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thelazycat220 · 3 years

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The Fight Female Reader x Cooper x Prince Darnell

Everyday in your life was always the same thing: waking up every morning to eat breakfast, go over your daily schedule in life, and wind down to go to sleep. It was the same things over and over. Trolls in your life were always so happy about their everyday lives that you wondered if they ever grew tired of the same thing.

So today, you decided to do something different. Ripping up your glitter-covered paper, you that huffed to yourself saying that it was time for change, you were the boss of your own life, and a flimsy piece of paper can't control it. You got to your room and got out your berry-picking basket and your hat, rushing out the door without even caring if your door was closed or not.

The sun was pretty bright, almost being a bit of a blind sight to look at. Walking into the forest were shade was constant year-round was a lovely choice. Wild strawberries were at its reddest and biggest. Your mother once told you that a juicy strawberry was a good strawberry. And you believed that once you picked a strawberry. Licking your lips with hunger, you reached out for a strawberry when you saw a glimpse of something. Turning to the left side of your body, you saw one of the strawberry bush leaves being a stain of red.

Kneeling, you examined it a bit more, realizing that it wasn't strawberry juice, since it was pink. No, this red stain was a maroon, and it smelled metallic. You swiped the leave with your finger and before you knew it, it was blood.

A shiver was sent down your spine. Was there a chance that a troll was wondering in the woods and he or she got hurt? What if they were attacked by a creature? Or a Bergen? Dropping your basket, you looked around to see if their was anymore blood in sight, walking to North. Indeed there was, in blood-red footprints, smears on trees' trunks, not to mention a few skinny branches dripping some. Queasiness started to settle in your body, growing more and more fearsome. Everywhere you looked was like the inside of a murder house, or horror movie for that matter.

You walked some more, before the sole of your foot rested on something soft and fuzzy, like one of your knitting projects. Looking down, you saw a green scarf, dirtied by small amounts of blood, swipes of dirt and leaves clinging to your fabric. Taking your foot away from the scarf, you picked it up and realized that it was a Christmas present you made for Cooper. Oh, God, Cooper! What if he was the one injured?

Panicking with fright, your troll ears perked up to listen to something. It sounded like echoing shouts and screams of frustration. But you didn't know where they were coming from. You stayed quiet and listened, the sounds were coming from the West side, just beyond the thorn bushes that bloomed poisonous Nightshade berries. You knew that once a troll ate a Nightshade berry, they would die in brutal ways that would even traumatize a baby. The first incident you heard from Nightshade berry-related deaths were just straight-up horrific: a Pop troll ate one and puke blood; two Rock trolls ate a handful and died from overdose of it; a family of Country trolls were found dead with their parts hacked off and hanging from trees, the dad survived only cause the he was the one who ate the Nightshade berries, giving him hallucinations that resulted into murdering his family.

And the last incident was a small little Classical girl that ate a couple by accident, her belly swollen painfully before the skin bursted and her organs fell out.

You shuddered, whatever was behind those bushes were the only way of saving Cooper. Slowly, you crept up to the bushes the sounds more clear to what sounded like Cooper and...someone else? Being careful with your fingers, you pulled apart the thorny bushes, gasping from what you saw that shocked you from the core.

You watched in horror as you saw the royal Funk troll brother--Cooper and Darnell. You figured out everything--the blood, Cooper's scarf, even the screams. They all belonged to the brothers. They were standing in a circle of dirt, already splattered with large amounts of red blood that seemed enough for a troll to bleed out. Cooper and Darnell were circling each other, growling at one another with eyes of anger and bloodlust.

They both looked horrible. Cooper had a gash on his forehead that drenched his face with his own blood; his front left leg had a deep bleeding wound that had a large stick stuck out, which had him limping a bit; he had inch-deep lashes on his back, his once pink fur now dyed with red; his hind legs wrapped in the Nightshade berries' bush thorns, covered in scrapes and scratches along with a couple thorns digging into the skin; his long neck covered in bruises.

Darnell had sustained more damaged than his twin: he had a blackeye with a bloodshot eye, no trace of white was replaced by red; all four of his legs appeared to be stabbed terribly, gushes of blood pouring out; his ear had no piercing, it had been torn off; twigs and leaves clung to his fur, a vine of Nightshade thorns pierced his skin that was wrapped around his body; and his neck was covered in bites, bleeding out, Cooper must've done that, which were proven by Cooper's teeth being stained with a dark pink. And his feet were covered in lacerations.

Both of them succumb heavy breathing, then, charged at each other with screaming out their lungs. Attacking each other with all their power. You watched in horror as they continued to fight each other to death. You knew that you had to stop from killing each other, but were afraid about what might happen if you stood yourself between the two.

Cooper then punched Darnell in the face, striking him down to the earthly soil, his knuckle dyed with Darnell's blood. Alas, due to the damage Darnell had, he was weak and fell back down on the dirt. Cooper smiled as he walked up to his brother, kneeling with something in his hand. Darnell's head was a bit up, until you heard something sizzle that was mixed with Darnell's scream of pain. Cooper had a thick birch branch that had its end glowing red hot, burning Darnell's cheek when the tip touched his face.

Spitting out blood, Darnell growled out to Cooper, "You bitch...(Y/N) is mine and will always will be..." A tingling sensation flowed through your body, hearing your name through the weak Funk prince almost made you fell in love.

Cooper scoffed, looking amused. "Oh no, twin bro, she's MINE. You're just going to be wolf meat, and when the wolves can't finish you off, the maggots will come and eat away what's left. And then, all that's left of you will be rotten bones covered in mold; no one's going to miss you."

You gasped, immediately coming out of the bushes and started to shout: "STOP IT! Both of you--just stop!" Both twins looked up to see you terrified. Cooper dropped the fired-up branch and smiled nervously at you.

"Heeeey, (Y/N)! S-Sorry you had to see this, we were just, uh, playing a game!" Cooper smiled, but you frowned.

"Playing a game that involves both of you to fight to the death? That doesn't even sound fun!" You then gasped once more, kneeling down the weak Darnell, who groaned in pain. "And look what you two are doing to each other! Do King Quincy and Queen Essence know about this?! Imagine what would happen if they found that their own sons tried to kill each other?"

Both of them had a moment of reality, the two looking guilty that they tried to commit an act of murder to each other. Darnell tried to sit up, but the pain overflowed his body and he fell down once more. New trickles of blood began to stain your hands and the cuffs of your sweater. "Oh no, Darnell! You're bleeding! We have to get you help before it gets worse." You wrapped one of his arms around your neck, grunting to realize that he was heavy. "Cooper, help me."

Taking his other arm to help you out, both of you began to exit out of the forest, then Cooper said apologetically: "I'm...sorry about the fight. We were just...well..."

You sighed, then smiling at the Funk twin. "It's alright Coop. You don't have to fight over me. I love you both." You grunted once more. "C'mon, let's get your brother to my pod, I have some medicine stuff for him."

(Written by LGBTQLover on FanFiction.Net)

#trolls cooper #x reader #trolls prince d

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keelywolfe · 4 years

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FIC: The Rose and the Thorn: Chapter 5 (Mafia AU)

Summary: So where was Blue while Rus was off getting kidnapped and how did he end up with Red, anyway?

Tags: Spicyhoney, Mafia AU, Flower Shop AU, Violence, First Meetings

Warnings: Some violence. A wee bit of unwanted touching and some innuendo.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

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Read on AO3

Read it here!

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It was barely afternoon and Blue was already tired. He’d spent the morning coaxing a variety of flowers in their garden into bloom, gently forcing them to quickly travel through their growth cycles until they were ready to be cut and added to a bouquet.

Normally, their garden had a rigid schedule to keep from pushing the plants too much; stimulated growth could only go so far, after all. But losing most of their stock was forcing Blue to abandon it. Using so much magic in such a short amount of time was exhausting and when Blue parked in their assigned spot, the elderly van wheezing to a stop, he took a moment to sit in the sagging driver’s seat, ignoring the spring pushing through the cheap vinyl to poke at his coccyx as he closed his sockets for just a moment.

There really wasn’t time for a rest. Papy was waiting on these flowers, likely working hard since this morning readying the baskets for Blue’s delivery. There were funerary floral arrangements to be made, birthday gifts, romantic gestures, and every one of them added desperately needed profits back into their coffers.

Rest would have to wait. Instead, Blue pawed through the glove box, past the yellowed owner’s manual and an odd collection of fast food napkins to find a granola bar in its depths. Tastelessly stale, the chocolate chips cast in a white haze and Blue ate it anyway, chewing without tasting. It would help revive his magic and he’d be able to paste on his sunniest smile for Papyrus when he got inside.

His little brother was working so terribly hard, so many long hours on his own. Blue’s soul was so tight with pride, it felt as if it were ready to explode and shower his Papy with it, even as he kept the underling guilt hidden away, tucked back where his brother wouldn’t have to deal with it.

This was his fault. Papy shouldn’t have to deal with the brunt of the stress. He’d abandoned his own faint hopes for college to help Blue with the business, worked hard without a fuss. He learned to make flower arrangements from bouquets to corsages, how to run the registers, how to smile and charm their customers into buying more than they intended. This was Blue’s dream, not his, but he’d thrown himself in entirely, and Blue didn’t want him to know about the bills rubberstamped in red ‘past due’ ink. He didn’t want Papy to worry about their dwindling savings.

The insurance money would help, quite a bit if the representative he spoke to yesterday was correct, and they only needed to last the few weeks until it came.

A little hard work hadn’t dusted him yet, Blue told himself as he got out of the van and retrieved the first heavy bucket of cut flowers; lilies, for the funeral arrangements. A few weeks more wasn’t going to do any harm.

When he got to the shop door, for a moment Blue didn’t understand why it wouldn’t push open. Then he realized the open sign was off, the door was locked tight. The shop was closed, on a Friday afternoon when all the lovesick swains got their paychecks and were ready to pick up flowers in hopes of a romantic weekend and they’d be purchasing their bouquets elsewhere because his shop was closed.

Later, Blue would be ashamed his first instinct was largely irritated; had his silly brother forgotten to leave the door open for customers, they did have some stock! But that was not for more than a startled second, long enough for him to see the broken mug scattered across the stoop.

He leaned down to pick up a shard of the plastic, absently noting the tremble in his hand. It had been his brother’s favorite travel mug, a silly thing he’d gotten it at the thrift shop, leftover from some Halloween or another. The skeletons that danced around it would dance no more, the piece Blue held had lost its legs, and he took very little comfort in the fact there was no dust on the broken pieces because there was a single splotch of redness, a near-perfect circle of dried marrow.

Someone had hurt his brother, Humans, perhaps the same ones from yesterday and how had he ever believed in his naiveté that Humans would welcome them to the surface with open arms.

“now thems some pretty flowers you got there.”

Startled, Blue turned towards that voice, ready to tell them with as much forced politeness as he could muster that they were currently closed, and would the police even come if he called them, would they even care, who else could he possibly—

Then he caught sight of who spoke, and his soul felt as if it froze right in his rib cage, icy fingers digging in and oh, his little brother was in far worse trouble than Blue could have ever guessed.

He’d never met the Fells, neither on the Surface or below it. The Underground was a big place and the madscrabble life they’d grown accustomed to in Ebott did not lend itself to making new acquaintances. Not that Blue frequented the sorts of places where one might meet the Fells. No, he’d never met them, but he knew them by reputation. Thugs, whispered along the gossip-line, loan sharks, racketeers, even murderers said the quietest rumors, though not for very long.

This one could only be the older brother, Red. He stood only a bit taller than Blue and nearly twice as broad, with little resemblance past the fact they were both skeleton Monsters. His teeth curved into a jagged, shark grin, unlike Blue’s blunted smile and his eye lights were the burning crimson of an ember. His dark expensive suit with its rich scarlet shirt boasted of handsewn silks, and the fingers holding his cigar were circled with gold rings whose stones were too garishly large to be anything but real. His other hand was tucked into his pocket, oddly threatening for its nonchalance. Flanking him were two large Dog monsters, white on white ties and shirts, and Blue was suddenly struck by the absurdity of it all.

His little flower shop along with his brother had somehow been transported into some ridiculous Godfather-esque alternate, only proved by Red exhaling a billowing cloud of smoke as he said, “but it looks t’me like you’ve got a lil’ trouble bloomin’. lose somethin’? or mebbe someone.”

Inappropriate laughter bubble up, choked away, and Blue heard himself say, “I suppose I did.”

Red nodded as if Blue had offered not a stream of wisdom, but an entire glistening fountain. He started pulling his hand out of his pocket and Blue tensed, angel-only knew what thoughts about guns or knives shooting through his mind. But that hand was empty and Red only plucked one of the lilies from the bucket, running a razor-tipped finger along the satiny petals.

“Are you here to help with that? My…my missing person?” Blue asked at last. Not that he wanted to, he didn’t, but his options were few, any choices dwindled away. There was no one else to ask and with every second that went by, the danger his brother was in could only be growing. This had something to do with yesterday, Blue was sure of it, and he couldn’t even imagine what sort of trouble his sweet, funny brother had gotten into to cause all this.

Rumor had it Red never broke his word, that he had a twisted way of keeping it, a monkey’s paw wish. But for his brother, Blue would have bargained with the devil incarnate.

He wondered if he was.

“could be,” Red said idly. He twirled the flower stem between his fingers. “you got quite the green thumb, dontcha.”

“Yes?” Blue agreed, warily. He’d heard that before when they’d first come to the Surface, and his refusal to grow drugs had been a costly one, losing him possible allies. He wondered dismally what conundrum he was about to be balanced on for his brother’s safety.

“hm.” Red gave the lily a considering sniff, “might have to see if we can drive your posy sales a lil’ better, after we get past this oopsie daisy.”

Blue didn’t know what that meant but he was sure he wouldn’t like it.

“tell ya what,” Red gave him a conspiratorial wink and a finger gun, as if they were close pals and not a known criminal chatting with a simple florist, “me and the neighborhood watchdogs here, we’ll take care of it. you hang tight and we’ll get your bro back to you.”

Blue didn’t ask how they knew it was his brother. He didn’t ask a thing. He simply crossed his arms over his chest and said, “No, I don’t think so. I’m coming with you.”

That earned him a deep frown, “baby blue, i think mebbe you didn’t hear me so good.”

“I heard you perfectly well,” Blue told him and didn’t bother with any astonishment over what this…this person might know or not know about him. Nicknames and whatnot were not important. Papy was. “And I don’t care. I’m coming with you and I’m staying until I see my brother.”

A low growl came from one of the Dogs, silenced instantly when Red held out a hand. Those jagged teeth curved into an unpleasantly wide grin, “you think so, eh. and if i say no?”

It was not particularly difficult to work up some tears, they’d been hovering thickly beneath the surface the moment Blue found that broken coffee mug. He let them loose now, wailing as loudly as he could, “How can you leave me like this!” Fat droplets rolled down his cheeks, huge sobs gasped out, “and with a baby on the way?”

Red froze, his cigar drooping in his teeth as his grin fell away so abruptly Blue half-expected it to shatter on the stoop with the remains of Papy’s coffee mug. All around them the people on the sidewalk who’d been previously been looking discreetly away were abruptly watching with avid interest, aghast and greedily outraged as Blue wept loudly, one hand pressed against his apron to his belly over their nonexistent child. A few people were shuffling their feet as if considering playing the hero, weighing their odds against a cruel wealthy ex-boyfriend and his friends casting aside a tiny pregnant clerk.

“get in the fucking car,” Red muttered. He tossed the lily on the ground, trodding on it as he turned to do the same. Blue tried not to see the mangled flower as a metaphor and followed, hopping through the open door that one of the Dogs closed firmly behind him.

He settled into the enormous leather seat, buckling his seatbelt to at least make it more difficult if Red decided it might well be easier to simply shove him out of the car on the next block.

Not that Red seemed to be considering it. He was rummaging through a small bar installed in the side door, pouring a finger’s worth of what was probably very expensive whiskey into a crystal glass, knocking it back in a single gulp. He poured another then settled back in his seat with it, crimson eye lights targeting Blue.

“you got some balls, kid,” he grumbled. It almost sounded grudgingly admiring but there wasn’t time to worry about that.

“Can you promise me you’ll get my brother back to me? Safe and sound,” Blue hastened to add.

“sure, toots. we’ll get your bro back in mostly one piece,” Red said. He grinned again, all jaggedly sharp teeth as Blue’s gorge rose, purring out, “nah, he’ll be all safe and sound. got someone on it right now, and not one of the usual mutts, neither. he’ll get your bro. meantime, we got some things we can discuss, you and me.”

Blue lifted his chin defiantly. He’d known what he was getting into. If there was a price to be paid for saving his brother, Blue would offer his own soul on a silver platter. But there was no reason for Papy to know. “I’m sure we do, so long as it’s a private discussion between us.”

Those crimson eye lights gleamed and Blue could very nearly hear the invisible chains of fate closing around him. “good boy. now, let’s talk about you, baby blue. how’s business?”

-fin

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#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #mafia au

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heavenlydreamerblog · 5 years

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In Too Deep

Chapter 19

So, I’m posting this early, to get it out there and move swiftly on. You can expect Chapter 20 hot on the heels. Sorry If I’m messing with you but this chapter’s been a bitch ... so here it is!

Check out the other chapters on my Wattpad account: https://www.wattpad.com/user/HeavenlyDreamerBlog

Here’s the tag list! Let me know if you want to be added x

@letsbeautifuldisaster @llfd1977 @nikkitasevoli @letojokerownsme @wolfgirl624 @beautorigin @jaredlxto @i-writeandread @darlingdiary87 @reikihealermary @msroxyblog @lifeonmars30 @myxtina @pixieriding @lostinletoland

Slowly, I stretched my aching limbs, bumping my hip against Shannon’s slumbering body which was curled protectively around mine.

Gently, I lifted his arm from across my waist, feeling his heavy fingers drag softly across my belly. I shivered at the memory of last night, intoxicated by the sexual thrill of pushing him over the edge and watching him fall apart in my arms.

“Babe, I have to go,” I whispered, stroking the skin at the back of his neck. He stirred, turning over to wrap himself back into the warmth of my body.

“Stay here for another five minutes,” he murmured, his lips pressed against my shoulder. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest and his warm breath washing across my neck.

“No can do Shan,” I gasped as he nipped his teeth into my shoulder. I rolled over, swinging my feet onto the tiled floor. I shivered as the cold worked its way through my toes and upwards to my hardened nipples. Damn! I grabbed a sheet from the floor to hide behind. “I’m off in the shower,” I called out, looking back at his muscled body, barely concealed by the thin cotton sheet.

I turned on the water, waiting for the shower screen to mist over with the heat before stepping in. The warmth rolled in waves across my body, relieving the sexual aches and clearing my mind for the day ahead. I let the water run through my hair before lathering shampoo into the roots and massaging my scalp.

Away from the steady beat of the shower, I could hear a phone ringing in the bedroom, followed by the indistinct murmur of Shannon’s voice. I quickly rinsed my hair before stepping out and wrapping myself in a bath robe, straining to hear just part of the one-sided conversation.

Shannon’s POV

I’m lying here listening to Lexy in the shower, debating whether to join her. I smile remembering her whispering to me as I fell asleep in her arms last night. I turn over and bury my face in the pillow, inhaling her smell, desperately wanting her back in bed with me.

My thoughts are broken by the sudden ringing of a phone. I curse the bad timing … feeling my cock twitch into life under the sheets. I reach down and stroke myself, hoping the ringing will stop. It does but then rings again. “Fuck,” I mutter, lying half out of bed stretching to reach it on the floor. I groan, seeing Jared’s name flash up.

I hit answer. “Bro, what’s up?” I speak slowly, while wrapping my hand around the base of my shaft, stilling myself in the moment, feeling my muscles tighten with the rush of blood to my dick.

“Thought I’d check out your new girl Shan,” he smirked. “I’ve just seen the Instagram post. That’s some early birthday present you’ve got.”

I slow my hand, closing my eyes while trying to calm myself. With everything going on between me and Lexy I’d forgotten my moment of Instagram madness. Fuck. Has Jared recognised her, I wondered.

I groaned into the phone: “J this isn’t the greatest timing for one of your interrogations. Can we please talk later!”

“Shan you’re hopeless … what’s she doing to make you so breathless?” I could almost see the childish grin on his face. He delighted in pushing my buttons to see how I’d react.

“Ok J. You’re a jerk! She’s a gorgeous woman and I love her. I’m sure you’ll love her too bro.” I clicked end call before he could have the final word.

My phone buzzed. Jared: Hope the sex is off the wall ❤️❤️❤️

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

I stepped out from the bathroom and grabbed my pile of clothes off the floor. I cursed myself for not folding them neatly, trying to shake out the creases. “Who was that on the phone?” I asked, trying to sound casual but desperate to find out more about the whispered conversation.

“Come back to bed Lexy.” His voice had that just-awake sexiness that any other day would make me melt into his arms. But not today.

“Not the answer I was looking for Shan.” I laughed looking at the sheet tented over his growing erection. “Who was on the phone?”

“Jared! Now will you come back to bed?” he pleaded.

“Jared? What did he want?” I could feel the colour drain from my cheeks.

Shannon’s eyes cast away from me. “Lexy, he’s seen the Instagram post of you and me. I don’t think he knows it’s you though babe.”

I was sitting on the edge of the bed trying to calm myself. “You know I have to go and work with him for the rest of the day Shan. What if he knows it’s me?” I could see the hurt in his eyes as I struggled to rein in my emotions. “I’m sorry Shan,” I leaned over and let our lips touch. “I love you … but I have to go see your brother.”

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

Emma greeted me at the door with a huge smile and hug. I laughed as she flung her arms around me and dragged me inside.

“You’ve done the most amazing job Lexy. Come through and have a look.” She took my hand and lead me down the hallway and outside. Sure enough, I’d cracked the whip and obviously they’d jumped to attention. The cocktail bar out by the pool looked spectacular and the DJ area was rigged up and ready to go. I also noted that the extra tables and seating had been shipped in and were being assembled inside ready for the caterers when they arrived.

Emma tapped me on the shoulder and beckoned me upstairs. “This was such a great idea of yours Lexy,” she said, laughing as she dragged me into the guest bedroom.

WOW! She was right. I knew Shannon and Jared loved a massage, so on a whim I’d hired a masseuse for the night as a treat for them. I gazed wide-eyed, amazed at the transformation. The room was littered with candles, blankets and a huge massage table took pride of place in the middle. I looked around, feeling a smile flick the corners of my mouth . The smell of jasmine and sweet orange oils infused the air. “It’s amazing Emma. I think they’ll love this,” I murmured.

“Are we keeping this door locked, so Jared can’t see what we’ve got planned?” I asked, eager not to spoil the surprise.

“No worries there Lexy. It’s a military operation. This room’s under lock and key, I promise.” She winked and closed the door behind her. “Anyway, you’d better go and find Jared. He wants to discuss things.” She waved goodbye and sauntered back down stairs, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I took a deep breath and dug into my pocket for my phone, scrolling through endless contacts until I found Jared’s number. Two rings and he picked up. “Hey, where are you in this house?” I sighed, not feeling confident enough to go knocking on doors and searching for him.

“Where are you Lexy?”

“Just outside the guest bedroom.”

“I’ll come get you, don’t move.”

He clicked off, leaving me alone with thoughts of last night. I could still feel his lips brushing across my cheek before he left my house. Suddenly I felt completely vulnerable and overwhelmed by emotions beyond my control.

I tried breathing deeply but everything around me seemed to become distant: sounds were echoing and I had tunnel vision. Gradually I felt the world disappearing until my legs buckled and I was wrapped in a comforting blackness.

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

“Lexy! Baby come on. You’re OK, you’re OK baby.” The voice was soothing and the words seemed to come from another universe. Slowly I opened my eyes trying to work out where I was.

“Lexy, it’s OK I’m here. What happened sweetheart?” I turned my head to find Jared on his knees by the bed, his hand stroking my face.

“What happened J? Where am I?”

“I don’t know but I think you fainted. I found you unconscious. You sure you’re OK?” he asked, climbing on to the bed and gently pulling me into his arms. I nodded feeling my forehead brush against his chest.

“I’m OK . I just need to get on with this party. We need to discuss ...” but his fingers hushed me, pressing against my lips.

“You’re doing nothing until I say so, understand?” This was Jared being dominant and I knew I stood no chance arguing the point.

“You’re exhausted. Just stop for a moment and listen to me.” His fingers brushed a strand of hair from my face and traced a line to the nape of my neck, stroking the skin until my eyes closed.

“I’m sorry about last night Lexy.” His voice was a whisper, not like the confident Jared I’m used to. “I had no right turning up like that. I was bang out of order.”

Bit by bit, he was chipping away at the wall I’d tried building between us. I shifted my body so he had more space, giving him room to mould his body around mine. Breathe Lexy, I told myself, Don’t give in.

I let the silence engulf us, enjoying the warmth of his arms wrapped around me in a tender embrace. “Am I forgiven Lexy?”

I gulped and slowly nodded my head. “Yes, you’re forgiven.” I arched my head back, feeling his beard tickle my face. His cool blue eyes stared down, daring me to continue.

What had Shannon said to me? I remembered the words: “I’m not mad Lexy. Just a little turned on thinking of you with Jared.”

I hadn’t realised how close these two were.

“Lie down babe.” He broke the silence, easing his hand behind my neck, lowering me back on to the pillow. “How are you feeling now?” he asked softly. “Here, have some water.” He reached over and unscrewed the cap, bringing the bottle to my lips. I sipped slowly, the cool liquid welcome on my dry throat.

“Thanks J.” I smiled as he dabbed at a trickle of water running down my chin. “I’m feeling more myself now,” I sighed a little embarrassed by what had just happened.

“My pleasure baby girl,” he murmured, his hand remaining on my chin before tracing the curve of my neck and along my shoulder.

I could see he looked distracted, not the usual Jared I was used to.

I let my hand smooth down the contours of his back, rubbing his muscles and trying to get him to relax. He felt like a coiled spring as my fingers gently eased the tension away. “What’s up J? Something’s on your mind so tell me,” I insisted, noticing him close his eyes and take a deep breath.

“Lexy you must realise it’s two days until the party.”

I frowned. “Yes, but we’ve got almost everything sorted now. What’s the problem?”

“Your contract with me ends in two days Lexy ... two days and you’re free to go back to Carrie and Jess and your old office.”

I hadn’t thought of it like that. I’d been so caught up with the arrangements, with Shannon and the party excitement that I’d forgotten my time with Jared was finite. I watched the conflicting emotions in his face.

“What do you want Jared?” I spoke slowly, perhaps afraid of the answer.

“I’ll ask you the same question Lexy. What do you want?”

He moved away from me, striding to the bedroom door and flicking the lock.

I watched him move gracefully to the window and shut the blinds, the room instantly bathed in cooling shadows.

He turned to me. “You asked me what I wanted.” He padded softly to the bed and scooted his body up close. “This is what I want baby. I want you and me. I want to feel every inch of your body wrapped around me.” He paused. “What I don’t want is to lose you in two days’ time.”

I can feel every inch of resolve just evaporating in the heat of our bodies. Jared and Shannon are like opposite sides of the same coin, so different yet impossible to part.

I feel more and more tangled in their web, unable and unwilling to escape either of them.

Jared reached over, his fingers pulling at the hem of my shirt before easing them under to trace circles over my stomach. Every fibre of my body tensed at the sensation. “Tell me Lexy, do you trust me not to hurt you?”

What did Shannon say? “I’m not mad Lexy. Just a little turned on thinking of you with Jared.”

I closed my eyes and nodded slowly, waiting for his next move.

#shannon leto #shannon leto fanfic #shannon leto fanfiction #jared leto #jared leto fan fic #jared leto fan fiction #30stm #jared leto 30stm #30stm fanfiction #shannon leto 30stm #in too deep #black fuel #chicklit

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pinkletterday · 5 years

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What are your 3 or 4 most underrated fanfics, that you think should be higher on your kudos/hits list? Rec them!

1. Kiss it Better

Pairing: Barry Allen/ Iris West

Summary: Barry and Iris only have one parent between them. They make do.

Notes: As you probably know by now, this fic is my favourite child of all I have written. I love child!Iris so much my heart hurts and the young woman, wife and mother she grows into is everything to me.

Excerpt:

When they play house, Iris insists on being the Dad and Barry agrees to be the Mom. Iris pretends to strap on her gun and badge, drops kisses onto Barry's and the children's heads at the table and bids goodbye in a deep voice that makes both of them giggle. Iris watches with avid interest as Barry reads Luke and Leia bedtime stories and makes them noodle soup when they're sick.

2. The Care and Feeding Series

Pairing: Oliver Queen/ Barry Allen/ Iris West

Summary:

Rules for the Care and Feeding Of Oliver Queen, Iris West and Barry Allen.

Ft. Buttercup and Bubbles, Cisco Ramon and Deathstroke the Crossfit Bro.

Notes: I feel like the captain of HMS Queenwestallen sometimes. No one seems as into this OT3 quite as much as I am. But oh well. I love that I wrote this, because its ridiculously indulgent of my compulsion for quipping and runaway train banter. And the fact that it's not so much about sex and romance so much as three people and their cast of meddlesome friends being loveable dorks.

Excerpt:

10. The Question "What Do You Want For Dinner?" Must Be Answered Within Five Minutes Tops Or Barry Is Allowed To Ditch Both You Losers And Go Get Food By Himself. 'Cause Otherwise It Is Like Living In An Endless Purgatory Of A Food Debate In Hypertime While His Stomach Tries To Eat Itself.

"I'm sorry I try to be a little bit conscientious about what we put in our bodies. I don't have superpowers so if I keep eating Big Belly Burgers I'll soon be too heavy for my grappling hook and then I'll die."

"Oh feh, Drama Queen. It's not even that you are actually absurdly picky, it's that you categorically deny that you are. I ask you what you want to order and you start out with "Sniff. I have eaten pigeons and tree bark to survive, Iris, food is merely fuel for my holy mission -"

"I have never said that!"

"- and then shoot down every single suggestion we make for twenty minutes!"

"And then we eat Big Belly Burger anyway!"

"Which is great for Barry, and you, cause your biceps eat more carbs than you do. But li'l Ol' Wifey here? Needs to buy new pants. Because I am now both hungry and fat."

"Endless food purgatory, Oliver!"

3. The Universal Constant

Pairing: Gen, Barry Allen/Iris West, Henry Allen/Nora Allen

Summary: When Henry Allen dies in prison, Joe attempts to comfort his surrogate son. He is unprepared for Barry's hard truths.

In a multiversity of variables, certain things remain immutable.

Notes: I never thought I could write something like this because I am the least sciencey person and not very good with details. But this AU scene has been building up in my mind ever since Joe lit into Barry in the Pilot. Finally writing it down relieved a canker of years. Joe West is one of the most complex characters and father figures I've ever encountered and his relationship with Barry as complicated as it is loving.

Excerpt:

“That’s it,” the sudden chill in his bones burned away as he rounded on Barry furiously, trying to pierce through this terrible, impassive veil and rip out his son who was bleeding underneath. “Don’t think I dont know what you’re trying to do, Barry, but you are not him! You are not your father -”

“But I am his son,” he said with that same eerie calm, “the son of a murderer who has defended him all his life.”

“You’re my son!” said Joe angrily. “You’re the boy I raised! I know you!”

4. The Secrets Between Us

Pairing: Oliver Queen/ Barry Allen

Summary: Henry gets to meet the new man in his son's life.

Notes: In canon and fic, Henry Allen appears a little one-dimensional to me - the unconditionally supportive, loving and the idealized parent in contrast to Joe's more combative one. He usually reacts better to Barry's boyfriends in meet-the-parents fics. This never quite rang true to me. The man has spent fifteen years kicked in the gut by life; that kind of experience creates a darkness and distrust in a person that they wouldn't necessarily let their child see. He would be able to recognize that darkness reflected in others, even while being powerless to protect his son from them.

Excerpt:

Ten to eleven am every other Sunday had been the favourite part of Henry’s week for the past fourteen years.

It was his lifeline, when this claustrophobic purgatory of an existence “inside” felt like a sick joke, when he was tempted to burn away all traces of the man he had been and become just another bitter, angry shell drudging through the rest of his years. When he felt like giving into numb despair or bursting out like an enraged, mindless beast who would rather die than be caged a second longer, he held onto the thought of every other Sunday morning. Because at the end of every fortnight at ten am, rain or shine, his boy would come to see him.

I'm tagging my wifey @wonderingtheblue @wintertruffles @tobyaudax @sophiainspace @purpleyin @bold-sartorial-statement and whoever else wants to play. Self-promotion is good! Pimp yo work!

#the flash #westallen #myfic #fanfic #olivarry #arrow #fic rec #self-promotion #tagged

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iammarylastar · 7 years

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The Exception part 2: The run.

He squeezed her hand tighter in his. Shifting his body to scoot closer to her, he wrapped her securely in his arm, keeping them from jerking as the car swerved sharply to the right.

“It’s OK Mieke. Everything’s gonna be fine.” He drew his lips into a reassuring smile. But his eyes told her another story.

Gripping her rounded belly, she tried her best to suppress the grimace from her tired face.

Her back and abdomen hurt like hell but she never would let him know. Stefan was too anxious about the baby and their escape out of England, he could have cancelled the whole thing if he had known. She tried to relax her tensed body but the pain was alarmingly growing higher. Breathe Mieke!

“Cameron easy!” Stefan patted the driver’s shoulder. He too would be more comfortable if their friend could slow down a bit. Not that he wanted to enjoy the view, no, it was the middle of the night, but the relentless rough slalom started to get him sick. And guessing the discomfort through Mieke’s face didn’t help. He needed a smoke, so badly, but he was cursed with bad timing. Again.

“Sorry guys” the man answered “I’m doing my best with what’s left of that damn road. It’s like moles had invaded London and had fun to drill holes every fucking inch.” He glanced in the rear-view mirror and apologized for the curse. “Sorry Mieke…”

She swallowed a smirk, in a lame attempt to forgive him. As if it mattered. Moles. Everyone would have rather liked moles’ holes.

But it wasn’t. London had been under attack for months now. More than a year has gone by since England had declared war against Germany and its insane leader. The situation was going worse and worse not only in England but everywhere in Europe. That’s what motivated them to leave. Mieke didn’t want to give birth to their unexpected first child in a country in war.

War reminded her painful memories. Both her father and her first husband were killed. But first and foremost, she hated that awful Aryan race theory and the inhuman hunt for the Jewish people. Her people. She ceased to believe in God, after all the atrocities she had witnessed and those Stefan told her about the first world war, but Jewish blood was still running in her veins and through their growing child.

Stefan was not afraid by the war, he had been a soldier his entire life, ready to die for the Fatherland. But now that the poor Fatherland had become insane and cruel, his priorities had changed. He was devoted to her wife, body and soul and nothing else mattered than run for cover and offer a safer and saner place to settle his family.

When it came clear they couldn’t stay here, they both decided to try their luck in America. A country with better ideals and aspirations than bombing and destruction. The country of second chance and promised new start.

Through the decision was easy, taking flight was harder, mostly in circumstances of war. They were not the only candidates to exile and finding a boat to New York and enough money to bribe the right pen pusher and pay for the smuggler had been quite difficult. But they had connections. Thanks to Mieke’s job for the English crown, they had been provided with authentic falsified documents in a record time and for a reasonable price. And they had Cameron. He proposed a bunch of names which sounded more English than Brandt. America opened its arms to Jewish people, running for their lives, but unlikely to former German officers under Hitler’s command. Changing their names was the better way to avoid questioning and more troubles, even if it hurt Stefan to agree with the fact his son wouldn’t carry his real name.

Cameron was their neighbour, Wilma’s son precisely. He was a carpenter and often asked Stefan to give him a hand on a jobsite. He was kind enough to keep the hardest tasks for himself, Stefan’s condition kept him from carrying what’s heavy or hammerinĝ for too long. Besides that, Stefan was very capable and handy. He paid well and was always the life of the party. His great sense of humour fit Stefan’s and the pair had Mieke laughed out loud, which was music to their ears. Wilma lived next door, literally and was a delightful old lady, even if the loss of her two younger sons at the battlefield had diminished her. Far away from being a weak grandma, she was a strong, hilarious and loving woman, maybe a little bit too crazy when her brain played tricks. As a former self-made midewife, she showered Mieke with advices and old wives cures and predicted a boy. Which Mieke and Stefan took as fact, since Wilma was known to be unfailing. The aromatic herbs she prescribed to cure Mieke’s nauseas at the early stage of her pregnancy worked magic and since she advised that having sex was good for the baby, Stefan would agree with anything she’d say.

They finally reached the harbour, Cameron driving slowly and lightless along the docks, not to draw attention on them.

He finally stopped at the right spot of the loading area, where the next contact was supposed to wait for them and help them to board surreptitiously.

The cold air of February hit them as they get out of the car and despite her heavy coat, Mieke shivered. Stefan immediately wrapped her to warm her up, gently stroking her back, soothing both her pain and misery. He could have allowed himself that smoke he was craving but couldn’t resign himself to let go of her. She was cold and frightened, he had to be there and protect her.

Mieke felt better with her husband blanketed around her, whispering some comforting words in her ear. She melted into him, savouring this last moment of calm before the storm. Time has come to say goodbye, to England and Cameron. Through she felt thankful to this great country which welcomed her pregnant then married, leaving Cameron behind, unsure of his future and safety, pretty sure to never see him again, left her heartbroken and in tears.

“Take care love ” Cameron just uttered, stealing her from Stefan’s grip. “Travel safe and give us news when you arrive in New York.” He pulled her back just to cup her soaked face and stared at her intensely. “And keep that baby at bay for the next two weeks, so he could be born in America.” He shoved his hand in the inside pocket of his coat and handed her a paper-wrapped package, tied with a thin rope. “Mom did that for the baby. She told me to pass on her wishes of good fortune and happiness. She insisted on me to deliver her exact words. ‘I love you guys like you were my own children. This boy is somehow my grandchild and I want him safe and warm.’ He flatted his hand over her belly. ‘Travel safe my angels. I’ll pray for you every day until I get good news. And Curtis is the name you’ll give him.”

Mieke chuckled between her silent sobs and cries. Wilma harassed them with that particular name, arguing it sounded the utmost English name ever. Cameron laughed so hard at her mother, confessing the couple it was the name of her late dog.

'Yes, but it was the nicest and smartest dog ever. I pray your son to be like him.’ Wilma so seriously answered.

Mieke laughed so hard she nearly peed herself and ran to the water closet as fast as her swollen stomach allowed her. Stefan hurt himself laughing, hitting his scar in the movement. They hadn’t opted for Curtis yet.

Cameron released his grip on Mieke, only after wiping warm tears from her cheeks. “Don’t be sad love. Everything gonna be fine.” He whispered. Clinging to the package he had given her like it was a silver lining, arms tightly crossed over her breast, she nodded, sniffing.

Facing Stefan, Cameron opened his arms, welcoming his best friend inside his embrace. “Bro!” Was all he could say. Stefan hugged him back, patting his shoulder, eyes wide shut to prevent more tears to flow.

“Be careful brother. Make sure your wife is safe.” He advised in his ear.

“Will do Cam’. But be careful yourself and stop calling my wife love, OK ?” he warned, joking.

“That’s fair I guess. But you’re the next on my list. Wouldn’t it sound too viral if I’d call you love? In front of your wife?”

Stefan would have barked a laugh in other ordinary circumstances, but he wasn’t in the mood. He drew an honest smirk on his face and just bit his lower lip, his fierce stare showing his deep gratitude.

Stefan knew something was wrong. The guy was late, and it made him nervous. Mieke was chilled to the bone, her lips turning blue, shivering.

Where the fuck was he?

Turning his back to Cameron, he grabbed the only two luggage they allowed themselves to take for this one way trip.

“Travel light” his wife joked, gathering selected pieces they had to bring: underwear, dresses, some of his shirts and pants. Their wedding pic, because “your smile is to die for” she would say. A book. Nietzche’s “Beyond good and evil” with the note which changed their lives handwritten in the cover page. Two necklaces he offered her, one for Christmas, the other 'for no reason but I love you’. Toiletries. Food. Few items for the baby.

“New life. New start. New stuff.” She sang. “You have me, you don’t need anything more.” He agreed, catching her by the waist and bending her on the bed, him on top of her, devouring her neck with wet kisses while she shrieked and laughed out of loud.

He relaxed at the sweet memory of their past months together, happy and carefree , like any newlywed couple in constant honeymoon should be. Whistles code followed by heavy footsteps startled him and he immediately stepped forward to protect his wife.

“Nathan!” Cameron called in a loud whisper. “OK guys. It’s time. Good luck my friends. I hope to see you again. On this life or the next one. Love you!” His voice trembled and he quickly hopped in the car and disappeared in the darkness of the cold night.

Stefan gathered his thoughts, courage, package and wife altogether and walked towards the shadow standing still, half hidden next to the pile of wooden boxes. Stepping closer, he noticed the frown on the cold face of the man. He didn’t look menacing, but seriously pissed off.

The boat had left hours ago. Authorities had received a message that air raids were feared on the port at the crack of dawn and the American staff decided to protect the cargo. And ruin their plan. Though he didn’t deliver many, Nathan was a man of his words. He was paid to afford them a way out from this shitty war, he had to do so.

“Plan has changed.” He coldly mumbled.

The lady was obviously at a late stage of pregnancy, his first plan to make them climb the ship was definitely out of the realm of possibility. It would have been already dangerous for the man who looked strong but the pretty lady would never have made it. Shit. They have to hurry and move on.

Nathan thought quickly. There was another ship leaving soon to America. New York or Boston. Whatever. He couldn’t remember the name of that damn boat but knew where it was anchored. He had loaded a shitload of whiskey a couple of days ago, Prohibition had its good side even after it ended. Long list of wealthy clients, satisfied by the quality of his products and the trustworthiness of their deals.

“It’s a long way. Watch over your lady.” He grabbed one of the suitcases from the man’s hand and started to walk swiftly. They had a long way to go and he’d better carry the case than the woman. Stefan held his wife by the waist and followed the smuggler’s steps. He would thank him later for all his kind gestures.

Mieke carried her heavy belly and clenched her teeth. The fast pace was hard to handle but she had to make it. Her gaze focused on the man’s steps, her head down her shoulders, she tried her best to ignore the awful pain that cut her legs off. Stefan felt her weakness and tightened his hold on her. His shoulders and arms burned like hell and he’d rather have dropped the case to carry his wife in his arms but they really needed those stuff.

After fifteen minutes of running, nobody was cold anymore. Nathan never stopped walking, glancing nervously behind his shoulder to check on the young couple. The lady had her face closed, frowning. Her husband silently leading her the fastest she could.

They finally arrived at the feet of a monstrous ship of steel. Mieke lifted her head up to gauge the building’s height which got her dizzy. Her knees got weak under her, hopefully Stefan watched her back and kept her from falling.

“Mieke!” He almost cried out, as she fainted in his arms. Nathan froze. That was the worst place to stop, uncovered. He yanked at the luggage still stuck in the man’s hand and resumed walking. Stefan slided his arms under Maike’s knees and back and held her tight against his chest, her head resting in the crook if his neck.

“Down!” Nathan ordered after he made sure the footbridge was free. He rushed, squatting, Stefan on his heels. His arms were stones, tugging on his neck, and his thighs screamed out from the effort they had to endure, pulling Stefan’s and her unconscious wife’s weight up the rail. A sharp pain stabbed his abdomen, making him put one knee on the ground. Panting, hissing, he bit a scream back, shutting his eyes tight, adding more flashes and stars behind his eyelids. He won’t allow himself to fail so he tightened his grip on Mieke and stood up again. The wound on his belly tore him awfully, his forces leaving him thoroughly. Grunting deep in his throat, swallowing the jerk in his stomach and he forced himself up. Fighting for balance, he kept moving forward, step by step.

In this early morning, it was highly unlike they meet anyone from the staff, but they were not safe from a morning pee or a sleeplessness walk. Crouching, Nathan glanced quickly at the empty deck.

“Alright?” He whispered to Stefan. No. It wasn’t alright. He wasn’t good. Sweating and trembling from the unsustainable pain that wrecked his abdomen, he nonetheless nodded. They were nearly done, he had to handle the last meters which would lead them in a safe place.

Then he could rest, cry and breathe. But not now. Bad timing again. He followed the man through an endless maze of straight and empty corridors. His whole body was betraying him, the pain creeping through his veins. Each step was the very last he could bear but he kept walking, fighting the urge to throw up. Mieke started to writhe and moan under his neck, coming back to life. Mieke. He had to fight more for her. He would have given anything for his wife and that’s exactly what he was doing. Fighting for her and the baby she was carrying. Fighting for his family.

Nathan cursed under his breath. He was lost in this inextricable labyrinth of closed doors. He couldn’t recognize the right way to reach the room where he had stored a hundred boxes of the precious Scotch goods. Time was running and he had to find out somewhere to settle his clients on the run. The lower deck. Downstairs. There was always abandoned places near the encore room. And the woman would be kept warm. They were all soaked to the skin from their run and that freezing cold in the winter air would surely kill her from fever. He doubted the bags he was holding and warm blanket or dry coats in them. Not that he cared that much, but he was paid for a job and he always had the job done and well done. Which include having his clients on board and alive. Plus the lady was pretty and already exhausted from both her pregnancy and the flight. He smirked. He cared, somehow.

They passed the door of the engine room and Nathan opened the next one and eyes inside. Empty room as expected. He pointed his chin, glancing towards the room and the man walked inside, finally allowing himself to lift his wife down her feet.

Stefan sighted heavily, made sure Mieke was safely settled on her feet before kneeling down, one hand flat on the wall whilst tightening his grip over his wound. Groaning and hissing painfully, he shut his eyes, his face twisting in an awful grimace. Mieke lightly stroked his head, wrapping her hands lovingly around his face and pulling him closer in a sweet hug. A loud grunt ran through his throat and he let out the tears that waited under his eyelids for so long.

When he was finally able to catch his breath, the pain fading away and now more bearable, he stood up and wrapped his arms around Mieke. Hugging her body the tightest he could without harming her still weak self, he buried his face in her hair, tangling his fingers inside. Once her scent and her breath in his neck finished to strengthen him, soothing the pain in his abdomen faster than expected, he pulled back a little to stare at her, his eyes roaming all over her beautiful face. Cupping her wet cheeks, he wandered his thumb along her trembling, almost blue lips. He gently captured her mouth in a slow kiss before reluctantly pulling back again.

“Take off your clothes.” He whispered, his tone unwillingly more sulky than he meant.

Mieke gasped, then chuckled. Stroking her full rounded belly, she jokingly teased :

“Look at what happened last time you asked me that…”

Stefan paused, confused then laughed lightly.

“Naughty you. You’re freezing woman. I just wanted to warm you before you get sick.”

She even hadn’t realized she was shaking with cold and grinned at her husband, already busy to undress. He then gave her a hand to get rid of her coat he dropped to the side before working on the buttons of her dress.

Standing still, Mieke let her husband pulling her dress over her head and melted into his embrace, her forehead resting against his broad, bare chest. His warmth deliciously invaded her as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

“Warm me up you, big stud.” She teased, racking her nails up his spine.

He laughed heartily; relieved to hear she was fine. Mieke always teased him, she was good at it and always had him turned on. Their little game often ended under the sheets -or anywhere else- they made a good match. She wasn’t shy in bed, from the very beginning, much to his delight. But it was not the right time. Bad timing for the umpteeth time today. They were both vulnerable and exhausted. They really needed to rest. He felt Mieke suddenly stiffen against him and became aware she was crying. Coming back to his sense, he rocked her gently and kissed the top of her head.

“You’re safe now. We’re safe.”

The door flew open, startling them both. Stefan tightened his grip on Mieke, who shyly covered her breasts, barely hidden by her slip. Nathan rushed in, an armful of blankets he dropped at their feet. None of them had realized he was gone.

“Quiet.” He snapped. “The ship is waking up. Brought this to keep your lady warm.” He smirked. They’ve found their own way to do so.

“How did you get those?” The woman inquired as her husband grabbed one woolen blanket to cover his half naked wife.

He didn’t bother to elaborate a sentence and just grunted. His job was to do things like that. Not really, but he felt like he had to do this. He had walked so many boats he knew where to find what he needed. Years of smuggling, people or goods, taught him to stay low and unnoticed. He met a bunch of sailors, looking for the blankets, even asking where to get them, and he was pretty sure none of them would remember they had a chat with him. The men were busy to fill their belly, quickly swallowing their breakfast before resuming their tasks, getting the boat ready to put out into the deep/clean off. He had to go.

“Good luck. Take care of the lady.” He mumbled before turning his heels to exit the room.

“Nathan!” The woman shouted. Stopped in his tracks, he slowly turned around and faced her. She stepped forward to him, getting so close their chests almost touched. She sneaked a hand out of the blanket and grabbed the collar of his coat. Tugging it down, she pressed a kiss on his hairy cheek before letting go off of him..

“Thank you Nathan. You’re a good man. Thank you. For all. Thank you. ” she repeated the unnecessary words of gratitude. He wasn’t getting used to be -so kindly- rewarded for his efforts, he earned money for that. Adding the pretty lady’s kiss and Nathan felt his cheeks blushing and his heart pounding faster in his chest. For what seemed to be the first time in his life, he cared. Shit, that’s not good for the business.

The lady stepped back and the man grabbed his hand and shook it, his other hand patting his shoulder.

“Yes, thank you so much. We owe you.” He said.

“Welcome. Just stay low for a few days, until the boat is on open water. Just take care of your wife.” He mumbled to the man. He never had spoken that long to anyone before.

“I’ll pray for you and the baby Ma'am.” He wondered where this came from. He even didn’t believe in God and whatnot, but he would do. He wanted them to travel safe, he wanted her to have a healthy baby. He even felt sympathy for the man.

Shifting uncomfortably on his feet, he nodded his head to the couple and left.

At this moment, the thought of naming their son Nathan crossed his mind. Quickly replaced by the image of this rough, mute caveman. Talks little, does much. Accurate. But it was definitely a no no. Curtis at least was fond of strokes and kisses and cute as Cameron told them. He chuckled to himself and led Mieke to the ground.

“Come here, sit down.” He sat down, leaning his back against the wall and settled his wife in his lap, wrapping a blanket around him and another over their legs. She curled her legs up and melted in Stefan’s warm body, humming. Sitting down and feeling secure made the pain in her back and the storm in her belly stop. It must have been the anxiousness of their rush that had had her uterus hard like stone. Now she felt relaxed, rocked and warmed by her husband’s strong arms. She closed her eyes to savour the moment and sighted.

He shifted under her and reached out to grab his coat, bringing Mieke with him to the side. He shoved his hand in the inside pocket and dug out a matchbox. Mieke rolled her eyes and whined. Though he deserved this smoke, she’d rather like to stay in his arms, his scent was way better than his cigarette’s. What he pulled out from his pocket next surprised her. A candle. Not his pack of cigarettes. Stefan crossed his arms in front of her to light the candlelight.

“I planned to celebrate our new start, and take you out for a romantic dinner in your favorite restaurant.”

Another digging in his pocket and he showed her the menu.

“Your favorite chocolate bar!” He laughed in her ear, kissing and nipping at her neck.

Mieke squealed and yanked the bar from his grip.

“How did you manage to get it?” She shrieked in excitement, tearing the brown paper that separated the sweet goodies from her teeth. Chocolate was a rarity by those times of war and she had been craving a crunch for months. Typical pregnancy craving.

“Love, find this was way harder than organizing out trip to New York. But you know l would give you the moon. ” he nuzzled into her hair, while she more than happily took a bite.

“Mmmhh!” A strange sound racked through her lungs.

He’d never have thought she would appreciate it that much. He somehow noticed something weird. She was tensed like hell and slammed her hands on her belly.

Stefan shifted to the side to study her wife. A frown crossed her face, her eyes closed tight, her fingers dug into her abdomen, her breath held.

“A kick?” He happily asked, he always loved to know his son was healthy and sporty.

Mieke opened her wet eyes, her look worried. The calm she had been feeling since they had settled down was short-lived. And the renewed awful pain that stabbed her core was the ultimate clue.

Trembling in fear and pain, she reluctantly spit it out.

“No. It’s a contraction. Stefan, I’m in labor!”

Bad, bad timing.

@cajunpeach @red-diary @frecklefaceb @oddsnendsfanfics @societalfailure @bookwarm85 @pernilleals @kenzieam @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995

@singingpeople

@jaicourtneyseyes

@beautifulramblingbrains

#the exception #the run #part 2 #stefan brandt #mieke #jai courtney

118 notes · View notes

collegeemt3 · 7 years

Text

Chapter Two

“Hey Danny! How’s it going, man? Haven’t seen you in a while,” my uncle greets me as I traipse down the stairs.

“Hey Uncle Benny! I’m doing well,” I respond, joining him in a man hug. I keep a smile plastered on my face as I greet everyone else who arrives, telling them the same thing over and over: I’m okay, I’m good, I’m doing well. I know internally that I’m not at my best, I’m not as good as I could be, but I can’t tell them. I can’t say it. It’s as if it becomes an absolute reality if I tell someone else, like it becomes something I can’t change.

I do my best to continue through the day as normally as possible. I interact with my friends and family as if nothing is wrong, but there’s something growing within me. I can feel it. It’s sitting heavy in my head and my gut. I yearn to reach out to my trusted safety net – my razors and Xacto blades – but I know that I can’t, at least, not yet.

There’s one person that doesn’t seem to fall for my pre-programmed lines, though. The person who’s closest to me in my life, who’s been through everything with me from the beginning of my troubles, and has never left me because of them: Alyssa. She keeps looking over at me with a curious, knowing look.

Thirty minutes into the party, everything is overwhelming me, and I can tell that I’m not going to make it through without some relief, some assistance. I manage to slip away from the crowd, thinking myself to be unfollowed.

I step into my bathroom, softly closing the door, listening for the click of the door closing securely. Opening the medicine cabinet behind the mirror, I shuffle around the various medicine bottles, searching for one in particular. A moment later I spot the one I’m looking for: a bottle from an old prescription of anti-depressants. I finished the contents of the bottle about five months ago, and replaced the pills with my blades.

As I pull the bottle down from the shelf, my bathroom door opens behind me. I jump, startled, and the bottle clatters into the sink. I flip around, looking to see who followed me in. I see Alyssa’s face, and immediately pick up on the fear in her eyes.

“What are you doing, Danny?”

“Please, Alyssa, just give me a few minutes. I just need a few moments to recompose myself. I was getting overwhelmed by everybody downstairs. So many people in such a small space, and everybody’s focusing on me. It’s too much right now. I just need a few minutes, then I’ll be back.” I watch as her eyes fall momentarily to the sink, picking up on what’s in the bottle.

“Danny, please, don’t do this. You can make it through this without hurting yourself,” she pleads with me. I shake my head no, tears welling in my eyes.

“I can’t do it without them. I need to do this. Please, Alyssa,” I plead back. She pauses for a moment, a contemplative look momentarily overtaking her face. She looks down, bites her lip with resolve as she looks back up at me, and then states,

“I can’t stop you from hurting yourself, Danny, but I’m not leaving. If you’re going to cut, then you’re going to do it in front of me.”

“Alyssa, you don’t need to see this. Please,” tears are now dripping down my face, “you don’t need to watch this.”

“I know I don’t need to, but I want to.” I pause for a moment, accepting that she’s not leaving. I turn back around to the sink, where the bottle with the blades is sitting, waiting for me to open it. I reach a trembling hand towards it, grasp it, fumble with the lid, and then spill the contents onto the counter.

Grasping one of the blades, I inch my swim trunks down some and lift the bottom hem of my shirt to reveal my scabbed and scarred hips and abdomen. I try not to notice her staring at me as I prepare to do this. I try to block her out, to not make this harder than it has to be.

Locating a spot of unmarked flash below my belly button, I place the blade against my skin. Pressing firmly, I draw the blade from one side of my navel to the other. I repeat this multiple times, each stinging pull releasing some of the pent-up anxiety.

When I pause for a moment to examine the damage, Alyssa steps beside me and clasps my hand that’s holding the blade. I look over at her momentarily, and see wet trails down her cheeks. Immediately I look away, knowing I won’t be able to contain myself if I focus on her. I tug my hand of out hers to rinse off the blade I used, and then return all of them to their bottle, and hide the bottle back on its shelf in the medicine cabinet. Leaning over to the side of the counter, I tear off some toilet paper from the roll and press it against the new cuts. I hold pressure for a couple of minutes, and in that time Alyssa has synched a comforting arm around my back, holding me close to her.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” she whispers into my ear. Tears start to well in my eyes, and although I try to blink them back, a few still escape. I use my free hand to brush them away from my face. As soon as my hand drops back to my side, the bathroom door bangs open, and I see my brother’s face in the mirror.

“Hey, bro, I gotta pee, and all the other bathrooms are occupado, mind if I use-” he stops dead, mid-sentence, spotting my hand holding bloody toilet paper to my stomach. “Were you just-” his eyes widen in shock, and he rushes back out of my bathroom, through my bedroom, and into the crowded house below. My anxiety spikes back up again, along with my fear. I know exactly who he’s looking for, where he’s headed.

Quickly, I check the new cuts on my belly. They’ve stopped bleeding, so I flush the bloody toilet paper, drop my shirt, pull my trunks back up to their natural resting place, and then walk with Alyssa trailing me back downstairs to the throng of party guests.

The rest of the party passes in a blur: games, cake and ice cream, presents, thanks yous, and goodbyes. Extended family members, friends, and classmates leave. All except for one: Alyssa. She stays by my side throughout the entire party, and the confrontation by my parents afterwards. Once everyone else is gone, my parents sit me down in the family room, on our old, torn-up, worn-out couch.

“Danny,” my father starts. When my father starts a conversation in this setting it’s never a good thing. “Michael told us about what happened earlier today, what he saw. We had an agreement, months ago, that this would stop. How long has this been going on? When did you start again?”

“I never stopped,” I whisper, shame creeping into my voice.

“Remove your shirt.” I do as I’m told, revealing countless old and new cuts on my stomach and hips, some disappearing under the waistband of my bathing suit. “So not only did you break our agreement, you lied to us.” I let my head drop even further towards my lap. “Start packing your things tonight. Tomorrow morning we’re taking you to the hospital.” I say nothing. I have no response, no protest. I know they’re right. I really should go, and they’re only trying to look out for me, but I don’t want to go back. The first time was bad enough of an experience. “You’re dismissed,” he says to me, getting up from the chair across from me, my mom following him into the kitchen to continue cleaning up from the party. I continue to sit on the couch, dazed, until Alyssa speaks up.

“Why don’t we go upstairs. I’ll help you start packing.”

Listless, I follow Alyssa up to my room, and sit motionless on my bed as she busses around my room, pulling out a duffle bag and rummaging through my dresser, pulling out clothes to place into it. As she steps into my bathroom to get things that I’ll need out of it, I stand up and walk over to the bathroom door.

“I’m gonna go sit on the porch for a bit. Get some fresh air, mull some things over,” I rasp.

“Okay, I’ll be down when I’m done up here.” I don’t say anything further, just nod my head in acknowledgement. I descend the stairs towards the front door like a prisoner on death row going to his execution.

Quietly, I slip out the front door and settle on the steps at the front of the porch. I let my head drop and my body hunch as the whirlwind begins inside my head. I close my eyes, and I’m no longer sitting on the front porch, or, at least, it doesn’t seem like I am. Instead I feel as if I’m within the scenes of the flashback playing within my own mind. After about five or six different ones, I force my eyes open, jarring me back into the present.

The rain splatters silently on the pavement around me, disguising the tears that drip from my face. A warm hand lands gently on my cold, barren shoulder, and without even looking up I know who it is. I hear the rustling of clothes as she sits next to me, and her hand on my shoulder changes to her arm across my shoulders. I want to lean against her and just break down, but I resist.

“Danny,” she whispers tentatively. “I know you’re in there somewhere.” Her other hand grasps my hands, which are clasped together, “Please come back,” she sighs, more just to the world than to me in particular. “Where did you go, Danny? You’re in there somewhere, but you’re lost. I can see it when I look at you. You’re lost in here,” she taps gently on the side of my head, “but you’re too damn stubborn to pull out a map and ask for help.” I lean forward as my whole core tightens, my thoughts fighting for my attention over her voice “Please come back, Danny. I miss you…” her voice fades away as my thoughts win out: Who would even notice if I left? And out of those who notice, who would actually care that I was gone? Who would actually give two shits if I disappeared? I bet no one would actually care…I bet everyone would just continue on with their lives as if nothing had happened. I’m hardly ever noticed now, if I just disappeared it would be one less thing for them to look over, to look past and ignore. Why can’t I just cease to exist? I’m tired of living as I do. I don’t want to exist as myself, but I don’t know of anything else I can exist as, so I might as well just not exist. What is existence, anyways? What rule is there in life that says we have to be? Maybe I’m sick of being. Maybe I’m sick of just everything. Maybe I’m just plain sick. I bet that’s it. That’s probably what the fucking problem is. I’m probably just so fucking sick that it’s not worth it for me to live anymore… As my thoughts continue to spiral in this downward direction it seems to be that my mind is made up. Life is not worth living anymore. I’m ready to give up, so I decide that it’s time. I pick my shirtless body up suddenly from the porch and surprise Alyssa when I do so.

“Where are you going?” she inquires, a high level of concern in her voice. I don’t respond and keep walking down the walkway in front of the house, towards the lake. “What are you doing, Danny? Where are you going?” She calls after me as she starts to follow me. Again I don’t respond but keep walking to the lake. I reason that if I don’t say anything then maybe she won’t figure out what’s about to happen until it’s too late, and then she won’t be able to stop me. Then, maybe, I’ll finally have some peace, some silence in my mind. “Danny!” Alyssa practically shouts at me, but I still don’t respond. I honestly hardly hear her, like she’s calling to me from a distance, not right behind me. Then her hand lands forcefully on my shoulder, spinning me around to face her. “What are you doing?” she asks again, staring straight into my eyes. I can’t respond. I don’t want to tell her. I don’t want her to know what I’m about to do. I look down at the ground, averting my gaze from hers. “Danny?” she prompts, and I can tell that she’s not going to leave it alone until I answer.

“I’m giving up,” I mumble hoarsely.

“On what?” Fear now spikes her voice as well as concern.

“Everything.” I turn around so my back is once again to her and start walking again. I hear Alyssa’s breath hitch as I start to move away, but I don’t hear any footsteps other than my own. I’m kind of relieved that she’s not following me. That will make this easier. As I approach the lake the only sound I hear is the water. Everyone who was here earlier has gone home now, the weather driving them away. Instantly I know when I’ve stepped from the pavement to the sand of the beach. Instead of the firm pavement the sand gives way under my feet, causing my footing to slide a little as I continue forward to the choppy water.

As I step into the water I feel an initial shock at the cold and my breath hitches for a second before returning to a normal rhythm. I continue to walk into the turbulent fluid, not caring as goose bumps break out across my flesh like a rash. When I reach the point where the water is lapping at my chin I pause for a second, almost as if I’m reconsidering. And then the voices in my mind of my thoughts come rushing in, and now I’m certain that the only way to permanently silence them is this. The only way I can finally drown them out is to drown myself.

With renewed resilience I step forward once again, trying not to cough and splutter as the water sloshes into my mouth and down my throat. I get to the point where the water is just below my eyes, already starting to creep into my ears, when, faintly, from the beach, I hear “Danny!”

Shit! is my first fleeting thought. I continue to step forward, starting to struggle against keeping my feet on the bottom of the lake. Curse this somewhat buoyant body! The water now blocks the voice from the shore, and I let my mind forget about it as I close my eyes and let the water fully embrace my body. My brain as well as my lungs scream for oxygen, and I give in to the desire to inhale, getting a lungful of icy water. I try to cough as my lungs want to expel the water, but all that does is let in more water when I open my mouth. As my body craves oxygen and my lungs try to get it my body bucks, struggling for something I will not receive. I continue to struggle for oxygen only to take in more and more water. The longer I struggle the weaker I get and the less attuned to everything I become.

My con..scious..ness…is star…ting to fa…de. I..I ca..n’t hear….the..the..the roar…of the…wa..water..any…more. I’m not…I don’t fe…feel the…wa..water ag…against…me…any..anymo…more. Every…thing…is fa…ding…away…Ev..every…thing…is..gone.

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#TheInbetween

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