#cod:bocw

[darlingor]

Repose

Russell Adler x female OC

Her eyes popped open, peering into the inky darkness of their bedroom. It wasn’t his labored breathing or the twitching of his muscles that woke her. It was a shift in the air, a heaviness that settled in the room when his dreams became too dark. She didn’t know how she became attuned to this subtle shift in the atmosphere, but perhaps it was because she knew him like no other, because their souls were tied by some invisible string.

She stayed perfectly still, keeping her breathing rhythmic even as he writhed. She knew better now. His chest was pressed against her back, arm heavy over her waist, tightening every once in a while when a memory hurt a little too badly. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, praying he would tear himself free from the depths of his troubled mind soon.

She didn’t wake him, she couldn’t, he’d forbade her. She’d tried it once, years ago, early on when things still felt like a fantasy, before the horrors of his life and work had touched her. She’d felt the sudden movements, heard the quiet groans. So she did what any decent person would do and tried to wake him. She was gentle, of course, but it didn’t change the fact that he was a live grenade just counting down. A soft shake to the shoulder and a whisper of his name was enough to wake him, but not fully. She sat up on the bed, looming over him, but his eyes almost looked through her. And in a second her world was tilting, feeling her body being flipped over roughly as he straddled her, pinning her arms to the bed.

It wasn’t until she’d said his name repeatedly in that frantic voice, eyes brimming with tears, that he finally regained consciousness. He rolled off her, feeling like the scum of the earth because he’d forgotten to tell her. How could he have forgotten?

“Don’t ever wake me.”

She’d never heard him so serious, not directly to her, and even through the darkness she could see the sharpness in his blue eyes. If he ever hurt her, the guilt would eat him alive, she knew that. She went along with it, not because she was scared of him, but because he was.

So she laid still, listening to his whimpers, trying to convince herself it was for the best.

She knew he was awake at the hitch in his breath. Everything in the room went still until his tense muscles relaxed into the bed, and his breath left his lungs in one big exhale. Almost hesitantly, she felt the arm thrown over her waist shift, his hand pulling back to slide up her body, painfully slow. When he reached her shoulder, his fingers ghosted down her arm, his touch coaxing goosebumps onto her skin. He moved further and further, until he finally reached her wrist.

His hand wrapped around, two fingers coming to press against her pulse point. Even after being tortured by his own mind and left to claw his way back out, he was still so, so gentle with her. And slowly, the steady thump of her heartbeat beneath his fingers brought him a peace she could never understand. It grounded him, told him she was safe, that he was alive. She was his solace, his lighthouse when the nightmares and the memories and the weight of it all became too much, too dark. And in a way, it brought her peace as well. Being a civilian, she found there was little she could do to protect this trained killer, who had walked through hell and back over and over. But this. This was her protection, her purpose.

After some time she felt his breathing even out once again, his grip going slightly slack, but he didn’t pull back, he never did. She hated that she couldn’t do more, that he was left to endure this pain alone. But he didn’t see it that way, and if something as simple as her heartbeat could soothe his war torn thoughts, she’d lay there with him for as long as it took.

———————————————————————————

Wow I still write who knew? Want to try something different with this. Following Russell and his wife Scottie. I want each “chapter” to be a different moment in their relationship, moments from the past and the present, just bouncing around. We’ll see how this goes. Keeping it short for now.

And consider this a late birthday present :) @ladysouthpaw1213

[darlingor]

a littl birdie told me that you got some fics cooking in the kitchen, is that true?

Not anything big, just tackling requests for now. But I’m hoping to get back to writing for Long Past Dawn this summer!

[darlingor]

Adler: You’re so funny please don’t go bald

Stitch:

Stitch: Stabs him*

[darlingor]

hi, this is my first request but could you do a Adler x Bell!Reader/Bell where they are tending each other wounds post mission? Maybe establish relationships as well?

Loved this request and so sorry it’s taken so long to get to it! College was kicking my ass, but I’m hoping to get back to writing this summer! Hope the story measures up!

Scars Between Us- request

It’d been a rough one, which was to be expected. Breaking into the KGB was no small feat, and everyone knew it would be nearly impossible to make it out unscathed. Bell sat in the back seat of the getaway car, sinking into the plush seats, feeling her sore muscles begin to relax. With Lazar behind the wheel, she didn’t have to worry about a thing. Well, except for Adler of course.

He was seated next to her, completely silent and staring straight ahead out of the windshield. It was typical of Adler to be quiet following a mission, especially one so crucial to locating Perseus and the missing nukes. What was unusual, however, was the way his right hand stayed clutched onto his left side, how his jaw was clenched so tight Bell thought it must be painful, and his breathing, deep and measured, like he was focusing on it a little too much. Alarm bells went off in her head, her hands starting to fidget nervously in her lap.

Her eyes were glued to Adler, and after a moment, he met her gaze. He was without his usual aviators, having removed them inside the KGB, and she found herself looking directly into his eyes. Despite that, she found she couldn’t read a thing off him, and that almost made her more anxious. He didn’t say a word, didn’t move a muscle, just stared at her with those blue eyes for a moment before facing forward again. There wasn’t much they could say in this car, what with Lazar and Belikov being present, and they both knew staying silent would be the safer option. What Bell could never know, however, was that Adler was just as worried about her.

Of course he’d noticed how she practically melted into the car seats, how her face held that twisted expression it always did when she was in pain, and especially how she was more worried about him than about herself. Always so selfless, one thing he simultaneously loved and hated about her. He was itching to get back to the safe house, to hide behind the comforting privacy of a locked door and find whatever wound was causing her pain. But it wasn’t just the two of them, he’d need to keep calm around Lazar and Belikov. He was a strong willed man, he could surely manage to keep his hands to himself for a few hours in the car. But that dull ache in his side was starting to worsen. He could still feel her eyes on him, almost burning into his face.

And without really thinking, he scooted closer to her, spreading his legs to press his thigh against hers. It wasn’t much, and it certainly wasn’t what either party wanted, but it was inconspicuous enough and would have to do. Her head tilted slightly as he did so, never tearing her eyes away. He wasn’t normally one to take risks at all when it came to their relationship, even one this small. It surprised Bell, and of course, heightened her worry. He looked back over to her again, and she could’ve swore she saw the faintest upturn of his lips before he turned away once more.

Hours later, they finally trudged back into the safe house, the rest of the crew having already turned in for the night. Bell went to her room to change, Adler immediately heading to the hallway bathroom. Bell slowly and carefully peeled off her mission clothing, tossing it in a heap on the floor, not particularly caring about the laundry at the moment. She threw on some sweat pants and a tank top before slipping out into the hallway in search of one man. She saw the light on from under the bathroom door, and immediately knew she’d find him there. She gave two gentle knocks before pushing the door open, seeing him standing in front of the sink, shirt removed and a first aid kit on the counter. He looked over to her, his expression softening just slightly.

“I was wondering when you’d come looking.” He spoke in that low voice, exhaustion evident in his words, turning to lean back against the bathroom counter. Bell stepped up to him, her hands immediately moving his arms so she could inspect his side. Her eyes widened when she saw the large bruise blossoming over his ribs, already black and blue. She looked up to him, brows raised in question. “Guy took me by surprise,” he muttered, voice tight. “Jabbed me with the butt of his rifle.”He spoke so matter-of-fact, crossing his arms over his chest. Her fingers ghosted over the skin, cautious, scared to cause him any more pain. She was anxious like that. His skin was warm under her touch, and she didn’t miss the slight wince he tried oh so hard to hide. She found it cute.

“Need an ice pack on this.” She looked up at him, and he could see the worry dancing in her eyes. He couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, his hand moving to her arm.

“It’s nothing to worry yourself this much over.” When he saw her pointed look, he huffed, raising his arms in defense. “There’s a cold pack in the kit.” Bell grabbed the little white box, pulling the ice pack and some wrap out. She pressed the package, feeling it start to freeze in her hand. Without warning, she pressed it against his side, nearly making him jump out of his skin and he shot her a glare. She held back a laugh as she grabbed the bandage, wrapping it around his torso and securing the ice pack.

“All better,” she said, giving the spot a gentle pat. She stepped back as Adler pushed off the counter, letting out a surprised sound when he suddenly grabbed her by the waist, spun around, and sat her up on the countertop.

“Your turn,” he spoke with that aggravating smirk on his face, the one that never failed to make heat crawl up Bell’s neck and cheeks. She watched as his eyes scanned over her body, assessing the damage, seeing what needed his attention. There was a bullet graze on her upper arm, not too deep, she hadn’t even really taken notice of it, but it would need care nonetheless. So he got to work, cleaning it and bandaging it up. And despite her repeated attempts at assuring him she was fine, he made sure to check elsewhere for anymore cuts or scrapes, which he quickly treated.

It never failed to surprise her, just how gentle he was with her. The same hands that killed countless, that perpetrated violence unimaginable to some, were the same hands that ghosted over her skin like a silent apology. Hands that had broken men were now carefully dabbing antiseptic on a cut she felt was too small to fuss over. And this… version of him, the quiet, gentle lover, was a secret she alone got to hold. She’d have it no other way.

Once he was sure he was done, his blue eyes returned to hers. One of his hands went to her thigh, almost absentmindedly. “Thanks,” she breathed, feeling her pulse pick up a bit at his gaze watching her so intently, and maybe his hand placement too. The corners of his lips quirked up in a little smile, his other hand moved to pinch her chin between his fingers, tilting her head up just slightly. Her breath hitched, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in, and placing a gentle kiss on her lips. She practically melted into him, eyes fluttering shut. But it was over far too quickly, and she fought back a whine as he pulled away. He knew what he was doing, the bastard.

“Get some rest,” he whispered against her lips, voice low and slightly husky. And then he was stepping back, his hand sliding off of her thigh as he retreated through the door, heading back to his own room. She sat there a moment, blinking blankly, willing her heart to return to a normal pace, before she returned to her own quarters and promptly passed out on her cot.

[darlingor]

if I may ask, how do you feel about Adler x Park x Bell?

Well I’ve never really thought about the three of them. But I kind of like it. Park being basically the opposite of Adler creates a cool dynamic with Bell.

[darlingor]

I love the idea of Adler being a girl dad

[darlingor]

Adler calling Bell “baby” scratches my brain just right.

[darlingor]

Love the dynamic of a Bell who completely understands what Russell did and why he did it, and an Adler that is so riddled with guilt, but they’re both utterly devoted to each other. Scratches my brain just right.