Unexpected 56
Warnings: non/dubcon, child endangerment, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, Andy is nasty in this, violence, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
You go through the drawers and grab some clothing for Luna. Just enough without weighing you down. Then you take Luna out of the crib. She’s awake but quiet. Almost as if she senses something’s happening. You cradle her against you and move slowly through the space.
You see Andy’s body on the floor. You’re too afraid to even go near him. You reach across the bed to fish out the cell phone on the opposite nightstand. You try to unlock it but don’t know the code. Dammit.
You look down at your daughter and shudder. You lay her on the bed and take the phone. You stare down at Andy and his arm sprawled away from his body. You grit down as you bend down and lift his hand, pressing his thumb to the screen. You watch the screen flip open and you retract, staring at him, expecting him to rise and catch you in your flight.
You gather up Luna again and the extra clothes. You take her to the door as you hug her tightly and keep your other arm around the fabric, thumbing through the phone. You find the security app and after several attempts, you unlock the right door, the latch clicking back loudly.
On the other side of the door, you lock it again. It will buy you enough time. You don’t know exactly what your plan is, your mind just puts one thought in front of the other. Get dressed.
You find clothing from his dresser and pull them on. Loose but it doesn’t matter. You tie the oversized sweatpants over your hips as tight as you can. Shoes… those are another matter. You stuff the toes with socks and double up the pair on your feet. A coat over a hoodie and you should be fine. An extra pair of pants and sweater shoved into the bag you find in the bottom of the closet.
You pack up Luna’s clothes with your own, layering her in a hoodie as well before tying her around you with a sliced pillow sheet. Your work methodically through the dark, the phone your only light. You put your hand on your baby as you go to the kitchen and scour the cupboards for anything you can take with you.
That’s it. You have to go. No more time to waste. You can’t risk it. If he’s alive, if he wakes up, that door won’t stop him forever.
You near the entryway and slow. You stop at the small table and stare at the leather wallet resting next to a key dish. You pick it up and unfold it. There’s a credit card… you might be able to get a few bucks off of that before ditching it.
You stop at the door and take a breath, the knapsack drooping on your back as you keep a hand on Luna. You flip the lock back and peer out at the night, the sky softening with the early hues of the looming morning. You step out into the world. A new world. Your world.
You’re numb as you come up to the end of the walkway and pause again at the threshold of the suburban sidewalk. You take a breath of the crisp air and shiver. You’re not cold, you’re scared but in a different way. In a freeing way.
You look down the avenue, towards Lloyd’s house, another prison you once knew. You can still go back. You can walk the half-block and just give in. No, you can’t. You won’t settle for that. You won’t let Luna live in your resent.
You turn your back on it, unsure of where you’re going. Away. Anywhere but here.
Your name stops you from taking the first step. No. Please. You should just keep going, act like you didn’t hear them but you can’t. Harlan calls you again, his footsteps shuffling across the road.
You face him as he steps up on the curb. He looks you over, his eyes fixating on your child. You press your hand firmer to her.
“I knew… I been watching,” he says darkly, “what… did you…”
“He might be dead,” you shrug, “Harlan, I’m leaving.”
He’s quiet. It’s tense and full and horrible. He lowers his head and reaches to touch the bundle around his grandchild. He nods and lifts his eyes to you.
“I know. You woulda either way,” he utters, “you’re not wrong for it.”
“Are you going to tell him?” You ask thinly.
“Nah, I won’t do that,” he says as he unzips his packet and slips his hand beneath, “you go…” he takes out his wallet as you watch dumbly. “Take this.” He hands over cash, “he can’t track that.”
“I… thank you,” you accept the money.
“You keep her safe. Yourself too,” his voice wobbles for just a moment, “I looked… I-I did. I was watching that man…”
“It’s okay. We’re okay.”
“You will be. Now, you listen,” he searches in his wallet again, “you take my number. You ain’t gotta call me right away. Just me, not Dotty. The longer you wait, the better, but you let me know when you’re settled. Let me know she’s happy.” He hands over a slip of paper, “you go to the next and you buy yourself a burner. You text me and I’ll tell ya where to go.”
Your eyes tinge. Maybe you could stay. Maybe you should.
“Don’t you start doubtin’ yourself,” he insists as he shoves the paper into your pocket.
You swallow and gulp tightly. Without a word, you step closer and stretch your arm around him, hugging him as you try not to smother Luna. She coos as you do.
“I love you, dad,” you say as you give him a squeeze.
“Love ya, too, honey,” he pats your back, “and the little one.” He pulls back and looks down at Luna as she wriggles. She’s bigger now, almost too big for the haphazard sling.
“I’ll call,” you promise.
“You’ll go. Now.” He pushes his shoulders straight and lifts his chin, glaring past you to Andy’s house, “I’ll make sure that bastard don’t follow.”
For a moment, you wonder if he means Andy or Lloyd.
You let him past, turning to watch him march up the walk of Andy's house. You don’t move until he’s inside. You reach into your pocket and pull out Andy’s phone and card. You don’t need that. You throw it into the garden and spin back to the street.
The sky brightens as you head down the street, lighting the way as if trying to illuminate the world ahead of you. You’re going to do it right this time.
You can handle the unexpected, that doesn’t scare you. You fear falling back into the same traps as before. This time, you’re going to do it on your own. And you’re going to show your daughter how to do the same. She won’t be like you, she’ll be stronger.
🍑🍑🍑
End
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The mamaliga superstition
Of course the paprika hendl gets all the attention, but that was just the beginning of the spiciness torture for our dear friend Jonathan:
I had for breakfast more paprika, and a sort of porridge made from maize flour which they said was "mamaliga," and eggplant stuffed with forcemeat, a very excellent dish, which they call "impelata."
So of course I had to look up recipes for mamaliga:
The website includes this little gem at the bottom of the recipe:
When making mamaliga, examine the piece served to you; any cracks that appear on the top of your portion indicate an unexpected journey lies ahead.
Oh, Jonathan. My poor, dear friend Jonathan. It's not just the howling of the dog in the nighttime that was ominous. The mamaliga superstition tried to warn you too.
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