaving you standing there. "Sure, come in," you said quietly.

You followed him to the kitchen where Phillip was busy pouring another glass of wine for himself. "That was quick," he noted without looking up. But once he turned to you with a seductive smile, it all disappeared and he watched David cautiously. "Oh. Hello?"

David turned to you. "I'm interrupting something, aren't I?" he asked.

"Yes," Phillip replied impatiently.

"No," you said at the exact same time.

Your ex shook his head. "I should go."

"Wait, why don't you just tell me what's wrong?"

"Frank," was all he said in response.

You began to laugh at this. "Ooooh."

"Don't laugh, he's getting on the nurses' nerves and I'm the one getting the calls. I have to talk to him about it, but I need reinforcement. He adores you, Y/N. Come with me."

There was something about the way he said it that made you think. Could it be that Frank didn't know the truth? "You did tell him we broke up, didn't you?" you asked with a questioning look.

David groaned and looked up at the ceiling for a moment. "Look, he's old, I didn't want to shock him."

"David!"

"Okay, what if we tell him together? I'm sure he will have questions and it would be better if I didn't have to answer on your behalf," he tried.

"My dad isn't young either and I managed to tell him alone. When it happened, not a year later," you added.

"Come on, Frank would be happy to see you again. Please."

"Ugh, fine."

"Thank you," he said as he reached out to quickly squeeze your hand.

That was the moment Phillip cleared his throat and looked at David expectantly. "We don't know each other, do we?"

"No, I don't think so. I'm David Mason," he introduced himself as he extended a hand.

"Phillip Graves." He shook your ex's hand then pointed at the bottle on the kitchen island. "Can I get you a glass of wine?"

"Thank you, but it's time for me to go. Sorry for disturbing you."

Phillip laughed. "No worries. Have a good night."

You walked David to the front door and watched as he sat in his car and drove off. So Frank was causing trouble again. You laughed while you closed the door and returned to your boyfriend in the kitchen. When you got there, you saw him looking at you with an upset look on his face. Was he jealous?

"What?" he suddenly asked.

"You're jealous."

He let out a laugh. "Me? Of this guy? Don't be ridiculous."

"Then what was this all about?" you asked him.

"I just offered him a drink since he was your guest." Tilting your head to the side, you gave him a disapproving look. He had been playing some stupid power game with David, it was obvious. "You don't believe me?"

"No."

Phillip walked over to you and put his hands on your hips as he examined your face. Then his hands began to move up your side, gently stroking your skin under the shirt you were wearing. "Too bad. But I have nothing to worry about, right? I mean, you're mine after all. I own every inch of this gorgeous body of yours," he said once he took off your shirt and began to place kisses all over your chest. "I love you," he murmured against the hollow of your throat.

The way he ruled your mind and body was nothing new, but even now you were surprised by the power he had over you. You already forgot that you had a visitor that night, all you could think about was him. And how despite all this you could never get yourself to say that you loved him.

•••••••

The Vault was a strange place. You didn't really know why, but you never really felt safe there, this is why you had always visited it with David by your side. You never had to tell him about this weird fear of yours, he instinctively knew and paid more attention to you while you were there.

Now that you had to go back there to see Frank, this probably irrational fear returned. But even though you weren't together anymore, David still stayed close to you, and took your hand to guide you away from an unruly patient outside in the garden. And after that, he didn't let go, he just wrapped his fingers tightly around yours and walked towards Frank's room as if you were in last year.

Then you finally reached your destination and you couldn't hold back a smile when you saw the old sergeant. "Frank," you greeted the man.

He turned the wheelchair around and let out a heartfelt laugh. "Y/N, it's been so long. Where the hell have you been?" he asked as he reached out to take your hand in his.

"I'm sorry, something always came up."

"David's right, you work too much," he stated once he rolled back to take a better look at the two of you.

With an annoyed groan leaving your lips, you folded your arms over your chest and gave him a sharp look. "Not you too."

"Your old man?" Frank asked with a laugh.

"He always tells me that too, yeah."

Next to you David huffed loudly enough for you to hear it. "And we're right," he noted.

Before you could say anything in your defense, Frank cleared his throat to stop the upcoming fight. "How are you, kids? I'm sure there's a reason why you both came here after such a long time. Here to announce your engagement finally?"

"No, we're not. Quite the opposite."

"We broke up last year, we--well, I just didn't know how to tell you the truth," David admitted. He sounded sad and you couldn't decide if he was trying to guilt trip you or really felt like that.

Frank closed his eyes and nodded. "Too bad, you were sickeningly cute together. What happened?"

"It just didn't work out," you replied.

"Because you work way too much." You turned to David, ready to defend yourself, but he changed the topic before you could say anything. "Anyway, we're also here to talk to you about your behavior," he said, turning to the very man who had helped raise him after his father's death.

He remained silent for a short while, as if he was having trouble remembering things. "What are you talking about?" he asked innocently.

David dropped on one knee to get on eye level with him. "The staff called me. Poker parties? For real?"

"Do you have any idea how boring it is here?"

"And you call one of the nurses Nurse Batshit?" David asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, because she goes batshit crazy whenever I want to smoke," Frank explained.

"You shouldn't do that."

"Don't tell me what to do, I'm old enough to decide on my own."

You couldn't do it anymore, you couldn't keep a straight face. So you finally let all of your emotions out and started laughing, even getting a tissue out of your bag to dry a few stray teardrops.

David let out a sigh and turned to look at you. "Why are you laughing?" he asked seriously.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I know this is serious, but," you began before losing it again. "Nurse Batshit? I can imagine you wheeling around in your chair screaming that nickname."

"She never listens," Frank noted.

"Because it's rude."

This time David gave you a confused look. "Then why are you laughing?"

"Because it's also hilarious."

"Thanks for the help, Y/N."

"I'm so sorry." After breathing in and breathing out a few times, you could finally calm yourself enough to speak seriously. "Okay, but for real, you should be nice to the staff. And don't organize poker parties, if you need money--"

"I don't need money, I want to have some fun," the old man interrupted you angrily.

"Frank, there are rules here, okay? Please, try to adapt to them," David tried.

"I'm too old for that, I won't change, son."

You put up your hands. "We tried."

"You give up that easily?"

"Look, he did a lot for our country, he deserves to have a peaceful and… fun retirement," you tried to reason with him.

Frank's lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he looked at David and pointed at you. "Listen to her," was all he said in the end.

The three of you chatted some more but things became weird when Frank began to ask both you and David if you were seeing anyone now. David explained that he was focusing on work and his girls, while you… Well, you lied and said you were also alone at the moment. You didn't know why you said that, it just came out like that.

Once you left the building, David stopped you by a bench in the garden and motioned you to sit down with him. "You weren't too much help, but thank you for coming," he said after watching you for a few minutes in silence.

"I'm sorry, but Nurse Batshit," you said, although your voice faded as you started laughing again.

"Okay, you're right, that's funny." David was now laughing too, finally appreciating Frank's sense of humor. Just as suddenly as he started laughing, though, he fell silent again then said, "I miss you."

"David…"

"I'm serious. But tell me this--why him?"

"You mean Phil?" you asked the obvious.

He nodded and you could tell he was furious by now. "Yes, your goddamn boss of all people," he pointed out. "Can't you see that he's using his position to get what he wants from you?"

But you only shook your head and ignored his anger. "It didn't happen from one day to another," you said, keeping your voice down to calm him down a bit.

"Oh, trust me, I know. It all began when we were still together."

"It's not true."

"I remember what it was like. I remember his fucking voice from my nightmares because you always put him on speaker when he called," he finally snapped. "It didn't matter if it was late night or the weekend, or if we were out on a date. You always answered his call. Always."

It was true, you couldn't argue with him, but there was something that you knew he didn't want to say out loud. "I never cheated on you," you informed him, hoping you answered whatever theory or question he had in his mind.

"I'm sure you didn't, at least not physically. But emotionally? That I'm not so sure about." Could he be right about this? So much had happened since then that you didn't even remember the details. "Tell me, is he treating you right? Or does he talk to you in private as if you were any other of his employees?"

"Don't do this," you said weakly.

"Answer me." He watched you intently, probably trying to read your face in case you didn't answer. And you didn't answer. You didn't know what to say because a part of you knew he was right. "You can't even answer this simple question. Leave him. Do yourself a favor and throw him out."

"And go back to you?"

"I wouldn't mind. I tried to be friends with you but that's not enough."

Letting out a sigh, you looked into his hazel eyes and wondered why he suddenly said these things. For months you only had casual conversations, you never suspected that he still had feelings for you. If you had known, you would've kept your distance for his sake.

Before you realized what was happening, he reached out and pulled you into a kiss. A hungry and passionate kiss you knew all too well, one he usually reserved for post-mission meetings. You were so surprised that you instinctively returned the kiss, something you definitely wouldn't have done if you could think straight.

But as terrible as it was to admit, you enjoyed it, and memories you had forcefully pushed into the back of your mind in the past months now returned--date nights, lazy mornings in bed together, trips to the zoo with his daughters. It had been so good to be with him, it was definitely more domestic than the relationship you were currently in.

Then your phone began to ring and when you looked at your watch, you freaked out. "Shit, it's Phil," you said in panic.

"Leave it," David told you before he kissed you again.

It didn't last long this time because the call brought you to your senses and you pushed him away. "No, wait, what the fuck am I even doing?"

He watched you jump up and take a few steps away from him then flashed a cheeky smile at you. "Following your heart."

"How poetic."

"You wanted this."

"You're confusing me."

"I couldn't confuse you if you really loved him."

You did love Phil, you knew that deep down, but you couldn't deny that you wanted this. A part of you still missed David, still regretted having those fights back in the day. But there was something else you needed to remind him of. "You threw me out to begin with!" you snapped at him.

David stood up and walked over to you. "Because of him! Because of whatever the fuck was happening between you."

"I need to answer this," you suddenly remembered your ringing phone.

"Go ahead, I won't stop you."

"Stay quiet."

"Why?" he asked with a laugh. "He knows we're visiting Frank together, doesn't he?"

You gave him an angry look. Not because he was wrong, Phil knew you didn't come alone, but he made it sound like it would be fun for him to piss your boyfriend off by talking in the background. It wouldn't be beyond him to do something like this.

"Hey, Phil," you said into the phone after you answered the call.

"Babe, it took you so long to answer. Is everything okay?" he asked almost worriedly.

"Yeah, I was just looking for a quiet place to talk to you," you lied, earning a disapproving look from David.

"Are you still there?"

"Yeah, we just finished."

"How did it go?"

"Not well, but we kinda knew he wouldn't change."

"And your ex?"

Shit. "What about him?" you asked as if you didn't know what he was talking about.

"Did he behave?"

"Jealous?" You laughed, although it wasn't a happy, but more like a nervous laugh.

"Like I already told you, I have no reason to be," Phil replied confidently and you could imagine the smirk on his lips now. "See you tonight?"

"Yeah. I'll be waiting."

Once you put the phone away, you took a deep breath then turned around to face David. He was watching you with his arms folded over his chest, burning a hole inside you with that glare. "He knows that you shouldn't be with him, that's why he's so worried about you coming here with me," he suddenly said.

You gulped loudly while you thought about what he said. "He's not worried."

"I heard you asking him if he was jealous. So what would be the better word then? Insecure?" he asked with a laugh.

"I won't stay here and listen to you talking shit about my boyfriend," you told him angrily before turning around and walking away.

•••••••

Russell had been through a lot throughout his career, but despite not acting like the best father in the world most of the time, you were one of the things about his life that he was truly proud of. Not saving the world or getting rid of bad guys. No. You.

So when your boyfriend called him to say he had plans for your birthday, that he would throw a party to celebrate you, he knew he had no choice but to play nice. He didn't like Phillip, but you loved him and that was enough for now.

At the party you looked truly happy and chatted with every single guest eventually. You were talking to one of your neighbors when he found you again, although he only watched you from afar, appreciating the sight of you having David by your side again. Russell remembered that old lady, David had sometimes helped her around the house while you were together.

"They are adorable together," he noted happily when he noticed Phillip standing next to him out of the corner of his eye.

"I beg to differ, sir," was all he said with a surprising level of confidence, although Russell was able to tell it was just an act and he was probably nervous under this calm surface.

"Of course you do."

Phillip let out a sigh and licked his lips as he turned to him. "I have a question for you. Why do you hate me so much?"

"I don't hate you, son, I just don't trust you. I want my daughter to be safe in a relationship," he explained.

"So you think I can't protect her?"

It was clear from his reaction that he wasn't a parent yet, especially not the father of a girl. "I'm sure you could protect her from physical harm, but I'm talking about emotional safety. I doubt you could give her that."

"But you think he could," Phillip said, pointing at David.

Russell nodded. "I know he can. She has known him for many years, she was by his side after the divorce, she went through hell to get his eldest daughter to at least like her, and they spent four years together," he listed.

"And despite all this they still broke up."

"All because of you."

Upon hearing this answer, Phillip raised an eyebrow and turned to him. "What does it have to do with me?"

"The two of you have been close for a while now, haven't you? Maybe a little too close for David's liking. Late night calls, weekend calls, business lunches and dinners, business trips--you knew exactly what you were doing."

The younger man laughed. "You think I'm that calculating?"

"You might as well be."

"Well, I think your daughter knows best who's the better choice for her, so I suggest you step back and let her decide on her own," Phillip told him coldly.

Who would have thought. This kid could still surprise him. "Is that a threat?" he asked calmly.

"No, sir, just an advice," your boyfriend replied with a smile before walking away, going straight to you.

You greeted him with a smile when Phillip put an arm around your waist and handed you another cocktail. He gave David a cold look, who in return excused himself and left the group. A smile crept on his lips. Good, he knew his place.

He kissed your temple, hoping this gentle gesture could get your attention. When you gave him a questioning look, he asked, "Baby, do you have a minute? I have another surprise for you."

"Another?" you asked in a surprised tone.

"It's not a big deal." Once you reached an area that was less crowded, Phillip reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box that he then handed to you. When you saw what was inside, you looked up at him, expecting answers. "Keys to my house. Move in," he explained.

While he thought you would be happy to see it, in reality you were unsure of the whole thing. "Isn't it soon?"

"Why would we waste our time?" asked Phillip as he took your hand. "Come on, things are great, this is the next step."

"Can I think about it?"

He was confused, he didn't understand why you weren't glad to hear he was ready to move forward with your relationship. But he didn't want to push you so he had to be patient this time. "Sure. I'm not trying to force you here, it's just an option," he replied with a smile.

You finally smiled at him and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Thank you," you whispered against his skin.

"I love you more than anything, Y/N. You know that, right?"

"I love you too." Then you let go of him and stepped back a little to look at him. "So how was working with Dad on this little party?

It was a nightmare, he wanted to say. "We had our differences about the guest list," he began, intentionally not mentioning David's invite, "but other than that it went well."

"I'm glad to hear that. I know how difficult he can be."

"No, it was okay. If things go that well we might be friends one day," he lied.

With a warm smile you fiddled with the collar of his shirt. "Look how confident you are."

"I would say optimistic."

•••••••

You didn't know what you were doing in front of that door, but something led you there. It was a thought in the back of your mind, telling you to come and see him again. You knocked and waited, hoping he would open the door soon.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" asked David in surprise.

Looking down at your hands, you thought about how to answer this. Really, what the hell were you doing? "I don't really know."

He flashed a small smile at you as he stepped aside and fully opened the door. "Do you wanna come in?"

"Only if it's okay."

"You're always welcome here, you know that."

The two of you walked inside to the kitchen, briefly passing by the living room. "Oh, yeah, Savannah and Jessica are with me this weekend," he explained when you noticed the tops of the girls' heads.

Without thinking, you said, "Hello, girls."

They didn't respond, just kept on watching some animated movie. Once you reached the kitchen, you leaned against the kitchen island and watched David with a sad look on your face.

"Is everything okay with you?" He put a finger under your chin and made you look at him "Come on, you can tell me."

"Phil asked me to move in with him," you admitted after some thinking.

"Will you?"

"I don't know yet."

"Do you want this?"

"I'm not sure."

"Why?"

It was a tough question. Sure, you loved Phillip and things were great, but something was missing. And there was another thing too. "I can't get you out of my head since that kiss," you admitted with a guilty expression.

David's lips turned up into a smile. "Is that so?"

"Don't look that smug," you said with a laugh.

"I told you he's not good enough for you," he pointed out quietly.

But just saying this wasn't enough for him. David swept a strand of hair out of your face and slowly leaned closer and closer to kiss you. You should have resisted the temptation, you should have pushed him away, but you couldn't.

"I wish I didn't want you this much," you admitted after he kissed you.

David put his hand under your shirt that began to move up your spine. "Let's do something about that," he whispered into your ear.

You looked back into the living room and saw the two girls still sitting on the couch without paying attention to them. "Your daughters are here in the living room."

"They just started that movie, they won't leave the room until it's over. We'll be quiet. Come with me," he said as he took your hand and began to lead you to his bedroom.

You didn't resist, you let him do whatever he wanted to do. It was a mistake and you were aware of it, but you had trouble thinking straight in his presence. Everything came back from the time you'd spent together and you began to wonder if being with Phillip was a good idea.

In the end you stayed until the morning and performed the walk of shame on the way to your car. You were an idiot. How could you do something like this? And things got worse when you got a message from your boyfriend, asking to meet you in his home.

"What the fuck does this supposed to mean?!" he snapped at you the moment you entered his study where he was waiting for you.

You glanced at the laptop screen he was pointing at and noticed a video of you and David from the night before. "Where did you get this?" you asked worriedly.

"What does it matter?"

"You sent someone to follow me around?"

Phillip took a deep breath as he turned the laptop back to himself and stopped the video. "You've been acting weird, what else was I supposed to do?" he asked.

Laughing, you raised up your hands. "So that's how much you trust me."

"That's rich coming from you. You cheated on me!"

"Look, it only happened once--"

"I don't give a fuck about your excuses or how many times this happened," he told you angrily. "This is a video from yesterday night, when you canceled our date because you weren't feeling well. And he's been bombing you with messages for months now--to what you always answer. I read them, I know exactly what you're talking about."

He crossed a line with this. "You what? Those are private conversations," you pointed out. This is what you got for being with someone who was good at this stuff.

"I don't give a fuck! What matters is that you lied to me. You told me you loved me while you were screwing your ex."

"Phil, let's calm down and have a normal conversation."

"Sure. Then let me tell you about your dad's little scheming. I checked his call records and messages from the past year and he has been communicating with your ex a lot more since we got together. He didn't even try to hide it whenever we talked that he prefers him over me, so I wouldn't be surprised if he was trying to convince him to try to get close to you again."

"You're seeing too much into this."

"Oh, I don't think so. Here, let me show you something," he said as he pushed a few buttons on the laptop then turned it to you.

Based on the logs, these were chats between your father and David. The snippets Phillip collected for you were all about your father trying to convince David that your current boyfriend didn't deserve you, that he was a bad guy for ruining your relationship, and that maybe you should be together again.

Fuck. Why couldn't he stay out of your life?

"Believe me now?" Phillip asked as he put a hand on your cheek to make you focus on him. "Listen, baby, I love you despite all this shit. If you are willing to go no contact with Mason, I might even forgive you. But you need to make up your mind for good," he said, leaning so close that he almost kissed you.

Prying his hands off of you, you took several steps back and buried your hand into your hair as you thought about what to do or say now. You cheated, it was obvious why Phillip was mad at you and you couldn't blame him. But what he had showed you, the truth about your father and David…

"It's too much, isn't it?" he asked, as if he could read your mind.

You were almost crying by the time you got to answering his question with a nod. "I know why you're so angry and I'm so sorry."

"Hey, they manipulated you," Phillip cautiously said as he took your hand. "This asshole got close to you again so he could break us up. But I have faith in us, okay? We can get through this."

"I'll talk to him."

"Setting clear boundaries, I believe." When he saw you look down at your shoes instead of answering, he got worried. "To set clear boundaries, right?"

"I just want to know what he was planning all along first. But," you began upon seeing the look on his face, "maybe I'll visit Dad instead. Yeah, that's what I'll do."

"Good girl," he said before placing a soft kiss on your temple.

•••••••

A few days later you were sitting in your father's living room with a warm cup of tea in front of you. He was sitting in the armchair next to you and watched you with an expectant look on his face, after all the two of you had been sitting there in silence for over five minutes now.

"You've been scheming again, Dad," you finally said. He raised an eyebrow, as if he had no idea what you were talking about. "Come on, I saw the messages you sent David in the past months."

"Look at my little girl, snooping around in other people's business," he told you with a proud smile.

You shook your head at this. "No, I got the messages from Phillip, he's the one who got his hands on them. What were you thinking? That I would go back to David after everything that happened recently?"

Rolling his eyes, Russell took a sip of his coffee. "Your relationship with your boss can't last long. He's using you, I know that."

"You hate him since the moment you met."

"That's not true. I already hated him before that," he admitted with a shrug. "You and David broke up because of that guy. You threw away a relationship that worked so well and what you worked so hard for."

Breathing in then breathing out, you tried to calm yourself. "David was the one who sent me away, don't forget this," you warned your father.

"Because of him. All of this happened because of him. If you and David gave your relationship another shot, you could be happy again. You could quit your job and look for something that comes with less stress, something far from Graves and his manipulation," he tried.

"Why can't you just accept that I'm happy with him?" you tried with your face buried in your hands. "Phil loves me, he even asked me to move in with him."

"Yet you kissed David when you visited Woods," your father pointed out.

You looked up with a shocked expression on your face. "How do you know about that?"

"Woods. Someone saw the two of you and told him about it," he explained.

Damn it, not him as well. Pushing the thought of your father not only scheming with David, but with Frank as well aside, you tried to figure out how to convince him to stay out of your love life without getting into a fight. It was a tough one.

Then he cleared his throat and said, "Okay, I can see you don't like me pushing this… David propaganda. Fine, I'll stop. But answer me this. When you think of getting married and spending the rest of your life with someone, who would you really like to see there with you? David or Graves?"

*******************

Note 2: What? It's over like this? The answer is yes, it's over like this. I couldn't pick one, I love them both. The readers need to make the final decision.

#call of duty #david section mason x reader #david section mason #david mason x reader #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves #david mason #modern warfare #black ops #russell adler #frank woods

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fallenmistake923 · 2 years

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After completing the campaign for cold war, I've just been writing fanfics and only uploaded one so far. The three I have on the back burner are:

Multiversal worlds collide, but every version of Bell can handle it, right? Even if one can't, surely she can help herself figure it out. Meeting herself shouldn't be too bad, no matter how different they look. Unless if they start to hallucinate, have nightmares, and their eyes glow. Then don't worry. It just means that Bell's got a job to do.

Stuck in a repeating never ending loop, keeping her cover intact, and trying to remember the past should be easier than trying to figure out why Adler and Woods are fighting over Bell's affection. But considering the day restarts once she dies, Bell's gonna have a long time to think about who she really wants in her bedroom. That and to figure out why a deaf man would be on Weaver's radar.

Escaping from Adler and his abuse after Solovetsky was hell. Embracing a friendship with Weaver was calming. Helping her escape her simulation prison was complicated. Losing her in a dark ather portal to escape Adler's possessiveness was heartbreaking. Price being given an old receiver that starts picking up an signal from when him and his team are out on a assignment is going to reveal what Weaver was keeping hidden.

I have alot of ideas and not enough time to write it✍

#cod cold war #russell adler #frank woods #fanfics #jason hudson #writing #cod mw22 #john price #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #cod zombies #black ops cold war #dimitri belikov #send me asks #ao3 writer #russell adler x bell #russell adler x reader #frank woods x reader #cod x reader

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bruhhhh-huhhhhh · 1 year

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CoD Cold War Masterlist

Alex Mason

Nothing yet

Lawrence Sims

Nothing yet

Frank Woods

Nothing yet

Helen Park

Nothing yet

Russel Adler

Nothing yet

Lazar Azuolay

Nothing yet

Jason Hudson

Nothing yet

#cod cold war #cod cold war x reader #alex mason x reader #cod black ops cold war #lawrence sims x reader #frank woods #frank woods x reader #helen park #helen park x reader #russell adler x reader #russell adler #lazar azuolay #lazar azuolay x reader #jason hudson #jason hudson x reader

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leavemealoneplsandthx · 4 months

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Hey guys!

Hopefully some of you made the switch to the black ops side since I made my last post!!

I just thought I would add a link to my own story on ao3! Some of the chapters are better than others but this is the first fanfic I’ve written since 2015 so just keep that in mind 😚

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animefreak1145 · 2 months

Text

Church Bells(Adler x Bell!Reader x Woods)

Previous Intel

Seventh Intel | Outbreak

Description:

The world ended for Bell after Cuba.

The whole world followed soon after.

Zombies AU | Drabble Format

Words: 2.7k

A/N: I’m really bad at drabbles. I’m trying.

▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▛ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▟ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚

Your throat burned, a hand clawing to your neck to try to stop it.

“Sims! What’s wrong with the line to Washington?” A voice that was never your friend, or something almost more, called out from beyond the medical room(were they doing intramuscular shots? You mistaking being sore from missions but instead, it was for the lie.) Your stomach coiled low in your gut, cold sweat not faltering from creating more perspiration in your body. “You sure you dialed it right?”

“What kind of question is that, man? I can dial the number in my sleep!” He never liked you. He would stare at you like you were a stranger when your friendly eyes met his. Can a friend hurt your feelings if all they saw in you was an enemy? Your chest heaved as you sat in the gurney, you can feel Park’s hand to your back, rubbing. “Something must be going on. Hudson had to step out while we were doing this shit show. They called him when Bell was passed out.”

“Shit…” the voice, always low and gravelly and comforting and casual and—

Bile is climbing up your throat and you push Park away so doesn’t get it on her shoes. Acid in your throat and tears running down your cheeks at the forceful gags and vomit on the grey floor.

“Bell?” Park with her British accent, motherly holds your forehead up as you coughed and hacked and she shushes you in comfort before turning her attention back to the commotion outside. You can’t take this fake concern for your well being. “You don’t think Perseus sent out the signal, Adler? We would’ve been dead by now along with all of Europe.”

“No, no, it sounded like something else.” Sims replied, expression in deep critical thinking of whatever happened with Hudson—he never trusted you, why would he? You’re a Red—and his sudden disappearance. “It sounded like they were going to send a helo or aircraft for him.”

“But for what?” Russell intoned. (Too friendly. Not a first name basis. Was he playing you like a fiddle? No. A marionette.) “Hudson isn’t that much of an impatient bastard to just leave without seeing if we got an answer or not. No…this is something big.” Adler rubbed his chin before looking back up at Sims. “Did you happen to catch anything else?”

Your world turned on its axis, and no one here seems to care. Your head was bowed, hands on your knees as you were bent over. Your left eye pounding out your socket. Trying to catch your breath—catch Perseus. All for Perseus. Everyone here is a liar. Oh God. Just die why don’t you?

“You’re still one of us.”

You shook the hand he touched violently, not caring at Park’s bewildered glance at you, eyes burning and red. You wish you can keep retching, perhaps if you wretch enough your heart will climb up your throat, choking you as it temporarily blocks your airway( his hands were around the junction of your jaw, can easily press on your throat, in cruel resemblance to what happened in Lubyanka) with everyone seeing it stuck at the hollow of your throat before you finally cough it up and show you its scars, pumping on the floor weakly and bleeding as spittle went down your chin and then—and then—you’ll crush it yourself instead of the metaphorical way that Russell did.

Sims scoffed, throwing a hand to motion at you before stepping close to Adler, voice low. But you can still hear. You’re still here. This is all real?

“I couldn’t exactly get everything with Bell screaming like that. Jesus,” Sims cried, all animated and getting antsy as his arms moved towards the door of the safehouse. “he probably already left and we didn’t hear it. You didn’t have to go so hard, man!”

Your vision was swimming, but you lolled your head towards their direction, you slowly traveling up to Adler’s expression to see. And you felt like you already knew the answer as you spotted his lips in a flat line, unchanging. Stoic.

“We got the answer, didn’t we?” You closed your eyes tightly, seeing stars in the black. Hand to your left eye, as if the pressure would help having a needle jabbed into it. You heard steps come closer to you distantly. Step. Step. Step. A quiet voice. “Hey. Up and at ‘em, Bell. Let’s get you some Zofran before you keep staining the floor.”

Your eyes flew open.

“Woah!” Sims cried.

You skittered back, eyes wide and chest a drum as you fell onto the floor. Not caring if your own fluids got on you as you used your elbows and feet to stay away, head hitting the back wall with the threat of cracking your head open from the force.

Away from the hand that tried to reach out to you, the hand that just ghosted your shoulder, the hand the fed you when you couldn’t yourself back in ‘Nam due to an injury where both your arms were toast, the hand that touched your shoulders, or fingers ghosting your neck when a stray piece of hair got in front of your face, the hand that was to your cheek and pushed you onto the desk and would’ve kept going if not for the mission, the hand that gave you a needle to the eye and tortured you and disguised it as love.

You stared at the hand that was still raised, refusing to meet Adler’s eyes—you can’t, you can’t meet his eyes, that shockingly electric blue only to be met with ice if you looked—your hands clenching tightly on the ground, your jaw clenched as your expression shifted. You turned your gaze to Adler’s throat, steady and burning.

You swallowed as if you can taste it in your imagination.

“Mmm.” Adler’s hand fell and without you even looking, you can tell he’s darkly amused without even having to smirk.“We’ve known each other for years.” “What’s that look for? A bit dramatic.”

“Adler!” Park came to your defense, blocking your view from Adler and Adler to you. (Your mouth was closed, but you played the back of your teeth with your tongue. You rip my heart out, I’ll take your throat. Your chest ached, an oxymoron occurring, your drug addled mind creating a vision of you kissing his throat.) “With Bell’s mind abused as it is, we don’t need your sharp barbs to add to it. She’s suffered enough. She needs to get her energy back for Solovetsky.”

“On that, we can agree, Agent Park.” Adler cooly replied, taking out a cigarette and filling the room with the scent of it. “Just because we’re sitting ducks waiting on Washington, doesn’t mean we can’t set up everything else here on our end. Let’s—“

“—everyone stay in your homes. This is not a drill—“

Everyone started at the German woman’s voice, including you as your eyes went past Adler, past the door, to the radio by the TV you used to play with. (Huh, that’s funny. Russell really doesn’t want to hear Russian from the radio.) You saw the TV turn on, with a ring of a bell, showing soldiers and tanks and—you forcefully turned your head away before you threw up again.

“Turn up the volume, Sims.”

The trio came closer to the radio, Adler’s cigarette being abused as smoke curled above him while you slowly got up and stayed in the doorway of the medical room, eyes downcast.

“There are reports of a virus that are making people violent and aggressive. Some say cannibalistic but do not worry, for government agencies are already on top of it—“

“What? Chemical warfare…?!” Sims tsked, taking his hat off to rub his head and pace away. “I thought we were done with all that in Vietnam!”

“It would be more precisely biological warfare. Since they mentioned a virus,” Park expertly corrected, her mind going a mile a minute despite the injuries she sustained in Cuba. “This must be what Hudson got called to.”

“Bioterrorism.” Adler stated matter of factly, cigarette in his hand before he took another long and meaningful drag. Hiding his stress despite his calm mien. “A bit overkill if this is from Perseus. Right, Bell?”

You weren’t even paying attention to the call of your name, eyes wide as a realization was slowly coming over you.

Did they say…cannibalistic? Your mind flashed to that tunnel to the ground, ignoring Russell’s guidance during that trip to the hell of your mind, where you saw…you saw dead soldiers rise. Is this real?

“—it is not clear yet where this virus came from. But it is worldwide.” The group tensed. “Not only in our area of Berlin, but even in East Berlin. Poland. Italy. Spain. Ukraine. Vietnam. The United Kingdom and the United States. All with the same. People violent and aggressive whoever is infected. Don’t leave your homes or if you found a safe area, stay in it until help comes. Care packages are already being organized for everyone until this lockdown is done—“

Park turned on the TV, you hearing the static before it flashed on, the emergency broadcast signal on and piercing your ears with the alarm. But you can look at the TV now that it is on(not on from your imagination, your mind, “damaged goods.”)

“Find another channel,” Adler commanded, voice growing tense along with his shoulders, but Park was already on it.

Flipping through channels with the same broadcast emergency signal, some with text in the bottom saying the same thing the woman in the radio was, before finally there was one with a camera that was knocked over in the street. All the view they could get was a puddle of blood, of screams and cries and of guttural groans and moans and—is this real? Are you awake? Are you still in the gurney?

“Oh sweet baby Jesus, Mary and ever fuckin’ Joseph!” Sims cursed, eyes blown and wide and you think this is it. Sims therapy sessions and the work they’ve done have gone out the window because the soldier seems to be cracking at the seams, and him holding his head is what’s keeping him together. “Is this shit real?” Before he finished asking, he stepped up to the TV, Park moving to give him way as he changed through channels himself. Showing the same. Except one showed a person on the floor, dead and lifeless but with what appeared to be three people crouched over them and eating their guts, blood around their mouth and disgusting slurps could be heard.

Something was stirring in Adler’s mind, you could tell even from the distance, the way he pauses with the cigarette to his mouth. The way he tilts his head lazily just so in your direction.

Please. Don’t.

“Sims.” Adler called and the call brought Sins out of his fearful stupor, blinking it away and trying to be the soldier he was back in MACV-SOG. “Remind me. What was Scenario 17?”

“What—Russ, you gotta be fucking joking.” Sims made a motion to the TV, pointing animatedly at it as he went on. “You can’t be serious right now. We have more important things going on than the hoops and jumps we did for Bell!”

“Right. But something is itching at me about all that,” Russell toned, casual and that’s where your heart was starting to thunder because it was the forceful casual. Your back met the wall outside the medical room, and you wished to be swallowed in it because no, no, no. “Scenario 17 was one of the scenarios where Bell entered a tunnel which eventually would’ve been one of the paths to enter that red door she created in her mind for Perseus. But something…unknown occurred during it.”

“You mean how she wasn’t following your instructions like the good little American you created her to be?” Park sarcastically quipped, arms crossed. “Shocking indeed. How irritating for the one forced to heel decides to bite back.”

“Funny.” Adler replied, poker faced. “No. I’m talking about what Bell kept saying over and over when it was happening, what she was seeing, until she said…”(“The dead is rising, they’re rising, and chasing me in the tunnels and I can’t see and I can’t—my pistol can’t get them all and the dead killed me! The dead killed me! The dead killed me!” ) Park’s and Sims eyes swam in recollection gazes towards you but that’s not the ones you’re concerned about. Adler turned his shaded gaze towards you and pinned you to the wall. Russell didn’t need to choke you with his hands, his presence felt from a few feet was starting to choke you. “Bell. Throw me a bone here. You know anything about this? I couldn’t help but notice the radio didn’t mention Russia as one of the countries attacked.”

“How would I?” Adler’s lips only pressed together in disbelief, the ghost of disappointment being seen by your eyes and the look made your chest ache but—why are you aching and hurting for that man? (Rip his disappointment out with your hands.) “Please. Believe me, Adler! I don’t—I don’t know why I saw that—I didn’t see any of this mentioned behind the Red Door with Perseus! It—it must’ve been just a nightmare from everything with Vietnam! Please!”

Please don’t do that again, your crying eyes begged, trying to meet his eyes but is it for naught for America’s Monster who smells blood in the water? And what blood you have.

That irresistible Red.

“I wanna believe you, Bell,” Adler began, friendly and walking up to you. (Can someone kill me? Let me out from this nightmare!) “You’re still one of us after all. So I see no reason why you would lie or hold out anymore on us either. But…” Adler stood in front of you, a mere foot away but to you it was as if he was over you in the gurney again, hand to your throat, to your jaw, to squeezing your cheeks together cruelly. “That sounds awful lot like a coincidence. You know my views on perfect coincidences, Bell.”

You’re stuck.

He’s gonna stick you again and Park and Sims won’t stop him. He got them on his side perfectly. Had the perfect set up. (Beethoven with lightning across his face and the keys he pressed created perfected thunder.) Park may be smart, but she can easily become his piece on the board if handled right. (A mere music note in this elaborate play. What a character you are.) And what are you, really? A disposable red pawn that even isn’t supposed to be here.

You’re stuck about getting stuck with another needle and damn it all, you would do the same thing.

“Bell?” Your breath hitched, seeing he was closer and your chests were almost touching, ghosting and his head was over yours and—what you would’ve done to have this before—“Come on. What’s it gonna be?” His breath ghosted your face, nicotine heavy and he must’ve thrown the cigarette down at one point because it’s gone but all you taste and smell is his scent and you looked up, hopelessly lost, despair marring you, that itch of violence deafened when he’s so close—you can perfectly see the shape of his eyes and the color from here and that itch is back, snatch the shades and reach your hands to his eyes and scoop them out— Adler rose a brow above his shades, humored intrigue (there’s something else stirring in those eyes that can be deceivingly soft) as his voice lowered so the others wouldn’t hear. Like a secret. “There’s that look again. Even now, at this very moment, Bell? You should go get checked out.”

You didn’t reply. You couldn’t. (What does he see?) Because there was a shot that rang out outside. Multiple shots. And than crash against the side garage door of the safehouse. All of you jumping, pulse hammering in your necks as you all moved a step. What could it be? Is it one of those dead?

“Y’all better be fucking alive in there and open this fuckin’ door right now!”

You gasp, stilling.

Woods.

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A/N: A little peek into Bell’s mind post MK Ultra, LSD, Adrenaline(jeez, how many drugs they laced them with?) sticks and reveal. Mix that with the reveal of zombies and even possibly being the cause for COD zombies storyline—it’s a bad time for Bell. A lot of conflicting voices and emotions in her heart and head.

Adler here, if one can’t tell from past chapters, is really toxic in this story. Epitome of Dark!Adler mixed with “softness”.

I’m not gonna shy away from Park’s and Sim’s roles as well with Bell. We can put all the blame on Adler as a fandom as much as we want, but I blame everyone else as well for allowing him to be so openly harsh on Bell. Hope you enjoyed!

Tag List: @tr1ppylady @parkeepingparker @weirdoartist21 @gojocat247 @mayaibnlaahad @dallmaistir @salvija @kylezkie4adler @asaltryefl @stupid-stinky @aurora-windu @zachfoxx121 @pyxis-stellae

You have to tell me if you want me to tag you for each update or else I won't know. Or if you wish to be removed.

#russell adler #call of duty #black ops cold war #cod #cod cold war #church bells #writing bell #cod bell #frank woods #alex mason #helen park #russell adler x bell #russell adler x reader #frank woods x bell #frank woods x reader #cod zombies #Lawrence sims #Grigori weaver #jason hudson

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quizzyisdone · 2 years

Text

Take On Me | Fem! Bell Reader x Frank Woods

A/N: Hi!! I know it has been forever since I post for BOCW and honestly, I miss it a lot. Adult life just doesn't really lend itself well to having creative hobbies (shocking). But here's a little something for Valentine's Day that definitely is not projection at all :) Masterlist Pairing: Fem! Bell Reader x Frank Woods Word Count: 3.2k Synopsis: Woods has always hated Valentine's Day -- it's just a pathetic marketing gimmick for big businesses to take your money and for society to make you feel bad if you spend it alone. Bell, on the other hand, would beg to differ. Warnings: Strong language, mentions of alcohol, Woods is a jackass at one point but don't worry he makes up for it

*Title inspired by Take On Me, by a-ha

You walked glumly down the sidewalk, attempting to avert your eyes from the restaurants that lined the streets, young couples all enjoying a nice Valentine’s Dinner inside. Even the damn weather was romantic.

Light flurries of snow cascading around everyone, intricate snowflakes landing delicately in your hair and onto your coat. It wasn’t bone-chilling cold either, perfect for a stroll down the street, holding hands with the one you loved. Warm yellowish hues from inside the various buildings emanated onto the street, along with the sound of laughter and idle chatter as well. It would’ve been the perfect atmosphere to set the mood for a date with Woods. The idyllic late winter day.

You clutched the brown paper bag filled with his favorite beer to your chest, careful so as not to drop it. It was your little Valentine’s Day gift, small and inconsequential enough to play off as just a kind gesture and completely not at all related to the present holiday. Admittedly, your feelings were a little hurt when Woods had gone off on a sarcastic tangent about how much he hated Valentine’s Day the other day and that it was just a stupid corporate holiday.

He was kind of right, but it was still fun to celebrate, at least for you. A nice little date, free from the worries of either of your jobs or maybe at least a gift from Woods would have been nice. You two had never even been in the same state, or even country for that matter, during the holiday since you started dating.

Maybe missing Valentine’s Day was kind of your fault anyways, since after his little joking tangent both of you agreed not to celebrate or do anything -- it was just a normal day. Ironic, considering a day with Woods could scarcely be considered normal due to your work with the CIA and his with the Marines. A normal day wasn’t getting called into work and both of you just sitting on the couch, too exhausted to truly spend time with each other in a manner other than physically being in the same room.

Truthfully, life had been rather boring lately, your relationship wasn’t missing love per se, but it was missing that old excitement.

You turned off of the street and into the apartment building where you shared a flat with Woods. After climbing up two flights of stairs and finding your door, you reached into your coat pocket for your keys, opening to the door to find Woods putting his own jacket on and grabbing the keys to his truck.

“Hey babe.” He said, barely giving you a glance in acknowledgment as he tied his boots.

“Hi.” You said, confused and frowning. You crossed your arms. “Where are you going?”

“Oh, over to this dive bar with Adler, he just got back into town, thought I’d get a drink with him.” Woods explained, none the wiser to how upset you were. You harshly placed down the brown bag. “Uh, what’s in the bag?” He asked.

“Something I got for you. I wanted to do something nice for you.” You crossed your arms and put on the angriest expression you could muster to hide how defeated you felt. He opened it, revealing a six pack of his favorite imported beer, very difficult and expensive to get in America. Instead of a smile and a thank you, he furrowed his brows, frowning.

“We weren’t supposed to get each other anything.”

“It wasn’t for Valentine’s Day. It was meant to be a nice gesture” You spat, stomping off and into the living room adjacent to the foyer. “Not even a fucking thank you.” You whispered under your breath.

“Thank you?” He yelled from the other room, following you, now clearly just as angry as you. “We agreed not to get anything for each other. I don’t fucking want your gift if you’re just going to be an ass about it.”

“I went to seven different liquor stores across the entire Philadelphia city limit in the snow and paid nearly fifty dollars for a six pack of special imported beer that you’d go through in one sitting because I knew this was your favorite and now you don’t want it. Some gratitude would be nice. ”

“Why would I want it if you’re gonna act like a bitch?” Woods bellowed. ‘Bitch’ had hit a nerve, he had never called you that before, but then again the two of you never got into any bad arguments before. Regardless, you stood your ground.

“Maybe I’m acting like a bitch because your first response was to chastise and question me for getting you a present and now you’re yelling at me.”

“I didn’t even want to celebrate Valentine’s!”

“Maybe I did because I never get to be with you anymore, you’re always too tired or too busy to fucking be my partner.” Your pitch became quieter and you suddenly became aware of the tears streaming down your cheeks in a torrential downpour. “You haven’t touched me in forever. I miss you. I wanted to celebrate it with you, I never got to experience any of this.” You said through clenched teeth.

Evidently, the tears did not sway Woods, as he continued yelling.

“Well I have and it’s not that fun. Sorry I’m exhausted from saving the entire fucking free world, Bell.” He retorted.

You scoffed.

“Get off your fucking soapbox, Woods. You and I do the exact same thing, and I still make time for you.” You turned your body away from him facing the wall, not even wanting to see him. “It’d be nice if you could do that for me too.”

“I do!” He explained, almost childlike in his declaration -- like a toddler so boldly claiming that the sky was green because he said so.

“When was the last time you even took me out when it wasn’t my idea?” Woods paused, attempting to remember (to which he couldn’t). “See? You don’t even remember. Go and hang out with your buddy, don’t bother coming back if you don’t want me anymore. I’ll get the hint.” You said dejectedly, walking off to your bedroom but stealing a glance at Woods, who only glared daggers at you, brows furrowed, looking almost annoyed with you.

You lightly shut your bedroom door the exact moment Woods slammed the front door shut, the vibration of which could be felt against the wall and you could hear a distant clang and glass shatter. You placed your back against the wood, slowly sliding down into the floor and placing your head between your knees, sobbing.

You instantly regretted that ultimatum you just gave him, Woods was the only person you have after MK-Ultra, while he had everyone. He didn’t need you, you needed him. To ground you, to keep you sane.

---------

Woods stomped off to his truck, angrily shoving the key into the ignition. The drive to the bar was erratic and rage-filled, as he gripped the steering wheel with an iron clasp and swore under his breath, muttering counter arguments that he could’ve used in an attempt to justify his actions.

Arriving at the bar, he slammed the door shut, scanning the front of the building for Adler, whom he found almost immediately, nursing a cigarette as per usual. The person who stood next to him, however, utterly enraged Woods. Fucking Hudson.

Despite himself, Woods strided to where they were standing, waiting for him.

“Hey Adler.” He greeted the scarred man. Adler nodded back in acknowledgement.“The fuck you doing here, Hudson?”

“Well aren’t you in a great fuckin’ mood.” Hudson retorted, jabbing Woods’s shoulder. “Come on, we can argue inside when we’re sat down and drunk.”

Woods reluctantly obliged him, opening the door and scanning the room for a table, considering the bar was completely full. He found a high top table and sat down, beckoning for a server, for which he ordered three whiskeys and a round of shots for the table.

Silence ensued for a brief moment before Adler broke it.

“So why the hell are you in a bad mood this time, Woods?” He asked, exasperated in a way that indicated that it wasn’t so uncommon for the sergeant to swing by in a sour mood. Woods immediately went on the defensive.

“The more important question is why the fuck Hudson is here? Don’t you have a wife and kids to celebrate Valentine’s with? She pissed at you too?” Woods spat, and Hudson sighed deeply.

“So that’s what this is about.” Adler chuckled to himself.

“If you have to know, Jenny’s not in town right now,” He explained. “Few days ago she was really upset and needed a vacation, so I told her I’d watch the kids while she went down to her mother’s house for some alone time.”

“Oh and so I guess you just left the kids at home by themselves.” Woods retorted, realizing belatedly that his statement was a bit unfair. For all his faults, he had always known the man to be a devoted husband and father. Hudson rolled his eyes.

“What kind of father do you take me for? This sixteen year old girl down the street needed some pocket money so I’m paying her to babysit them. Happy?” He rolled his eyes and Woods let the matter drop. “So now that I’ve answered your question, what has put you in an even worse mood than usual? Is it Bell?” Hudson asked.

Woods groaned. “Yes, okay? We got into a fight.”

“About?” Adler beckoned Woods to explain.

“Well,” He began. “So a few weeks back, right? I went off on some rant that Valentine’s Day is stupid and we agreed to not celebrate it. But today I guess she went back on her word and got me a gift and made me look like an asshole for not getting her anything. Then we got into a fight. That’s it.”

“That can’t be it.” Hudson scoffed. This time it was Woods’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Fine.” He huffed. “Words were… exchanged.”

“And what the hell exactly did you say to her?” Adler piped up. Woods rolled his eyes again, slamming his beer bottle down.

“Fine.” He huffed, beginning to regale every single gritty detail of a five minute fight, seeing as Hudson and Adler would’ve pried everything out of him some way or another. Throughout his story, Woods kept stuttering over his words, pausing, taking deep breaths. He still couldn’t get over that ultimatum.

“You called her a bitch?” Hudson stared at Woods, his eyes glaring daggers.

“That was your first mistake.” Adler snickered.

“No, that was his hundredth mistake. Your first mistake, Woods, was ranting about Valentine’s Day in the first place.” Hudson paused, noticing the very displeased expression of the man across from him. Not wanting to get into a bar fight tonight, he chose his next words carefully. “Hear me out, I can tell you every reason why you’re wrong, if you want. If you don’t, that’s fine. Drink your pain away and let your relationship with Bell go down the drain.”

Tense silence filled the air as Woods retreated back into his head. He certainly hates Hudson, doesn’t think the man does a damn thing right, but he’s been married for the better half of a decade for a reason, right? Woods slowly nodded his head, it couldn’t hurt to hear the man out, and besides, even in his rage, even after the ultimatum you gave him, losing one of the only people he actually cared about was one he couldn’t bear.

“Okay. Well, as we all well know, Bell doesn’t remember anything about her life.” Hudson glanced at Adler, who suddenly found a keen interest in the glass of whiskey in front of him. “And in the past three years, she hadn’t been able to celebrate any holiday other than Christmas last year because of schedules. Everything is a first for her, making it special to her. So your first mistake was ranting about Valentine’s Day.”

“Wh- How?” Woods sighed.

“Jesus Christ you’re so fucking dense.” Hudson mumbled to himself, rubbing his forehead. “It’s her first and she has someone who she loves dearly to celebrate it with. Probably felt like a gut punch. And still yet, she tried to make it special in spite of you. You practically spat on her for it. You called her a bitch and yelled instead of just accepting it and spending the night with her. That’s all she wanted.”

Oh. Maybe he was onto something.

“You are all Bell has.” Hudson stressed, the way he was explaining the situation to Woods, you would think he has experienced this exact situation. Perhaps he has, Woods did find that break up letter to Hudson from some girl like fifteen or so odd years ago. “And she’s probably feeling pretty neglected.”

“So why do you all of the sudden like Bell?” Adler asked, shame from the mention of what he did to you still painted on his expression.

“I like her well enough, and she’s proven herself.” Hudson took a sip from his drink and laughed softly. “But I like proving Woods wrong more.”

“Shut the fuck up, baldilocks.” Woods grumbled and Adler snorted, while Hudson let out a small chuckle at the creative insult. “I’ve gotta go.”

Unceremoniously, Woods removed himself from the high barstool, fumbling in his pocket for his wallet. He placed a twenty on the table, leaving without a word.

“Y’know he’s never gonna admit that sometimes you’re right.” Adler said, a cigarette between his teeth as he popped open his zippo lighter.

“I know.”

Woods glanced down at his watch as he approached the door to your shared apartment. It was only seven when he left. Fuck. He hoped you might still be awake. As quietly as he could, with a bouquet in one hand and his keys in the other, he unlocked the door.

“Bell?” He whispered, hoping to hear at least a TV or the radio playing. Instead, it was dark, with only a small glow emanating from the oven light in the kitchen. “Babe?”

No answer. Shit. He set his keys down on the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room and turned on a lamp. Gingerly, he made his way to your shared bedroom, opening the door softly.

On the bed, he found you asleep, facing towards the door and your hand lazily resting on the pillow on his side. He sighed, it was clear you had fallen asleep crying, your eyes puffy and cheeks red even in sleep. Woods took off his boots, setting down the bouquet on the nightstand.

As stealthily as a man of his size could manage, he crawled into bed, facing towards you. He held the hand that was resting on his side in his own hand, bringing it to his, softly kissing your knuckle.

“Bell.” He rested his free hand on your hip, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs. Woods smiled softly as your eyes fluttered awake. Instead of returning his soft gestures, you simply grumbled, taking back your hand and flipping over on your other side. He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t that. “Baby, I’m sorry.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re drunk. Go to bed, you'll feel differently in the morning.” You said, sniffling and barely audible.

“I didn’t drink anything. Baby girl, I am so fucking sorry.” He scooched closer to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you flush to his form. “I’m sorry for complaining about Valentine’s, I’m sorry for the beer, I’m sorry for calling you a bitch, I’m sorry for being a fucking jackass to my girl.”

Silence ensued for a few minutes, only interrupted with your occasional sniffle. You sighed, sitting up and facing towards him. You gave a sad smile.

“Frank, I just want us to be normal.” Your voice cracked as the tears began again. “I don’t want this shitty military stuff anymore. I just want to be a normal couple who does normal couple things.”

“Oh, baby girl. Honey, I am so sorry.” He shushed as he sat up, holding you in his arms so tightly, as if he was afraid you’d shatter into dust and leave him forever if he didn’t.

“Baby, we can be normal. I’ll take you to the movies, I’ll take you on more dates, I’ll bring you flowers, I’ll win you the biggest stuffed animal at the fair, I’ll even celebrate Valentine’s Day with you.” He kissed your temple, pulling you even closer as sobs racked your body. “Please, I just need you in my life.”

“Please don’t ever leave me.” You whimpered.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.” He held you, strong and steadfast, guilt from the events that transpired earlier sweeping over him. “I couldn’t live without you. God, I’m so fucking sorry, baby girl.”

“Me neither.” The two of you remained there, locked in an embrace and peacefully silent. For hours, you felt as if he was going to leave you, and without him, you’d quite literally have nothing. Without him, you’d have to crawl back to the man that hurt you the most.

To have the normally gruff, brash Marine sergeant here, admitting to you how much he needed you in his life, it almost felt that for once in your life, that you were a normal person. Not some brainwashed freak.

“I got you a present.” He pulled his head back to look at you. A soft smile creeped across your features. “It’s not as good as those beers you got me,” He reached over the nightstand, presented the bouquet of flowers. “And it took me forever to find, considering every florist was either closed or sold out. But you deserve this, and so much more.”

“Oh, Frank. They’re perfect. Thank you so much.” You gave him a quick peck, looking over the bouquet with a proud smile on your face. Your first flowers from him.

“Bell, I also have a very important question for you.” He smiled earnestly at how your eyes were lit up, just from flowers. You nodded, beckoning him to ask. “Will you be my Valentine?”

Your happiness turned into straight glee as you practically exploded with joy.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” You exclaimed, pushing him down and straddling him. You giggled and peppered his face with little kisses all over as he grinned, chuckling along with you. “Of course I will.” You said softly, pulling back as you placed the flowers on your side’s nightstand.

You returned to his side, cuddling up flush against his chest as he smiled down at you, like today never even happened. Your hands drew small circles on his chest and you sighed contentedly, this was a feeling that you had missed these past few months. Just you and Woods -- nothing else.

“Baby?” He hummed. You let your eyes close, the threat of sleep drawing ever near.

“M’yeah?”

“We’ll do something more fun tomorrow, okay?” Woods grinned as he also let his eyes close, pulling you even tighter towards him.

“This is good enough for me.” You lazily smiled against his chest.

So needless to say I'm odds and ends But I'll be stumbling away Slowly learning that life is okay

#pls excuse the title but tbh idc if the song is a giant meme #the lyrics just fit a wood x bell ship so nicely #frank woods #frank woods x reader #frank woods x bell #russell adler #jason hudson #bocw #black ops cold war #cod #call of duty #quizzy writes

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