#bell x park

[efingart]

Just What I Needed - Chapter 25

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Word Count: 5043

Frank Woods x CoD Bell

Frank and Mila go on something that looks a lot like a date, but it isn't a date.

The plastic groaned in protest as Mila pressed the speaker closer to her ear. The record store fell away as the synth beat took hold of her.  It was unlike any music she had ever heard. She could become lost in it. She was used to holding in her feelings, not giving away much that was on her mind. But the sound inexplicably made her want to move.

But how would anyone dance to this?

Mila’s eyes flicked up to the woman behind the counter. She was the one who had set up the tape player for her to listen. The counter was much higher than the floor, likely so she could quickly spot if anyone was pocketing one of the tiny cassette tapes. But for the most part, the woman looked bored. She flipped through some kind of booklet. Like a magazine, but there was a homemade quality to it—splotched black ink across its neon paper cover. The title hand written in black permanent marker. The woman tossed her head to get her pink-streaked bangs out of her eyes before ducking her head back down to read. The pink-streaked bangs fell back into her face.

Mila felt tension on one side of the headphones, drawing her gaze away from the woman. Frank tugged on one of the speakers, pulling it away and leaning into her, turning the speaker towards his own ear to listen.

“You like this?” He asked. His voice was loud as he tried to talk over the music thrumming in his ear. He listened for another moment before turning the speaker back around.

She pulled the headphones off and let them dangle from her neck.

“Yeah. You said I should pick something happier. Can’t get happier than that.”

Frank’s eyes traveled over her face, then he shrugged and turned to the woman behind the counter.

“This one, too,” He said. She didn’t respond, not even a nod. Still, she popped the tape out of the player, putting it back in its jewel case and adding it to the stack of music Mila had already accumulated.

“Anything else?” Frank asked Mila.

She shook her head and neatly placed the headphones on top of the tape player, then pushed the player towards the woman.

He dug into his back pocket for his wallet. Then, he shifted his attention to something behind the woman.

“One of those, too,” He said, pointing to a box on the wall behind her. In her bored way, she turned to the wall, picked up the box, and held it up to verify that it was what he wanted. He gave her a nod, and she began to ring up the items.

“Come with batteries?” He asked her as he studied the box. She shook her head. He sighed. “Course not.”

Mila watched this exchange with some curiosity. She couldn’t quite read the box, and the product name wasn’t giving anything away—something to do with walking. Frank counted out the bills and change, and the woman bagged their purchases.

“All right, come on,” He said, throwing an arm over her shoulder as he guided her out of the store. “Gotta make another stop.”

He pointed to a camera store across the street. In the wide front window, there was a large cardboard display. As they approached, Mila realized it resembled a camera. But not like one she had ever seen. There was a lens and a viewfinder, but the camera's base was long and flat. The design of it was so clunky she couldn’t understand why anyone would want to carry it around. Someone had cut a large slit across the base, and a flat sheet of cardboard with a photograph on it repeatedly slid in and out of the base.

Maybe it was advertising a new kind of development process?

But as she scanned the display she saw that the large camera was surrounded by boxes of the real thing.

She turned to ask Frank about them when she heard a click and a whirring sound. A man was standing in the shop doorway, one of the strange cameras in his hand.

“Just got the brand new model in today. Come in and take a look.”

Having a business owner so invested in speaking to them was odd. But the camera shop likely got its fair share of tourists, which may have motivated him to be friendlier. He handed her the paper that had come out of the camera.

She stared at it and turned it over—blank white on one side and black on the other. However, something was happening on the front of the paper. A splotch of brownish yellow was slowly developing.

“You’ve never seen an instant film camera before?”

She shook her head and tried to hand the paper back to the man, but he waved her off. “It’s yours, keep it.”

Frank interrupted their exchange and asked the man, “You got any batteries?”

The man led him into the small store. Mila stayed outside, watching the display continue its methodical movements.

After a moment, Frank stepped out again and dropped a pack of batteries into the paper bag.

“How’d it turn out?” He asked her, nodding towards the paper in her hand.

She looked down, and to her surprise, she was now holding a photo of her and Frank looking at the display.

“What-”

“Instant film, don’t ask me how it works. Em’s got one of those. She’s constantly taking pictures,” He said, shaking his head. “I’ve gotta have about a hundred of me holding David for the first time. I’ll show you.”

“Instant film,” She repeated and looked longingly at the display. She’d love to have a camera like that. She had enjoyed taking and developing pictures for the various missions the CIA had sent her on. And with her memory, it would be nice to have some kind of physical evidence of her life besides that old photo Frank had found. Feeling Frank’s eyes on her, she blinked and turned away from the display. The nice thing about Frank is that he never asked too many questions. He seemed to know that if she wanted to talk, she’d talk. He plucked the picture from her hands and tucked it into his front shirt pocket, giving the pocket a little pat.

“For safekeeping,” He said. Then he threw his arm back in a wave, gesturing her to keep it moving. “Come on, I’m hungry.”

“Burger Town?” She joked.

“You know I’ll never say no to that. One of these days, we gotta take you somewhere nice, I guess.”

“Not today,” She said.

He chuckled, “Not today.”

They sat at one of the outdoor tables in the sun. She couldn’t remember the last time she spent so much time in the sun. The bag of food was between them, and she watched him reach into it to pull out a burger. His knuckles were turning red, and a smattering of freckles had appeared on his hands. She hadn’t realized he freckled in the sun, but it made sense with his complexion. It gave her a warm feeling just to know something more about him. Something that wasn’t related to his job or military life.

Frank Woods freckles in the sun.

She cataloged the information away in her mind.

Mila reached into the bag for her burger and placed it on the table before her. Then she carefully peeled the wrapper away, smoothing it out on the table and creating a placemat for herself. She thought she heard Frank let out a soft chuckle, but when she glanced up, his soft gaze was focused behind her as he chewed his burger. Mila picked up her burger and was about to eat when a thought occurred to her.

“What’s that thing you bought? That needed batteries?” She asked, nodding towards the paper bag set next to him on the bench.

He held up a finger and reached for his drink as he chewed. Grasping the drink by the lid, two fingers on either side of the straw, he took a long sip.  Then, he set his burger and the drink down and wiped his hands off in his jeans before he opened the bag.

“I figured if you’re gonna have your own music, maybe you don’t want to be tied to the stereo in the living room,” He said. Then, while looking at her pointedly, he added, “You can use the stereo in the living room anytime you want, though.”

When he said that, her eyes moved from the bag next to him to his face. Frank seemed to notice everything. Or maybe he had recognized one of his own habits in her. He knew she was trying to leave the smallest footprint in their apartment. A strategy she employed in the hopes that if he never felt like she was in the way, then her place there was safe. She shifted in her seat, somewhat uncomfortable with the feeling of being so seen by someone else. There was something else, too: comfort.

She ignored it and instead turned her focus back to Frank, who was moving his burger aside so he could place the box in front of him. He pulled out a pocket knife to break open the thick tape, holding the box shut. Then he opened the flap and grabbed hold of what was inside while tipping the box so that gravity would help him ease its contents out.

Inside was a smaller black box surrounded by styrofoam packaging and a small pair of black over-ear headphones. Frank flipped the styrofoam over onto his hand. He tossed the packaging back in the paper bag and dusted off the smaller black box. She could see it was made of heavy plastic. There were buttons on the top. Frank reached back into the paper bag, feeling around momentarily, before producing the pack of batteries. He popped off a panel in the back and put in four batteries. Then he took out one of the cassette tapes, popped its case open, and slipped it into a slot in the front of the box.

He plugged the headphones into the box and handed them to her.

“You can listen anywhere now.”

She put the headphones on. The sound wasn’t as good as in the record store or at the apartment, but it was nice to be able to listen anywhere. She noted he had put in the tape he recommended, Pat Benatar.

You’ll like this one, he had said at the store.

And he was right. She took a bite of her hamburger as she listened. She knew she could definitely enjoy listening while in her room at night. And maybe even between sessions.

“Like it?”

She nodded.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

He waved his hand, dismissing her comment.

“You might as well have some music wherever you want it.”

He stopped the tape.

“Thing drains batteries, though, I’ve got more for you, but just know that.”

She nodded again and removed the headphones. Frank gathered everything up and placed it in the bag.

“So what’s next?”

“I have an idea or two.”

Mila tilted her head curiously at him, but he didn’t elaborate.

Frank seemed to have his destination in mind, but occasionally, he would take them one way and have to backtrack. Then, he’d check the street name and head in the opposite direction. The place he was looking for must have been tucked away. Mila didn’t mind so much. It was good to be out and walking in the city. It had been some time since she had just walked around without purpose or hurry. She glanced around at the other people around them. This is what they did. She had yet to conjure up something more mundane from her adult or teenage years. Always running and fighting. Not being able to show her face in her home country meant long strolls in the park were risky. She had vague memories of spending time in what looked like East Berlin. But had the sense she was still traveling by night, working.

“There,” Frank said in a low voice.

He led her down a narrow side street. On the corner was a small building. Garage-style doors had been installed on either side and now, on this pretty day, they were flung up. She could clearly see the entire establishment from front to back.

She stopped.

“It looks like-”

“Yeah,” Frank said. Then he shrugged. “I kinda got the feeling you wanted to look around that place. And I know you like computers.”

He scratched the back of his head, suddenly seeming uncomfortable.

“Well, these are kind of like computers,” He added.

She nodded, and they walked into the arcade. Inside, the sounds, which were tinny and muted on the street, completely filled the space. The room itself was kept dim, lit by the sunlight outside and the glow of the screen on each machine. Every cabinet was painted with brightly colored characters. As she looked at the displays, she realized that these were what the players were supposed to imagine the tiny pixelated characters to be. Again, it was like nothing she had ever experienced before.

Being in the arcade brought back memories of the fake American town, and she wondered if small towns in America really did look like that. Many small towns in the movies she watched looked similar as well. The cinema, Burger Town, and arcade all together around a tiny town square. She knew it would be unlikely she’d ever get to see a place like that. Unlikely, she’d ever leave West Berlin, unless they were shipping her off to some prison to lock her away forever.

Mila pushed the thoughts from her mind and approached a free cabinet. She watched the looping demo of what must have been a car racing along a track that never seemed to end. Several cars whizzed by the player's car until one crashed into it. A computerized grinding sound filled her ears. The screen went black.

“You ever play one of these?” Mila asked Frank.

He shook his head.

“Heard it rots your brain or something,” He joked. “Come on, let’s go get some tokens.”

As they waited in line, he pointed to a game that involved a sloped wooden track with numbered holes at the top.

“Now that’s more my speed. Skee-ball.” When he was met with her blank stare, he clarified, “It’s like bowling. You do know bowling, right?”

She shook her head.

“I’ll show ya.”

Then he turned his attention to the man behind the counter. Frank handed over a few bills to exchange for tokens.

He was spending so much money on her today. She felt uncomfortable unable to contribute. Of course, no one would give her money, nothing that she could potentially use to escape.

Not that she had anywhere to go. Beyond the walled city was a dangerous place for her. Outside the city was Soviet-controlled Germany. Even if she attempted to leave through the subway tunnels as she and Adler once had, she was an enemy of the state. Sure, they had thought she was dead, but likely that had been proven wrong when her face showed up all over the KGB cameras as soon as someone had reviewed the footage. And hey, why is a dead woman working with Russell Adler anyway?

If caught, the KGB would make sure she was dead this time, but not after grilling her for all the information she had about the CIA. Or if Perseus got hold of her again. The blonde- Ivanova went to great lengths to ensure she could hold her and torture her freely. She was sure the entire organization wanted her head for what she did in Solovestky.

“Hey,” Frank nudged her. The collection of dull coins jingled as he moved them from one hand to the other. “So, what do you want to play?”

She walked around studying each machine. The arcade wasn’t busy, so she could get a good look at the games.

One in particular caught her eye. It was one she recognized from the fake America town.

She approached the cabinet and watched the preview play before her of a small character dressed in green jumping over black blocks on the ground. She realized that the blocks were meant to be open spaces through which the player could fall. After watching the demo play, Frank handed her a coin, and she started up the game. He tucked his hand in his jeans pocket and deposited the remaining tokens.

“Got plenty of ‘em, so you can try all of the machines if you want,” He said, patting his pocket, causing the coins to jingle again.

She smiled at him and then directed her focus back to the machine. She bent down to deposit the token, and the music on the cabinet changed.

Frank leaned an arm over the cabinet and watched her play. It took her a moment to learn the controls. Her character died a few times, but it was easy to identify the gameplay patterns after that.

“Hey, you’re not bad at this,” Frank said.

She shrugged.

Then she made a silly mistake, and the timer ran out on the game. She managed to convince Frank to play a round himself. They spent much of the afternoon at the arcade. Occasionally, they’d find a game they could play together.  Boxing was entertaining because Frank would tell her about his brief experience as an amateur boxer as a teenager. Though with some of the stories, he’d end up distracting himself enough in the retelling that she could get several punches in at once.

After losing another round of boxing, Frank yawned and checked his watch.

“Getting late, we should head out. I wanted to get some things at the grocery store anyway,” Frank said. Then added, “Someone keeps complaining we don’t have any good food.”

“We don’t!” She said, following him out the door. He stopped short at a cabinet where a group of kids were gathered and rooted through his pockets for the remaining tokens. Then he dumped them into the hands of a girl standing on the outskirts of the group.

It was dark when they returned to the apartment, each holding one grocery bag.

She placed her bag on the counter and unpacked it, putting pantry items away as Frank stocked the fridge.

“Should I make us something?” She asked.

“Nah, I got an idea for us,” He said but didn’t elaborate. Mila wasn’t sure what to make of the smile that slowly crept across his face either.

“You, cooking?” She teased him.

“Hey, I can cook some things,” He said, feigning offense.

Mila chuckled. She wasn’t about to insult him if he was willing to make dinner for them. And she was a bit curious about what Frank would cook up. She leaned against the counter to watch him work.

“Let me know if you need me to do anything.”

“I got it. You gotta be tired after today anyway.”

He was right; she was exhausted, and she yawned as if on cue. She stretched her arms over her head and let out another long yawn. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the message indicator on the answering machine was lit.

“Oh hey, Frank, you’ve got a message,” She said.

“Hit play for me, will ya?”

She depressed the button, and the tape on the machine whirred to life.

“Woods-”

Mila recognized the voice immediately.

“Is that Sims?”

“Shh-” Frank hushed her.

“- in town, and I’ve got some ideas for you. Well, for Bell. Come by tomorrow.”

The tape stopped, and the machine beeped. Frank continued his work without explanation. He had pulled out a fat tomato and was in the process of cutting it into slices. Mila watched him, waiting to see if he would elaborate.

When he didn’t, she asked him, “What was that about?”

Frank’s back straightened, and he cleared his throat before answering.

“Sims-” He paused, “He’s gonna help us.”

She bit the inside of her lip to keep herself from interrupting. She could tell Frank had more to say, but why was he taking so long to say it? He placed the knife on the cutting board but kept his other hand around the tomato as he turned his head to look at her.

“I’m not letting them drug you anymore, Mila,” He said firmly.

She hadn’t been expecting that.  In fact, she wasn’t sure she understood him clearly.

“What? What do you mean?”

“I told them. All of them. They need to figure something else out.”

Frank turned back to the tomato and finished slicing. He moved the slices to a plate.

“All of them,” She repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Park, Hudson, and Adler. All of them,” He said as he opened the fridge and pulled out a pack of bacon wrapped in butcher paper. He placed it on the counter. Frank then sprinkled some water on the pan, and it sizzled.

“Nice and hot,” He said quietly.

It was surreal watching him work. The conversation and the actions were incongruent. Frank was just making her dinner and casually telling her her entire life was about to change. That he- Frank Woods- of all people had made a decision about her life without talking to her about it.

This couldn’t be happening. Frank couldn’t do this to her.

Mila rubbed her forehead.

“Is that why you-” She stopped. She didn’t want to think that Frank took her out today to soften the blow of what would happen tomorrow. Mila ripped her hand away from her forehead and slammed her fist on the countertop.

Frank had just been about to place a slice of bacon in the pan, but he stopped and stared at her.

“Frank, if they’re not drugging me-” Mila started. She shook her head. The kitchen was a blur. She couldn’t make eye contact with him. She didn’t want to face the reality of it.

“If I’m not useful to them-” She tried again.

No, no, don’t say it.

“We almost lost you-” Frank said, his voice surprisingly calm.

“Frank!” She interrupted, “This is my life. And you’re what, just making decisions for me?”

“What do you want me to do?” He said. He tossed the bacon back on the butcher paper. It made a wet slapping sound when it hit the paper.

“You were gone. You didn’t see you. Lost in your head. It’s the fucking drugs, Mila. You want me just to step aside and let them do that to you?”

“I told you that’s what I was good for,” She said.

“So you think you deserve this?”

She said nothing to him then. The answer was obvious to both of them. He stepped towards the sink and washed his hands. As he dried them, he turned back toward her.

“Sometimes I think you’d rather lose your mind,” Frank said sadly. He tossed the towel on the counter before reaching out for her, but she slapped his hand away.

“Mila-”

“Controlling my life. Just like Adler.”

“Hey!” He raised his voice then.

It wasn’t fair. She knew she wasn’t being fair. Frank wasn’t Adler. But the roaring in her head wouldn’t stop. She stepped away from him and swung around, heading to her room.

She didn’t want to see him. Didn’t want to hear his reasoning. He was probably right, but the prospect of it not working, of her being imprisoned forever. She’d rather be dead. Because it would be forever. Held in solitary confinement with no hope of ever leaving.

She changed into her t-shirt, leaving her day clothes on the floor.

On her bed was the bag from the music store. Frank must have put it in here for her. She placed her headphones over her ears and popped a tape in. Somber music did its best to drown out the sounds of Frank cooking in the kitchen.

And eventually, she fell asleep.

She had a dream of meeting a man in a bar. He was a stranger to her, but they sat and talked as if they were old friends. After exchanging pleasantries, she leaned closer to him.

“Please. Frank Woods. It must be him.”

“Why?”

“Because I believe he is a good man. I believe he will understand.”

Mila woke up hungry. She was no stranger to the feeling, but somehow, paradoxically, it was harder to ignore now that she was getting food regularly. Easier to let the feeling fade into the background and have sleep for dinner when there was never any dinner or breakfast to look forward to.

The bedside clock told her it was the middle of the night, and she wondered if Frank would still be awake. Her anger had died almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. She felt guilty for blowing up on him and knew she needed to apologize. And that he’d probably chew her out for it. Frank wasn’t manipulative. He wasn’t trying to control her. He’d likely be more angry that she’d even suggest that than anything else. But first, she needed to eat something.

Swinging her feet around, she carefully got up from the bed. She avoided a particularly creaky floorboard and made her way to the door. She placed her ear against it and listened, but with the exception of the usual sounds of the building, it was quiet.

Even still, she opened the door as quietly as she could. If Frank was in his room snoring away, he would never hear her, but she couldn’t be too careful. Mila made her way to the kitchen. She could assemble a sandwich quickly and bring it back to her room. Though she hated eating in her room. It made her feel like she was in a prison cell. She opened the fridge, and there on the top shelf was a plate with a sandwich wrapped in waxed paper.

Frank had made dinner for her after all. Of course, he had. She picked up the chilled plate and turned to bring it to her room. But that’s when Frank emerged from the bathroom. A fleck of toothpaste dotted his beard. They caught each other’s gaze before he walked past her and through the kitchen. He was just on the threshold of the living room when he stopped. He raised his arm and leaned against the doorframe.

“Should have talked to you about it, but I wanted you to have a couple of good days before we had to figure things out,” He said. His hand formed into a fist, which he tapped against the frame before turning around.

The guilt crept in again. He had just been thinking about her again. His insistence on her rehabilitation had changed his living situation, his job, and his life. How much time did he spend thinking about her?

Mila set the sandwich down on the counter and stepped toward him.

“I’m sorry, Frank,” She said. It felt weak. After everything.

To her surprise, he nodded. He leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his bare chest.

“Yeah, me too,” He said.

She waited, she didn’t have much to say, everything that came to mind just sounded like an excuse to her.

“I’m not like him,” Frank said.

“I know, Frank,” She said.

“I’m not trying to control your life. Not interested in that,” He said.

He took in a deep breath. She shifted her weight on her feet. It seemed like he had more to say.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” She said when he said nothing.

He gave her a sidelong glance, and then a characteristic smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth. He threw his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him.

“I’ve had worse,” He said with a chuckle. Frank reached over with his other arm and grabbed her plate. For a brief moment, she found herself enveloped in his arms. Face pressed against his chest. The scent of his cologne and the toothpaste filled the air around her. And he was warm, as always.

“Come on,” He said and guided her towards the couch. “No reason to eat alone. Unless you want to?”

She shook her head. They both took a seat on the couch.

“Thanks for the sandwich,” She said as she did. She sat down somewhat close to him, bending her legs and letting her feet dangle off the couch. She balanced the plate on her thigh and unwrapped the sandwich. Then she took a bite.

“Want some?” She offered to him. He shook his head. She covered her mouth with her hand and nodded, “It’s really good.”

“I thought so. Better warm, though.”

She wolfed down half the sandwich. In part because she was very hungry, but also to avoid conversation. However, when she finished, instead of picking up the second half, she said, “I’m sorry, Frank.”

“You said that already.”

He reached out and put his hand on the back of her neck, pulling her into him. He had to grab the sandwich plate before it slipped onto the couch, and he set it next to him on the armrest.

From behind her, he pulled down a blanket and draped it over her. She felt a strong desire to tell him everything that was going on in her head. Her worries, her fears, and even her hopes, however small, for her future. Mila looked up at Frank. Her eyes traveled over his face, the way the hairs of his beard curved to the contour of his jawline. The deep wrinkles that lead up to his eyes, his eyes, bright blue, so much hidden behind them.

Frank thought about her enough. She didn’t need to dump her feelings on him.

He must have sensed her watching him because he glanced down. He made a soft questioning noise to match the look on his face.

Mila rose up, allowing the blanket to fall from her shoulders, and pressed a hand to Frank’s chest before kissing him.

#call of duty #black ops cold war #frank woods #cod bell #cod cold war #black ops #bocw #russell adler #helen park #jason hudson #lawrence sims #alex mason #just what I needed #efingfanfics #holy shit it's been almost A YEAR #but it's worth it #it really is #I promise #😂😂😂 #frank woods x cod bell

[livingfast04]

Monster Au? - Part 6

one two three four five II seven Tw: Body Horror, disordered Eating, anxiety, dehumanization, refences to past child abuse, depression, suicidal thoughts, very mild nudity (not descriptive, it's just brief mention of being naked) It might get worse from here. Sorry not sorry ---

Steve stares at himself, all long monster-ish limbs, the lines of his ribcage. His fingers shake as he reaches up to hover his hands over the concave of his stomach, he stares at his reflection, at the unnatural long fingers- his thin fingers, discolored nail beds and the freckles that cover the backs of his hands, trace up his arms. 

He doesn’t recognize the thing that stares back at him.

The bones that rest so visibly under his skin, the vivid violet mark across his neck. Mama says it’ll scar, just like his stomach, it’ll scar worse since it’s all so old. Steve’s ears twitch, ducking his head to hide his eyes under his hair. The wavy strands are too long, this form gone too long without a haircut, his bangs just slightly brush over the top of his lip.

He wants to shorten them, wants the strands to tuck back across his forehead. Steve reaches up, he curls his fingers around the hair, hands shaking with visible tremors as he does. It rattles in front of his face. The white scars over his knuckles, eyes darting down to his hand still posed just over his sides. The scars there. 

The only parts that have actually healed. Of course it’s his hands. The smaller marks, the cuts, scared over, pale and disgusting. The new bite marks on his palm, the imprint of jagged teeth. His own sharp teeth. On his other palm is a darker set of scarred skin, more flower-like- more deformed. A monster more monster than those who live in this world. 

His hands healed the fastest. The rest of his body struggled to catch up. Steve turned his gaze back to the mirror, met the dark eyes blinking back at him from behind his fringe. There’s the familiar relief, even at his dislike for the longer strands of hair- pushing the waves out of his eyes. He traces the crook in his nose, the small white scars that line his left eye- 

Billy Hargroves handy work. 

The scar on his chin, arched up and speared over his lips- the scar tissue was rough, he ran his tongue over it. The scar around his eye, both Russians and Hargrove. Steve lets out a long breath. He stares at the thing that looks back at him, moves with him, blinks when he does.

It’s nauseating.

Mama clicks from down the hall, Steve turns and his throat is raw as he calls back on instinct, the noise is weak and hardly passes his lips. Mama calls again, stronger- she’s looking for him, Da clicks from his office. Steve grabs the sweater sitting on the counter, pulling it over his head before remembering the rows of stitches and the bandages he’s supposed to cover them with. It doesn’t matter. Steve stumbles out of the bathroom, Mama is standing in the bedroom- their bedroom. Steve feels like a baby, a cub- tucked away in their nest. His parents had hardly let him leave the room, his Mama clicked at him, Steve ducked his head behind his hair- he wasn’t complaining.

All his parents expected of him was to eat, sleep, and cuddle. And god did Steve want to snuggle back up in their bed with 

them. Mama crossed the room, her fingers tracing over his face, pushing Steve’s hair out of his eyes gently. “How are you feeling?” Steve leans into the touch, his Mama letting out a soft coo. 

“Better.” The word felt clunky in his mouth, with sharp teeth, and scars that stretch on his skin. He hasn’t said much of anything lately, other than rough clicks, and a few single words here or there. Throat too raw, the feeling of his tongue against his teeth foreign.

Mama hummed, continuing to drag her fingers through his hair. She cupped his jaw, his ears twitched, pressing his cheek into her hold. “There’s a snack out on the counter in the kitchen for you. Even if you aren’t all that hungry you have to eat one of them.” Steve wrinkled his nose, but gave a soft click in agreement. Least of all he starts an argument or displeases his parents and they leave him. 

His chest was tight at the thought.

Steve trailed after his Mother as she left the room, her form shifting a little, hair curling up around the nape of her neck and turning a soft honey blonde. Steve swallowed around nothing as he passed her to head to the kitchen. She clicked loud enough that Steve could hear her, and his Father responded. 

There was an unopened cup of yogurt on the table, and a bowl of fruit. His teeth ached, pulling out a stool at the counter- he dropped down onto it, legs twisting up to rest on the seat. 

Steve’s hands shook as he picked out a strawberry from the bowl, pressing it against the roof of his mouth, squishing the soft fruit. Mama had added sugar, his fingers sticky as he kept just picking out the soft fruits. A few grapes, a few orange slices- but mostly strawberries.

Steve licked at his fingers, shifting his weight on the stool as his knee started to ache. He could hear his parents talking, it was muffled, and sounded a little bit like he was underwater. If they wanted him to know, they’d talk about it where he could see them. If anything it was probably about work, Steve squished another piece of fruit against the roof of his mouth, and he really didn’t care to think about them leaving him again.

He can’t, it’ll ruin him. Steve picks at the few apples in the bowl, digging his nail into the fruit. 

Mama brushes through the house, Steve twisted slightly to watch her as she came into the kitchen she tugged on a piece of his hair. Da followed her in, brushing his hand over Steve’s shoulder. He also picks up a piece of apple from the bowl of fruit. 

Steve can’t stop himself from lifting his lips, growling at him, shoulders tense and lifted up by his ears. His thoughts tumble from his hands with little grace, the low noise claws up his throat- fingers digging into the ceramic of the bowl and dragging it towards him. Eyes flicking from his Father’s frozen fingers, and his Mother’s face. 

His growl tapers off, lips still curled. Steve’s hair falling in his face from where Mama had pushed it back. The tension in the room was almost tangible, Steve felt shame flood his face, and he fumbled, he was mortified. His parents where just staring at him, “Sorry- sorry, I-” 

They were going to leave again, they were going to leave him again- They were going to leave him, they know- they know he’s a monster

Steve’s body protested as he all but fell off the stool as he struggled to get his leg unwound to stand up. His heart hammered in his throat, “I didn’t-” the words came out rough, and garbled. Da makes a soft click, followed by a soothing noise- Steve jerks at the noise, ears flicking sharply.

He shuffles away from the counter, shoving the bowl of fruit towards his Father. Steve avoided eye contact, shoulders hunched, his sides protested, his whole body hurts. Mama coos, “Stephan.” Father’s voice is sharp, he jerks a little at the tone. Steve won’t meet his eyes, but he knows better that it’ll be worse if he doesn’t at least look in the direction of his Father. 

There’s a soft scraping noise as the bowl is pushed on the countertop. “You are alright Bub.” His voice is firm, but soft, “It’s yours, I wasn’t thinking.” Food possessive, aggressive. Steve follows the length of his old man’s hand, the apple still in his fingers. Steve blinks, stumbling slightly as he reaches back of the bowl, curling his arms around it and lifting it to his chest.

It’s sad, just a little, that Steve’s clinging to a bowl like a child clings to a toy. He knows it is, his father holds out the apple slice, he jerks at the sudden movement, shuffling back a little bit, lips curling. 

Face flushed, shame curling in his stomach, but something heavy in his chest.

“Just- keep it.” He shuffled out of the kitchen, and into the living room. Retreating, away- just get away. Steve avoided the furniture, it still smelled like The Party, Mama had ordered all new sets of things, but it wasn’t due to arrive for a few more weeks.

Steve clung to the bowl, body aching as he fled. Pressing his back against the wall, sliding down to sit in the corner.

His parents' voices were quiet, and he stared down at the mix of fruit. They were going to remember he isn’t worth the effort eventually. That they never thought he was worth the effort. 

They were going to realize just like The Party had, that Steve was useless. 

---

Eddie curled his legs closer to his chest, the blanket was sticking to his legs, his sheets, honestly his hair was in his face and couldn’t care less. It had been far too long since he’d let himself linger, wallow, lay in his own misery. Eddie won’t say he misses it, it doges his footsteps outside of his room. It’s just harder to avoid now. 

Clinging to imprint bonds he’s angry at having- clinging to a bond that he should have loved a little more.

He knows this upsets Wayne, knows it because his Uncle is loud about his dislike for Eddie’s mild comatose state every time he does it. And it’s- it’s not like Eddie wallows a lot, it’s hard to, because he has to get up- has to check on people, see them, know they are okay. And sure, Eddie knows, he’s a dramatic person at heart. 

But this is different. 

Normally it’s like this because he’s upset, when sadness clings and doesn’t let go. Eddie’s never been rendered numb by anger before. He’s fucked this all up because he thought he knew the most.

That in and of itself is a common mistake of his. Thinking he knows all because he should, because Eddie knows best. He’s a firm believer that he's never wrong, at least until he is. This, this isn’t a simple fuck up. This is a fuck up of all fuck ups. 

Everything’s been riding on holding on to the idea that he hasn’t screwed this all up this badly, for three weeks, he’s been living in anger- and in guilt, and in shame. And now- now he’s just empty. 

Mind narrowed in on the rough thump of Steve’s heart beat, the shaky nervousness of the younger heartbeat. It’s easier this way, to ignore the fact that if he gives in and goes to Steve, everyone’s just winning at the end of the day. Everyone but Steve. 

Eddie won’t participate, he won’t, he won’t get involved, he won’t slowly kill Steve again. No matter how many calls the kids make to the trailer, no matter how many times the radio goes off for someone to shout at him. Eddie refuses. 

Imprinting is sacred, and they all know that. Eddie would rather- he would rather, Eddie swallows- his tongue a heavy weight in his mouth. He can hear Wayne talking to someone in the living room, he knows that a few of the kids have been actually over, banging on the door, shouting- especially after Eddie turned off the walkie. 

He blinks, staring at nothing.

There’s a door shutting, and footsteps down the hall. His door creaks open, Eddie doesn’t move, doesn’t even feel like breathing- then he’ll get a mouth full of whoever it is, whose disappointment and anger he has to face. “You can’t hold your breath forever.” Gareth.

Eddie lets out a shaky breath, curling his fingers a little more around the blanket in his fist. “You know when Wayne told me you where wallowing, I almost wanted to tell him to fuck off.” It would be valid, all of his friends would be within their right to tell him to eat shit and die.

Gareth flopped down on the other side of Eddie’s bed. The weight caused him to move slightly, “But, then he explained it… I should still tell you to fuck off.” He should, he should- it would be more than Eddie deserved, this was more than Eddie deserved. “Collector of strays and you kicked Harrington to the curb the second he wasn’t unnatural?” Gareth was only partially supernatural, witchy but not quite. Eddie knows the other doesn’t fully practice his bloodline. 

He was just as human as anyone else is, even with magic in his blood. “That was shitty.” 

“Y’ah.” Eddie doesn’t recognize his own voice, his lips are dry and the movement cracks them. Gareth makes a noise, and Eddie blinks a little harder.

They sat in silence for a while longer, the fan running in the background was good filler for space- at least for Gareth, maybe Eddie wouldn’t know. Too busy using Steve’s heartbeat as background noise, his brain unfogged a little at the lack of tunnel vision.

Gareth poked him in the ribs with his elbow, “You stink.” Eddie hummed, letting out a soft mmm sound at the comment. He probably did, no, he did. Eddie had been laying unmoving in this bed for people over a week. Drifting between sleep and completely zoned out. He can’t remember the last time he ate anything, or the last time he got up to go to the bathroom. 

Not that he really needed to do those things, Vampire and all. Well he did, but it wasn't super necessary, not for short term living. Eddie couldn’t lay here forever, sure he’d live for years like this before eventually his mind would crumble, and what little beating his heart would do would just stop. 

That would be kinder than what they were doing to Steve. 

“You should shower.” Probably. Eddie didn’t make a noise this time, kept quiet, didn’t have the energy to really respond, didn’t want to move, didn’t want to get up. Gareth jabbed him again, and he twisted on base reaction - his body jerking away from the aggressive movement. “Alright I’m done,” Gareth shoved him, hard. Eddie wasn’t unfamiliar with falling out of his own bed, but never this violently. He jerked letting out a loud unhappy hiss, fumbling to grab anything at the sudden movement before landing face first on the carpeted floor. His forehead knocking hard, and the responding thump rattled the items on the walls of the trailer. 

It’s like something sharp has popped his bubble, something pressing on his skin, anger welling up in his throat. “What the fuck.” The words are muffled in the carpet, rough and Eddie can’t even identify the tone in his own voice. He can hear Gareth moving around his bed, “What the fuck.” The tone is mocking, mimicking, “You are the most annoying motherfucker in this forsaken town, and you are worse when you feel like you’ve wronged someone. Or you know. So you are going to get your sorry ass out of this goddamn trailer, and apologize. Or so help me, I will take your fucking Guitar and sell it to some punk fuck in Indy.” 

Eddie twists his head around, to just stare at him. He slowly processes the words, Eddie works his jaw, careful to keep his teeth from touching, his lip curls without his permission. “Don’t y’u fuck’n dare.” His fangs dig into his lower lip, face flushing hot as his lisp regestures.

Gareth doesn’t look amused with him in the slightest. “Go take a fucking shower.” His retreating form almost mocks Eddie, almost. The carpet is rough on his skin, a cast off belt is digging into his stomach. Curling his fingers, Eddie pushes himself up on his elbows and struggles to sit back on his knees. 

Vision spinning, head rush, vertigo, dizzy spell- didn’t matter. He breathed heavily through his nose before stumbling to his feet, swaying in place, room giving a valiant effort to move around him.

Standing in the hallway between the living room, Wayne’s door- and the bathroom. Eddie made eye contact with Gareth, who was just staring at him. Opening and then closing his mouth, his eyebrows furrowed. There was nothing to say, Eddie was- he hissed, more at himself than anything else and jerked his gaze down to stare at the carpet.

Even if it was a new trailer, it was still the same old muddy as fuck trailer park. The carpet was tracked through, over- he doesn’t know the exact term. It doesn’t matter, he stares at the mud stains instead of looking at Wayne or Gareth. Least his shame climb out of his skin, shed his muscles on the floor and bare its gnarled teeth for the rest of the world to see.

“I can smell you from here.” Eddie’s shoulders hitch up by his ears. 

His fangs are still down, pressing sharply against his lower lip, and he grables out “I’m fuckin goin’.” around the awkward shape of his teeth at his friend and stumbles into the wall when he turns around. Eddie jerks, stepping back on shaky legs, he shakes himself off. 

Embarrassment doesn't even claw its way to the surface, Eddie swallows, his tongue dry, pressing against the back of his teeth, running over the texture, the shape of each tooth. Righting is orientation in the hallway, and the bathroom door- Eddie tried again. 

Knocking against the doorframe, but ultimately, he made it in the bathroom without running fully into a wall again. He fumbles around, shedding his shirt, Eddie pauses, blinking long and hard against the dark of the bathroom. Fingers finding the light switch, he kicks out with his foot to finish closing the door. 

Eddie shoves at his shorts, and kicks them off- slamming his hip into the counter in the process. Hissing lightly, he twisted around in the small space to turn on the shower, soaking the bathroom for a split second, cursing sluggishly and loud- as he struggled to pull the curtain too. 

Letting out a rough huff, already fucking soaked, Eddie jerked the curtain back. Stepping over the tub ledge, mildly proud of himself when he didn’t fucking trip on it, and closed the cutrain behind him.

The water was warm, Eddie hadn’t realized just how cold he was before now. It was a jar to his system, it wasn’t unusual for him to be cold. Vampire and all, but he did- you know have a heartbeat, and some blood that actually belonged to him. It just didn't replenish, it was a whole thing. Doesn’t matter. 

The point is, it was like waking the fuck up. His stomach growled, finally realizing that it was empty. Eddie stood under the spray for a little longer, curling into the warmth, letting it settle into his bones. Thinks about what they have in the fridge, and chews on his lip as he gets the shampoo bottle off the shelf. 

Going through the motions to clean himself, rushing towards the end at the demands of his stomach. Steve’s heart still thumps in the background, but Eddie isn’t hyper focused, he’s not zoned in on it. It’s white noise for him now. 

Drying his hair roughly, not really bothering with anything other than straightening his bangs in the foggy mirror. Rubbing the water clinging to the glass, Eddie stares at his slightly out of focus reflection. Wayne had tried his best to get non-silver and rather aluminum backed mirrors. 

But- Eddie got his hand wet under the sink, running his fingers through his bangs. Dropping the towel he used to dry his hair on the floor, shoving at it with his foot to kick it out of the general small walk space. 

He shuffles out of the bathroom to his bedroom, shuts the door behind him and sets out to find the cleanest item of clothing in his room. Eddie knows he has clean underwear, and he digs those out of the dresser first. 

Spinning around, staring at the rest of his room, Eddie notices a little dumbly that his hamper is full of clean clothes. Instantly he feels bad, he steps over, staring into the basket, he hadn’t even noticed that Wayne had done his laundry. He picks out a shirt from the pile, thumbing at the soft feeling before yanking it over his head, wet curls sticking to his neck.

A pair of jeans that are laid over the back of his chair. Eddie sits on his bed to pull them on, still dizzy, and honestly not really sure he could get them on standing up without falling over. 

Eddie sits there for a moment, fidgeting with his pants button, just staring at the wall- mind clinging to the sound of Steve’s heart beat, it jumps a little- racing harsh and loud, and continues to do so. His gums itched, his skin too tight- something as wrong- 

His stomach growls.

Right, right- Steve’s fine, he’ll be okay- Eddie, Eddie can check on him. Apologize. He just needs to eat first. 

It’s a quiet affair, Eddie leaving his bedroom, walking into the kitchen, and getting a blood pop shoved at him. His eyes zero in, and he sticks the cold treat in his mouth instantly. Eddie lets out a groan, his teeth digging into the popsicle, Gareth basically herds him towards the couch and Eddie goes willingly. Laving his tongue over the bloodpop. 

It takes him probably ten minutes to eat the entire thing, and he gnaws on the stick when he’s finished, sinking his teeth into the wood with little care for the fragility of them. Wayne growls, Eddie jerks his eyes over to him, pulling his teeth out of the stick. 

Wayne holds out his hand, Eddie’s fingers are steady as he drops the bite riddled popsicle stick in his uncle's hand. Gareth elbows him again, “Eat.” Half baked meat cubes. Eddie tucks his knees up to his chest, resting the plate on top of them, gnawing on the cubes of meat almost absently. His best friend and his uncle are quiet. Eddie sinks his teeth into the cube, staring at the TV, it’s turned off. It wasn’t before- the screen is still static like. “I need to apologize.” “Yeah, you do.” Gareth’s voice is sharp, angry, fair enough. Eddie’s being stupid. “I don’t even like Harrington and I know you are being a dickwad.”

Eddie makes a face, darting his eyes to look over to Wayne. His Uncle was staring at him with an unreadable expression. Furrowing his brow, “Pops?” Wayne grumbles, his expression hardening. Swallowing hard, Wayne doesn’t look at him like that very often. A handful of times where Wayne’s really pressed rank, Eddie ducks his head slightly, not making eye contact. “Not for them, you understand me Edward? You apologize to that boy, because he deserves it, not ‘cause that group of yours wants to use him.” Eddie’s eyes go wide, “You apologize to that boy, and you fix this.” He nods, jerking his head up and down for a long moment sending his vision spinning. “Today.”

Eddie shoves another cube in his mouth, “Yes sir.” His voice is quiet, muffled around the piece of meat, but Wayne rumbles softly, Eddie tracks the movement of his Uncle reaching out to pull on one of his curls.

“‘M not mad at ya’ Eds,” Hesitant eye contact, the words are gruff, in all the ways that his Uncle always is, “disappointed, but not mad.” Eddie nods his head like a poor bobble head. “I’m fucking mad at you.” Gareth’s voice is sharp, “I’m so angry at you, how dare you-” “Gareth.” Eddie tucks his head down, “Later.” Wayne’s voice is sharper now, Gareth has no position here, and he knows the wix knows it too, snapping his mouth shut, jaw making an audible click. Teeth colliding aggressively, Eddie cringes, sympathy for the other’s teeth. 

They sit in silence as Eddie finishes eating, slower on the last few pieces, anxiety pooling in his limbs as he goes. Mind focusing back on Steve’s heart beat as he goes about the motions of putting on socks, shoes, staring at Gareth’s retreating back as the younger leaves the trailer, slamming the door behind him. Eddie tosses his keys back and forth in his hands. “I fucked up.” quiet, hardly above a whisper. It’s not for anyone but himself, Wayne won’t respond- he knows, knows that Eddie’s talking to himself- it’s, it’s- this is all so fucked. 

He says goodbye to Wayne, tells him he’ll call him, and heads out. The ride is eerie, silent, Eddie doesn’t bother with turning on the radio. He’s not worthy of a distraction, ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Steve, I didn’t- I didn’t mean to hurt you, I didn’t mean to do any of this, and I’m so sorry you got hurt, I’m sorry we hurt you. That I hurt you.’ It felt- pathetic, wasteful, mouthful of words, empty, empty words. Why would Steve even listen to him? He’s done nothing but hurt the younger boy. 

Eddie has been nothing but cruel to Steve. 

Only Steve's BMW was parked in the driveway, Eddie parked on the street. I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. For all of it- He smashed his hand against the steering wheel, fumbling to turn his van off. The keys rattle in the silence of the space. It feels oddly more like a death march walking up to the house, than the ride to kill Vecna did; walking up to the door, the world was so loud. Each of his steps loud against his ears. Competing with the steady thump of Steve’s heartbeat in his own chest. 

Eddie stood in front of the door, staring at the wood, breathing harshly through his nose. And he knocked, cracking his knuckles against the colored wood, Steve’s pulse jumps, rocks against his ears and Eddie whines behind his teeth. I’m so sorry- I’m so sorry- There’s a little bit of shouting in the house, the hair on the back of his neck raises. Steve’s heart beat swells closer, and Eddie rocks back on his heels. Anxiety resting against his collar bones, pooling on his tongue. The door opens-

Steve looks terrible, Eddie’s heart aches, his teeth itch, and his bones claw at his skin. His hair is long, and falling in his face, there’s scars on his face that Eddie had never seen before, the line around his neck- the one from the demo-bats, it’s stark against his skin. Steve’s eyes widen, and Eddie’s hands shake at his sides.

“Hi?”

--- Bloop. Sorry that this took forever, took a tiny break, and then fist fought writers block for far longer than I should have. And if anyone knows me From "An Untuned Piano" I tend to get sick, get better, and then get sick again. So, currently- sick. 0/10, at least I didn't get an incredibly high fever and then decide I was going to write, rewrite the plot, and fuck myself over... again. (I may have also fucked up my hand somewhere in between-) I'm not the happiest with this, because I couldn't put together exactly what I had pictured in my head. But it's whatever. It's fine. The next part I know what I want to do, and what I want to get done. Some of it's already finished- so it shouldn't be too long. !! Thank you for your very sweet feedback!! And to the one person who keeps leaving me very nice comments and then asking me to post it on ao3, I will! I just have a very specific word count that my brain makes me reach before I can think about posting something. I'll post it pretty soon, though it will probably be in a two-shot.

Tags: @theghostinmymachine @sadcanadianwinter @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @a-huge-nerdy-nerd @bisexualdisastersworld @intergalactic-president-awesome @vampireinthesun @estrellami-1 @raysreads @knightofthieves @sassysleeplord @gezell-igg @ledleaf @haluton @h0n3y-dw @thegingerrapunzel @finalmoondragon @warrior-616 @lexyvey @thesuninyaface @whalesharksart @two-faced-biatch @plasticcrotches @xtkxkrzrizir @minjintea @potatofist18 @just-a-tiny-void @selune2 @hellomynameismoo @princessstevemunson @plantzzsandpencilzzs @wearelosersyoudumbfuck @dbquills @pheonixashtree

#steddie monster au? #steddie #steddie fanfic #steve x eddie #steveddie #shapeshifter steve harrington #monster steve harrington #monster eddie munson #sad steve harrington #stranger things au #vampire eddie munson #steve harringtons parent #steve harrington angst #steve harrington whump #eddie munson whump #hurt steve harrington #wayne munson #gareth #I'm literally going to fist fight myself in a taco bell parking lot #i feel like that's the only solution to my writers block #I wanna kick the shit out of something #or feel something #can't tell

[efingcod]

Just What I Needed Chapter List

Last Update 2/23/24

ao3

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Twenty-One | Twenty-Two | Twenty-Three|Twenty-Four| Twenty-Five

Deleted Scenes: #1

#call of duty #black ops cold war #frank woods #cod bell #russell adler #alex mason #helen park #lawrence sims #lazar azoulay #jason hudson #cod perseus #frank woods x cod bell #bocw #just what i needed #efing fanfics #efingfanfics #efingart #I need to clean up my list and JWIN is getting LONG #might as well before I get told i'm out of links #feel free to reblog if you want

[cloudofbutterflies92]

Tagged by the lovely @simonxriley 💕 in this picrew , I decided to put the Riley/Park family as her after the events of MW4

Eden"Spectra"Park /Simon"Ghost"Riley

Diana Riley/Joseph Riley

Helen Park/Robert "Bell"Watson

Tag:@chloekistune @graveyard-party666 @alypink @kaitaiga @statichvm @onehornedbeast @themotherofhorses @alexxmason @carlosoliveiraa @cassietrn @socially-awkward-skeleton @thewanderer-000 @thedeadthree @priceseyes @sinclxirx @marivenah @strangefable @captastra @aceghosts @kikiharinezumi @katsigian

#Diana's face is adorable 🤣🤣🤣 #Joseph likes his dad wears glasses #oc:eden“spectra”park #call of duty oc:eden “spectra” park #x: fire and gasoline #pairing: ghost & eden #oc:diana riley #oc:joseph riley #oc:robert“bell”watson #pairing: helen park/robert watson #call of duty ocs

[sankyeom]

this one’s for everyone who (like me) believes that sunghoon is so lana del rey coded 😌

best friends to lovers sunghoon coming very soon!!

#wip #belle’s babbles #enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen imagines #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen x you #sunghoon x you #fic: kiss me hard before you go

[thedailybullshit]

RDR2 Incorrect Quotes pt. 27

Pearson: What are the signs of depression?

Hosea: It depends, why?

Pearson: Arthur just dropped a deer and said, “Why has God forsaken me?” while holding up a peace sign.

After Blessed Are The Peacemakers:

Arthur: Hostage or not, sometimes it’s nice to be held.

Dutch: Nothing disturbs Arthur anymore . . . just watch this. Hey Arthur, I heard there’s an impending natural disaster headed right our way!

Arthur: Cool . . . Imma go fistfight god behind a general store.

Dutch: See, my son thrives in chaos.

Kieran: I really don’t feel like this is something we need to praise and encourage . . . I should’ve let you guys kill me when you found me.

Dutch: Hey, Hosea?

Hosea: Yeah?

Dutch: I love you.

Hosea:

Hosea: What did you do?

Arthur: How high are you?

Swanson: No, it’s “Hi, how are you?”.

Hosea: Is the pain bad?

Arthur: It’s not that bad.

Hosea: Don’t lie to yourself.

Arthur: I’m not lying to myself, I’m lying to you.

Dutch: Annabelle, I never meant to hurt you. Whenever you’re hurt I feel awful, it’s the worst, I hate it.

Annabelle: Wow. You’ve managed to make even empathy selfish.

Vet: I’m sorry, but your horse is pronounced dead.

Kieran: Oh my god

Kieran: I can’t believe I’ve been pronouncing it wrong this whole time.

Bessie: This is my husband, Hosea. And this is Hosea’s husband, Dutch.

Annabelle: Wait, sorry, what’s the situation?

Bessie: Hosea is bi, so he’s straight for me, but he’s gay for Dutch, and Dutch’s really gay for Hosea. And Dutch hates me.

Dutch: It’s not that complicated.

Hosea: No . . .

Arthur: Sorry I’m late. I was . . . doing things.

Micah: *comes running up the stairs out of breath* He pushed me down the fucking stairs!

Arthur: “Push” is such a strong word. I prefer to call it “giving you a little nudge”.

Micah: Oh, I’ll give you a little nudge when I shove my foot up your ass!!

Arthur: Hey! Watch your fucking language in front of the gang leader.

Dutch:

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #reddeadredemption2 #reddead #simon pearson #hosea matthews #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #kieran duffy #orville swanson #reverend swanson #annabelle rdr2 #bessie matthews #micah bell #vandermatthews #dutch x annabelle #hosea x bessie #not a huge fan of the parks & rec quote but it’s there so #incorrect rdr2 quotes #incorrect quotes

[melanovia]

I love the Silvercops segment of Solar Opposites 'cause it does such a good job of capturing both the wonder and intense loneliness experienced from the vastness of space.

#solar opposites #silvercops #glen #dodge charger #Terry and Korvo Get in a Big Screaming Fight in the Taco Bell Parking Lot #Down and Out On Planet X-Non

[thefanfictioncorner-blog]

Read now! (14)

#wattpad #x reader #fanfiction #games #call of duty #cod cw #cod adler #cod cold war #call of duty cold war #cod russell adler #russell adler #russell adler x reader #frank woods #alex mason #lazar azoulay #helen park #cod bell

[flashbang-througthe-door]

How they'd dress Bell Tones

-----------------------------------------------

Mason - The dad look:

Woods - The Hot look:

Hudson - The classy one:

Lazar - The arty look:

Sims - The Dad pt 2:

Park - The comfort look:

Adler - The confused look:

#bell x hudson #bell tones #my bell #frank woods #alex mason #jason hudson #lazar #sims #park #adler

[heartlandians]

Heartland - 3x07 - The Starting Gate

#heartland #stills #season 3 #3x07 #lou fleming #michelle morgan #mrs bell #anna ferguson #lou x mrs bell #jam #hudson #park

[insidereagan]

i’m not kidding i need him to bad

#someone make bell x reader hcs and i will MARRY YOU #i love him sm #cannibal #cannibal the musical #bet he has a vore kink #but i don’t want any vore hcs with him #matt stone #trey parker #shannon bell #alfred packer #south park #team america #orgazmo #the book of mormon musical #time warped #matt and trey #musical #theatre #movie musical #history

[ringinghellsbell]

YOU GUYS!!! I redid the sketch, and I ABSOLUTELY AM IN LOVE WITH HOW IT TURNED OUT!!! It looks 1000000x better than it did and I'm actually excited to look at it! *Patrick Star voice intensifies* LOOK AT IT!!

If you're looking for the old one, please find it on my page. I don't even want to see it anymore LMFAO!

#Bell #Frank Woods #Call of Duty #Call of Duty Black Ops #Call of Duty Black Ops Cold War #Black Ops Cold War #CoD #Black Ops #Cold War #Frank Woods x Bell #Frank x Bell #Russell Adler #Helen Park #eleazar azoulay #Fan Art #Fan OC #Fan Character #Zain Hopkins-Woods #Gay #LGBTQ #Love #Gilded Boyfriends #Activision #OC x Canon #Canon x OC #Art #WIP

[efingcod]

Fandom: CoD Black Ops Cold War

Summary:

After the events at Solovetsky, Bell finds herself imprisoned by her enemies with only a few memories to keep her company.

Rating: Mature

(smut chapters are kept separate from the main story)

Comic first posted 6-21-21, fic first posted 11-13-2021

For @onlycodcanjudgeme’s tbt

So not the original format of my first CoD story (as it was a comic first), but I still think I can call it my first CoD fic.

Also I guess this is a good time to let people know that I’ve edited and rewritten parts of Chapter 1. It’s still the same fundamental story I just wanted to clean it up a bit. If you’ve already read it you don’t need to go back. (But if you do I’d love to hear your thoughts)

#call of duty #black ops Cold War #Frank woods x CoD bell #cod bell #Frank woods #Alex mason #russell adler #Helen park #Lawrence sims #jason hudson #eleazar azoulay #I’ll be updating other chapters as well #need to update the art too someday lol

[ouadisneyblog]

Zarina: Oh, babe! *giggles* You had a crush on me? That's embarrassing.

Periwinkle: We're married.

Zarina: *giggling* Still.

#source: parks and rec #source: parks and recreation #Tinker Bell #periwinkle #zarina #Zarina x periwinkle #periwinkle x zarina #disney femslash #femslash #disney #incorrect #quotes #incorrect quotes #incorrect disney quotes #incorrect disney fairies quotes #disney fairy #incorrect disney fairy quotes #disney fairies #fairy #fairies #zarwinkle #perina

[cloudofbutterflies92]

I thought about doing another 100 word challenge created by @deadbranch , this time with my Bell OC Robert(him and Helen are the grandparents of my COD OC Eden)and Helen Park 👀 (there are very few FFs on her🥲)

Helen stood outside on the balcony and asked herself a thousand questions about whether she should trust Adler.

The sound of the window lock caught her attention; she was reassured to know that her husband Robert was there.

Nervous as she was, she would probably have adopted a harsh tone towards others, and that was not the case.

"I needed my Park" He sunk his nose into her black hair, like the sky that night.

"Are you turning into Lazar when he trying to hit on me?" She snorted in amusement as she noticed the brown haired man's cheeky smile.

"I love you, Park."

"I love you, Mr. Watson."

#helen park #park cod #call of duty bocw #bell cod #male bell #oc: robert “bell”watson #robert x helen #call of duty black ops #black ops cold war #cod oc #call of duty oc #bell cod oc #call of duty

[everyonewooeverywhere]

MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED

pairing ✭ farmhand!mingyu x farmer's daughter!reader

note ✭ this is very much inspired by the mingyu pictured above. (also i don't mention it explicitly, but girly's family is lowkey rich)

synopsis ✭ when your dad hires a hot new farm hand, you can't keep your hands off of him.

content/genre ✭ smut (18+ mdni)

word count ✭ 2.9k

warnings ✭ smut, mingyu and reader are horny af, outside sex (no one else sees them though), no prep, overall horny shenanigans i guess 🤷‍♀️, alcohol consumption, tipsy sex (they're not depicted as drunk, but they did have a couple drinks)

✭✭✭✭

Every time your father hired a new farmhand, they were always the same. While they never disappointed in the build department (they were always jacked, but that was kind of a requirement of the job), but they all looked identical. They wore the same brown scuffed boots. They had their hair in the same floppy cut with the same dirty blonde color. 

For a couple of summers through your teens, it had been fun. Your father would hire him after the final school bell rang for the summer. You’d introduce yourself to him when your father was nowhere in sight, and you’d spend the rest of the summer sneaking around with him and having your fun. When summer finally ended and school began, you’d bid him farewell and never speak to him again, and your father was none the wiser.

And it was fun! The first two times. Then every summer turned the same, and every single farm hand looked indistinguishable from the last with no discernible personality whatsoever. 

So, having just finished your second year of university, you were expecting more of the same. You’d have a gander, but you certainly weren’t expecting much from whoever your dad decided to hire this summer. 

“God, why couldn’t you have invited me to stay over at your house this summer? I’d take whatever hunk your dad decided to keep,” your best friend from school, Jennifer, whined over the phone as you pulled your car up the long driveway to your house.

“I did invite you, but you’re spending you’re leaving today for Spain, remember?”

“Yes, but y/n!” she whined again, “I need more muscly men in my life. This would be the perfect opportunity.”

“You’re gonna be in Spain for two months. I’m sure you’ll find at least one man muscular enough to fit your standard.”

“Yeah, whatever. You better have fun with this man without me.”

“Like I told you earlier, they’re so fucking boring. It’s not gonna happen.”

You put your car in park and began to gather up your purse and phone when you glanced up out the windshield to see probably the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life walking out your front door and toward your car. It was as if your severe doubts had summoned him.

Ever the chatterbox, Jennifer kept talking, “Well I’m just saying maybe you should keep an open mind. You never know what could happen. One magical night in the woods and you could be locked down for life. It’s just–”

“Jennie shut the fuck up.”

“Woah,” she seemed mildly offended, “sorry?”

“He’s hot Jennie. Like really hot. Not even a ten. Probably a twelve.”

“Ugh, you lucky bitch! I told you to keep an open mind,” you could hear her mother yelling at her in the background, “Oh shit. Girl, I have to go, but send pics! Please! I need to see the hunk you’re railing this summer.”

“Yeah, of course,” you mumbled while she hung up on you.

This man was really throwing you for a loop. Just based on appearance alone you could tell he was not the type of guy your dad usually hired. First and foremost, he was massive. Well over 6 feet tall and far more muscular than any guy you’d ever seen (and that was saying something), and the skin-tight black t-shirt he was wearing did nothing to hide it. His hair was dark and cropped, a far cry from the endless supply of shaggy blonde hairstyles you’d seen over the years. 

The cherry on top was when, after watching you stumble out of the car, he’d asked, “Where’s your luggage? I thought I’d help you carry it inside.”

“Oh,” you let out an awkward laugh, “It’s in the trunk. Thank you.”

“Of course,” he followed you around the back of your car and popped open the trunk, “I’m Mingyu by the way.” He stuck out a hand for you to shake it.

You grabbed the hand and he shook it with a firm squeeze. Holy fuck he has nice hands. “Y/n. It’s great to meet you Mingyu.”

There was no hiding the way you gawked at the way his muscles flexed when he carried your stuff inside.

✭✭✭✭

The idea of returning to your old ways was honestly exciting for you. Last night over Facetime Jennifer had gotten the whole rundown of your brief interaction with Mingyu. You fawned over his muscles, his cute lisp and the way he’d been such a gentleman to help you carry your luggage after what you assumed was a long day of work. 

She’d found his Instagram of course and found out that he was indeed just as attractive as you’d described (and he had cute friends too). 

This morning you felt more than ready to kick off what you predicted to be a great summer. And you weren’t starting slow either. You knew the routine of your father’s farmhands enough to know that Mingyu would start the day mowing the lawn around your house. He’d usually start later on Saturdays (today), too. Meaning that if you got out there by 10 am, he’d probably still be working his way around the lawn. Hopeful by the pool.

Which, by complete coincidence, is where you were. Laid out in your favorite bikini by the water. The dark sunglasses covering your eyes meant that your eyes were completely hidden, but it was obvious where you were looking. 

Not far from the pool, you could see Mingyu pushing the lawn mower through the grass of your backyard. The tight black t-shirt from yesterday was no more. Instead, he wore a white tank top that left his arms completely exposed. He glanced over at you a couple of times, but he never let his gaze linger long enough for you.

You watched him from your laid-out position in your pool chair for a good fifteen minutes before he disappeared into the shed, presumably to put the lawnmower away. While he was inside, you took a moment to stand and dip your toes in the water thoroughly enjoying the coolness of the water. It was nice, you had to admit, but you’d have to save that for later because, while you were distracted by the water, Mingyu had made his way to the fence that separated your pool from the rest of the yard. 

It was only when he cleared his throat that you noticed him standing there, leaning against the fence smiling at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Do you normally spend your mornings checking out your dad’s employees?” God his voice.

You stepped out of the pool, “Only when I think they’re worth my time.” You slid your sunglasses off your face and onto the top of your head as you approached the fence where Mingyu was standing.

“Charming. I’m assuming he hasn’t the slightest idea what you get up to, then?”

You laughed, “Of course not. I’m good at keeping secrets.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“So…” you brushed his forearm with the tips of your fingers, “What time do you get done?” You knew the answer of course, but it felt polite to ask.

“Seven thirty. Why? Hoping to get me alone?” He smirked

“I wouldn’t mind it.” You bit your lip as you no-so-subtly checked him out for the millionth time, “Meet me behind the shed at seven forty-five, ok? Don’t be late. I’ll bring booze.”

✭✭✭✭

Part of you wondered if he’d be there when you snuck out of your house at eight-fifteen. Yes, you were late, but that was part of the game. Your parents always went to bed early, and you were an adult. So getting out of the house unnoticed was no issue at all. If your dad noticed the six-pack missing from the garage fridge, you could just tell him you drank it or you could feign complete innocence. 

The weather was still warm despite it being completely dark outside, so your athletic shorts and oversized tee did just fine. You’d contemplated wearing a skirt but ultimately decided against it because you didn’t want him to think you’d give it up that easily. Even though you were already struggling greatly to contain your excitement.

He could hear the clinking of the glass beer bottles as you made your way to the shed through the freshly cut yard. As much as Mingyu would love to deny it, he hadn’t stopped thinking about you since this morning. Something about the way you were laid out in the sun this morning had left a permanent imprint on his mind. The secrecy of the situation was also incredibly appealing. It turned him on more than he’d like to admit, messing around with his boss’s incredibly hot daughter.

Mingyu wasn’t an idiot. He knew you were taking your sweet time on purpose. You’d made him wait half an hour just to see if he’d wait around for you that long. You wanted to see how bad he wanted it, and clearly, he wanted it pretty bad because you found him sitting on the bench behind the shed staring up at the stars.

“Sorry, I’m late.”

He laughed, “Sure you are.” He held out a hand.

You passed him a bottle as you sat down next to him.

“I thought maybe you’d changed your mind, but it seems you just enjoy the idea of making people wait for you.”

“Maybe,” you turned so your knees just barely brushed his thigh, “But you waited for me didn’t you?”

“Hey, maybe I just wanted free beer.” He gestured to the bottle in his hand.

“I know for a fact my dad pays you enough for you to afford your own beer.”

He laughed and leaned his head back against the shed, giving you a full view of his neck. You couldn’t help but imagine kissing his neck, leaving plenty of marks in your wake. “He sure does. It’s one of the many benefits.”

“What else do you like about the job?” You were genuinely curious about what was so appealing about doing nothing but manual labor for an entire summer. Even if the paycheck was really good.

He shrugged, “I don’t know. Gets me off my ass. Gives me something to do with my hands.”

“Oh? You good with your hands?”

“You just don’t let up do you?” He really did enjoy how insistent you were despite your attempts to make him pine after you by making him wait for you so long. 

“Not unless I’m asked to.”

You ended up talking with Mingyu for two hours. The two of you drank and talked about your lives, school, home, past flings, and relationships. By the time you two of you had finished off the six-pack you’d brought out, you felt as if you’d been out there forever. 

At some point, you’d put your legs over his lap. He caressed one of your calves with one hand while you played with the fingers of his other hand.

As much as you’d enjoyed this little conversation, the more you drank, the hotter he got, and you were hardly holding it together anymore. With every move of his hand on your calf, you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter.

You took the hand that was already in yours and placed it on your cheek, “Mingyu…” you whined looking up at him.

“What, baby?” his thumb stroked your cheek.

You straddled his lap, sitting back on his thighs and moving down his neck and to his chest, “can we stop talking for a little bit?”

“Oh?” he questioned, lightly placing his hand on your lower back under your shirt, “What do you suppose we do instead?”

“Can I kiss you?” You asked leaning further into him so that your chests were touching.

“You can do whatever you want, baby.”

That was all the confirmation you needed to lean completely into him and kiss him. The kiss was long and more passionate than any kiss you’d experienced from your past summer flings. His hands were on your ass, pulling you to hover over his crotch where you could obviously tell he was hard. And that would have made you smug if you hadn’t been sitting in your own arousal for at least an hour. 

You kissed down his neck just like you had previously imagined. He let out a deep moan with every mark and bite you made. You had failed to realize that one of his hands had left your ass until you felt a hand brush over your completely clothed pussy.

“Baby, as much as I love these cute little shorts, can I take them off of you?”

Nodding furiously, you leaned back, pulled yourself off of his lap and pulled off your shorts and shirt, setting them on the bench beside him. Of course, you weren’t wearing a bra, something Mingyu had noticed almost immediately when you’d sat down beside him. Before you made your way back to his lap, you reached for the hem of that stupid, useless white tank top that covered virtually nothing. You pulled it over his head with ease. 

“Wow–” you whispered.

He laughed and pulled you back into his lap, “As flattered as I am,” he ran a hand up your side, “I could say the same thing about you.”  

Before you could even think about how to respond Mingyu’s face was in your chest, feverishly placing kisses on your tits. He grabbed one with his hand and rolled the nipple between his fingers.

You gripped onto his hair and moaned softly. Your hips rolled over his clothed dick multiple times before he finally shucked off his jeans which had become uncomfortably tight. 

“Can I please fuck you now?” he asked.

“Please,” you begged completely forgoing the chance to tease him for his politeness.

You pulled down the waistband of his boxers and grabbed him. Running a thumb over the tip, you pulled his cock out and pumped it a couple of times. “God, baby. You better hurry up.”

He slid your panties to the side and ran a finger between your folds, “you sure you don’t want me to prep you?”

You shook your head. So much for making him wait. “I’ll be ok. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

He nodded and reached to grab a condom from his pocket. Of course, he’d come prepared. When he failed to open it fast enough, you snatched it out of his hands and ripped it open with your own teeth. You rolled it onto him after what felt like an agonizingly long amount of time. 

He positioned himself at your entrance and slid himself into you with relative ease. You threw your head back when he bottomed out. You covered your mouth in an attempt to keep yourself at least a little quiet. 

“F-fuck, Mingyu!”

“Shit, you’re so tight,” he grunted out, “I’m gonna need you to move, baby. Can you do that for me?” 

You nodded and gripped onto his shoulder. As you started bouncing up and down on his cock, he buried his face back in your chest, kissing and biting at your tits, collarbone, and neck. He left plenty of marks on your chest that were identical to the ones you’d left on his neck, maybe even darker. You had brought your own hand to your clit. Desperately trying to find your release. 

“Oh god Gyu, I’m so close,” you grabbed onto his hair.

He hissed from the stinging in his scalp, “Me too, angel, me too.” His face was in your neck when you’d finally reached your climax, and he followed immediately after.

You both sat there, chests heaving, for a couple of minutes, saying nothing.

“Wow,” was all he could say as he pulled you off his lap and helped you put your clothes back on, tossing the condom into the trash bin beside the bench. You made a mental note to take the trash out before your dad came out here tomorrow.

You laughed breathily, “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him. Your hands found their way to his chest instinctively. “Can I see you tomorrow night?”

“Oh, was that not enough for you?”

“God, no, that was perfect. But I wanna take care of you for real next time.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I have a truck,” he nodded toward the red pickup truck in your driveway, “I can drive it down to the creek. The bed of the truck is actually pretty comfy when you put blankets and pillows down.”

Laughing, you said, “You want to fuck me in the woods.” He shook his head, “I wanna eat you out in the woods.”

God, this was gonna be a fun summer.

✭✭✭✭

“Girl, what!? It’s only been a day?” Jennifer’s voice rang through the phone. “Was it good?’

“For outside bench sex? Yeah, it was great. We’re seeing each other tomorrow night.”

She groaned, “Ugh, you lucky bitch. I’m so jealous.”

“What? No Spanish hunks?”

She shook her head, “not yet. But I’m hopeful!” 

“Do you still want updates, or are you gonna explode from jealousy?”

“No! Please keep me updated. I’m living vicariously through you.”

You laughed, “God you’re insufferable.”

“I know!” She batted her eyelashes at you, “You will keep me updated though, right.”

“Of course, how could I not.”

✭✭✭✭

thank you for reading! i knocked this shit out in two days (and you can probably tell 👀), but i'm genuinely surprised with myself.

anyway hope you enjoyed. reblog and like if you did! love hearing your thoughts

mwah~

#seventeen smut #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #seventeen x reader #18+ mdni #mdni #everyonewooeverywhere