I'm a mes(s).. not just by name

Vet Nurse, Fangirl, Writer and reader Masterlist

[i-am-a-mes]

Masterlist

These are my stories.

Hope you enjoy! 

Tom Hiddleston Stories:

Pet and Fuzzy socks - Masterlist  (Complete)

You are a vet tech who one day gets a dog in at the clinic, who’s owner happen to be Tom Hiddleston.

Love Uncovered - Masterlist (Complete)

The story is set in 1920s London, where Tom Hiddleston is put on the case of Y/N Chudwell’s husband murder. 

Supernatural Stories

Me myself and us - Masterlist  (Hiatus)

A story of Y/N and her life with the Winchesters, and how something from her past comes back with a vengeance and how it turns Y/N and the brothers life around

Chris Evans Stories

Blueberry - Masterlist

Y/N is fresh out of college with a small job at a newspaper, when she meets Chris Evans. They start a Sugar Daddy/Sugar baby relationship and try to navigate through their feelings, desires and personal obstacles.

One-shots:

Dream Daddies - Chris Evans x Plus size reade x Henry Cavill - a 450 followers celebration

Reader had a bad experience and her daddies help her through it!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silence is Golden 35/Final

Warnings: This will include dark elements. Please do not read if these elements or any dark elements make you uncomfortable.

Character: Lloyd Hansen, smol, mute! reader

Summary: you’re put in the custody of a strange man with questionable motives and an even more questionable mustache.

Please reblog if you enjoy and leave some feedback! Muah 💋

“Home sweet home,” Lloyd declares as you come in sight of the familiar mansion.

He idles at the gate as he waits for it to open. The motor is slow enough to make him cluck. You stare at the facade, grand even as the snow hides much of the details.

It’s the cold time of year when people buy stuff and there’s coloured lights all over. He doesn’t seem like the type. You wouldn’t mind a wreath for the front door. Patty wants to make a snowman. Later, promise.

The car still and Lloyd blows a ‘brrrrr’ between his lips. He shuts the engine off and scowls through the windshield. “Guess you’ll just have to warm me up,” he glances over coyly.

You push on his shoulder. You’re not opposed to the idea but you’re not a fan of his cold feet. You squeeze Patty under your arm and reach for the door.

“Hold up,” Lloyd pops his door open and hops out swiftly. “Let me help.”

He hurries around the hood. You undo your seatbelt and turn your legs out. He opens the back door and reaches inside. He slides out the crutches.

As he offers them to you, you scrunch up your mouth.

“You do need them,” he insists.

Your ankle isn’t that bad. Well, you’re both stubborn, aren’t you? He just happens to be more annoying about it.

You make your way toward the house. He hovers beside you, Patty in one hand as he readies for you to topple at any moment. You ignore him and press on.

He opens the front door ahead of you. You sit heavily on the bench and lean the crutches against the wall. You remove your boot, your injured foot wrapped in a thermal blanket. Yeah, that’s his handwork.

Lloyd helps you with your coat before he hangs his own. You stand. He eyes you warily. You take one crutch. He relents.

“Where’re you going?” He wonders.

You point a finger. He’ll know what needs to be known. You take Patty from him and pivot. You hobble to the stairs.

You start up, awkward as you balance with only one crutch, your other arm on the platypus. Lloyd hurries after you. You look back at him and shake your head subtly. He puts his palms out.

“Fine, fine.” He relents. “You know, I’m still me. This is still my house.”

You tilt your head. He frowns.

“But it’s not a home without you, sunshine.”

You stick out your tongue and turn back up the staircase. It’s not graceful or quick, but you get to the top. You limp down the hall and stop outside a familiar door.

You push through with the crutch and enter. You lean the crutch on the dresser and hop across the room. You pull open the closet door.

There’s still a pillow on the floor. You put Patty on it and sidle inside. You reach into your pocket and slip out the square of paper.

Those five words; ‘If I don’t come back.’ You read them and reread them but you can’t bring yourself to open the letter and read the rest. Because you don’t have to. You don’t ever want to.

Yet, you might have to. One day. Or maybe one day, he’ll find it himself and comfort himself knowing you kept it. 

You bend and feel along the floor. You find that little space between the boards and the wall. You shove the folded page in until it won’t go any further.

Don’t forget where it is, you warn Patty.

You leave the closet, taking the stuffy and the pillow with you. As you shut the door, Lloyd clears his throat.

“Sleeping in there?” He wonders.

You shake your head. That’s done with. You’re not afraid of the light anymore. He picks up your crutch. You drop your shoulders and hop across the room.

You put the pillow on the dress and hook your arm over the top of the crutch. You’re ready to leave those old habits, those fears behind. But there is one thing you won’t leave undone.

You narrow your eyes and point at Lloyd. You jab his chest. He looks down at his finger then his face contorts as he meets your gaze.

“What did I do?” He blusters.

🙊

The car idles outside the storefront. You pet Patty and hold her up to see the windows. The glass is painted with shades of red and green marking the season.

Lloyd clicks his tongue and sighs. He jams his finger against the button and the engine hushes. He reluctantly repels his seatbelt.

“I really gotta do this?” He asks.

You look at him and raise your eyebrows. He drops his head and gathers his senses. He nods then sits up straight. He opens the door and grumbles.

He doesn’t forget you. He helps you out, along with your crutches, and buckles Patty into your chest carrier. He walks patiently behind you and opens the door for you. 

You enter first and pause to admire the crystal ornaments on the table along the front. Before, you were too overwhelmed by all the sparkles and colours. Now you love all of them.

“I don’t see her,” Lloyd says. “How about I buy you one of these glass things and we can go home and get freaky in front of the fire?”

You draw your attention from the glass dove. Before you can sneer in his direction, a howl goes up across the store.

“No, sir!” The shrillness puts you on edge. “I told you, sir, you are not welcome here. Do you think I forgot? Maddie, call the police!”

“Woah, woah,” Lloyd turns to meet the fuming woman. “I’m not here to–”

You step in front of him and smile at Sheila. She slows and her mouth hangs open. You drop your crutches and hobble toward her. You wrap her up in a hug.

“Oh, dearie, it’s you,” she gently embraces you. “You look… well.”

You grin and hang onto her for a moment before you draw back. Lloyd retrieves the crutches as you look back at him. You point at him then turn and gesture to Sheila.

He exhales and wets his lips. He approaches cautiously. He holds the crutches out. You take them. If you gotta use these things, he needs to do something too.

“Alright,” he faces Sheila. “Stacey.”

You poke his toe with your crutch. He coughs.

“Fine, Sheila,” he corrects himself pointedly. “I didn’t come here for round two, alright? I came here to apologise.”

She narrows her eyes and sucks her teeth. She crosses her arms. Lloyd looks at you. You shrug.

“I’m sorry I was an asshole. And I’m sorry I said your nails reminded me of a bird. And I’m sorry I blew my nose on that scarf–”

You tilt your head. You didn’t know about all that. Sheila looks a bit surprised herself. Lloyd glances at you again. You raise your brows.

“Look, I’m a dickhole. I don’t say sorry but here I am, Sheila. And if my words don’t mean nothing, you get one free shot. Just try not to mess with the mustache.” He offers.

She stares at him. Her expression is stone then it softens as she glances at you. Things don’t have to be violent. You told Lloyd as much.

She looks at him again. Everything happens in a flash; her fist flies back, then forward, and Lloyd reels as he cradles his nose and grunts.

“Shit fuck,” he snarls into his hand.

“That’s not for me,” Sheila snaps. “It’s for this sweet girl,” she gentle pets your arm. “If you ever hurt her…” she pauses. “Sweets, what happened to your leg?”

You shake your head, assuring her it wasn’t him.

“Hmm, well, good.” She steps forward and wags her finger at Lloyd. “Don’t you ever hurt her. You get me?”

“Fuck, yeah, I get it. Not that I would, like piss shit and tits, Sheila, you got a fucking cannon on you.” He rubs the side of his nose. “I just got this thing straight again.”

“Try thin one side of that tacky mustache. It might make it look normal,” she scoffs.

He wince, “what the fuck? Rude.” You reach to touch his arm. He sighs and pouts. “Alright, truce. You got your apology and… some blood,” he dabs his nose with his knuckles. “We even?”

“Until we’re not,” she chimes. She faces you. “Now, darling, were we looking for something new?”

You smile and shake your head again. You just point all around.

“Just looking,” Lloyd sniffs.

“Oh, sure,” Sheila trills. “Just don’t break.”

“Uh huh,” he clucks and gestures with a sideways nod. “You want one of those glass birds? I’ll get you as many as you like, sweetheart.”

You bow your head at Sheila. You’re thankful. For the first day you came and for now. She didn’t have to forgive him.

You turn and follow Lloyd. You look along the line of crystal animals. There’s a goose and a duck too.

Lloyd blows out a long breath. He runs his hand up your back and rubs your shoulder. He stands close as he admires the glass cardinal as you lift it to show him. You peek at him. He’s grinning. Not at the bird, but at you.

“You know what I love most about you, baby face?” He asks. You shrug. “You can’t tell anyone just how goddamn stupid I am for you.”

You roll your eyes and beckon to him with a curl of your finger. He leans in and you peck his cheek. He hums and you tap the dimple of his chin before he stands straight. You like that; having him just for yourself.

You never thought you would have anything of your own. Now you have Lloyd, Patty, and a whole world to explore.

🙊🙊🙊

Thank you all for reading along and going on this adventure with me, Whisper, Lloyd, and Patty. I can't tell you how much fun I've had writing this and how it's gotten me through some pretty crummy times. I'm just working on getting through each day and every chapter and every reply and ask was a bright spot!

I'm going to miss this but if y'all are up for it, sometime in the future, I'll revisit these two!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silence is Golden 34

Warnings: This will include dark elements. Please do not read if these elements or any dark elements make you uncomfortable.

Character: Lloyd Hansen, smol, mute! reader

Summary: you’re put in the custody of a strange man with questionable motives and an even more questionable mustache.

Please reblog if you enjoy and leave some feedback! Muah 💋

You hook your legs around Lloyd as he carries you. With arms twined around his neck, you smother him in hungry kisses. Your back hits the doorframe and he grunts, parting from your lips as he rubs your spine.

“Woah, you okay? Think maybe you should let me see where I’m going, baby face,” he smirks. “I know I’m goddamn delectable but–”

You furrow your nose and cover his mouth with your hand. His eyes flash then narrow. He tilts his head then carries you through the doorway.

He takes you to the bed and lifts his knee onto it. He bends over you as he sets you down. You run your hands down his chest and stomach. He crushes you as he once more covers your lips with yours.

You rock him with you as you hook hands behind him and dig your nails into his shirt. You drink him in, basking in the realisation, the delight, the bliss of having him. That creature trapped in the dark could never dream this. She didn’t dream at all. She didn’t hope. She didn’t feel.

Now you do all of that.

You drag your hands back around and tickle his neck. He chuckles and draws back. He looks down at you as you reach to pet the sides of his head. He leans into your touch.

“Babe, you say stop, I stop,” he offers.

You shake your head. You pull him back down into a kiss. He hums and lets his hand drift down your side. He feels along the loose hem of your shirt and tickles your hip. You twitch and a giggle slips free.

He rears back again and looks down at you in shock. He flicks his fingers again. You smile toothily and another tinkly flutter crawls up your throat. He snickers and sits back on his heels, tickling you with both hands.

You bat at his fingers as you bounce helplessly on the bed. Your voice bubbles up, louder and louder, until you can’t bear it. You grab onto his thick fingers and sit up, shoving him away.

You stare at him in a stalemate. You’re breathless and he’s flushed.

“I love that sound,” he purrs.

You narrow your eyes and raise your chin defiantly. You let go of him and grab his shirt. You tug it up. He laughs again.

“Eager, are we?” He teases.

You arch a brow. He whistles and rolls his shoulders. He grabs the hem and peels off his shirt.

“Tit for tat, baby,” he flexes his chest. “I show you mine, you show me yours.”

You reach for him and pet the hair along his muscles. You press your palms to the firmness and push your fingertips down. You wriggle as a tingle coils inside of you.

“Oh, you can start drooling at any time,” he winks.

You trace the splotchy bruises across his ribcage and stomach. There’s a particularly thick gash sewn up on his arm. He stops you and pulls your hands away.

“It don’t hurt,” he insists.

You look up at him. You untangle your legs from around. You get up to your knees, wincing as you knock your splinted foot beneath you. You ignore the pang as you kneel before him.

You shimmy out of the shirt, lifting it over your head and tossing it into a heap. You shiver as you reveal your naked torso to the room and him. Lloyd’s eyes drift down and his lips twitch.

You follow his gaze. He reaches for you, almost hesitantly, and clucks. He brushes lightly over the bandages on your side. He trails his fingers up between your tits and follows the stitched cut between them. You grab his hands and put them over the swell of your chest.

You look up again and catch his eyes. You squeeze. You don’t want to think about all that. You want something else.

He fondles you with a purr. He leans in and kisses you. You let him go and feel along the veiny length of his forearms. You tickle along his stomach and he tenses.

He settles in on his knees and hooks an arm around you. He pulls you onto his lap as he gropes one side of your chest. You lean your head back as his mouth crawls down your jaw, then neck.

Body heat swirls around you, balmy kisses littering across your collarbone and shoulders. You hang from his grasp, petting the back of his head as you welcome him. His nose brushes your skin, sending a speckle of goosebumps across your chest.

You rock your pelvis against him. Your body moves on instinct alone. Desperation guides you. That deep need for another. The one long suppressed.

You reach around his neck and hug him as close as you can. You smother his lips once more and lean back. He lets you take him down with you as you fall down to the mattress. His hand ventures up and down your torso, fingertips swirling just along the elastic of your loose sweatpants.

You pull away from his lips and nod. You giggle and his mouth curves in delight. He presses his hand flat to your stomach and dips beneath the fabric. He feels along your pelvis and caresses the tuft of hair nestled at the crux of your vee.

You shudder and pet his shoulders. You urge him on as you push your legs wide. It’s all new but none of it is scary. Not with him.

His other hand curls around the waistband and he guides the fabric down your thigh. You close your legs around his knuckles as you let him strip them down your legs. The left leg catches on your bandages. You grit your teeth and tug until you’re free, letting your knees fall apart once more.

He exhales and looks down at your cunt. Gently, he glides his fingertip between your lips. He rolls over your bud and you spasm. You let out a squeak and clap your hand over your mouth in shock. The spark multiplies and reverberates under your skin.

He twirls his fingertip and you hiccup. You bite into your hand as you resist the roiling heat trying to force its way up your throat. He doesn’t relent, eyes skimming between his touch and your tortured writhing. He snickers.

“You don’t gotta be shy,” he taunts as he drags his finger up and down, sliding easily through your slickness. “Come on, you can do it again.”

He flicks and you twitch, letting out a babbly yelp. You tense and ball up your fists, arms bent at your sides as you writhe. He toys with you as he circles around your entrance.

He turns his hand and pauses, pressing his thumb to your clit. You bat your lashes at him and bite your lip. You reach down and nudge him. Keep going.

He traces your opening and slowly pokes inside. Just a little as you hold your breath. He dips in, little by little, patient even as he shifts on his knee. You can see his own excitement pent up beneath his pants.

He groans as he sinks to his first knuckle. You exhale and your muscles unknot. You push yourself up on your elbows and watch his finger dive deeper. As he reaches his knuckle, you clench around him.

He pulls back and purrs, then pushes in again. Slowly, he repeats it, forming a rhythm as your thighs quiver visibly. You hiss and wiggle as tension winds through you.

He hums and moves back on his knees. You expect him to pull away, disappointment creeping up your cheeks. He lowers himself to his stomach, bending at his waist as his bottom half hangs off the bed. He bows and kisses your pelvis. You shiver.

He kisses again. His lips speckle over you, his heat mingles with the medley of sensation swirling within you. He nuzzles your curly hair and breathes you in. As he exhales, you sigh.

You close your eyes as his cool tongue slithers between your folds. You sink into the magical melding of your flesh. You reach down and spread your fingers over his head, twining into the longer strands of his hair. You push him down against you, tilting your hips as you beg for all off him.

He licks and laps as he slips another finger into your cunt. He pushes deep and slides out. Each move is methodical, diligent. He is precise and patient.

You teethe your lip and arch your back as pressure pulses from your toes to temple. You twist your limbs widely and clasp onto his hair as the tension snaps all at once. You shake as it flows over you in ripples, washing through you like a cleansing tide. He drinks up your orgasm with a long drone, his voice thrumming through you.

He stays bent over you, breathing damply between your thighs. He lifts his head as you open your eyes and peek down at him. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are dopey.

You reach for him, opening and closing your hands. He drags his fingers from inside you and he stands. He looks down, his chest rising and falling, and he undoes his fly. He pushes down his slacks and kicks them away.

You stare. Your insides set alight and your chest plumes with smoke. You need him.

He climbs onto the bed and over you. He holds himself just above you and kisses all around your face. You smell your sweetness on him. His nose brushes yours and he stares into your eyes.

“You sure?” He asks as you feel him rigid against you.

You reach down and wrap your fingers around him. He winces and groans. You pump your hand up then down. He growls.

“Okay, shit then, you got me.” He hisses.

He props himself up on one elbow and reaches between you. He puts his hand under yours and slips free of your hold. He rubs his tip along your wet folds and sighs. He does it again and again, smearing your pleasure all around.

Finally, he stills. He angles along your entrance as he brings his hand against your hair. He looks at you. You nod. He leans down to kiss you as his tip presses against you.

He tilts his hips, just a little. His tip pushes into you. You bite his lip and whine. He stops and lifts his head. His eyes shine in concern.

You snake your hand down and push on his butt. You squeeze for good measure. He chortles and keeps going. It hurts but it’s not a bad pain. It’s heavy and dull but stopping would hurt more.

You hook your legs around his and urge him on. He sinks in until he can’t go any further. You blow out between your lips as your eyes water. You lift your pelvis and force past the last of your body’s defense.

You squeak and he kisses your cheek. “Sorry, sunshine. You okay?”

You smile and nod. You pet his mussed hair and rock your hips again. You spread your hand over his thick biceps and dig your nails in.

“Oh ho,” he grins and pushes into you until you squirm. “You’re just getting started, are ya?” He pulls back and thrusts. You twitch and squeeze his ass and bicep tighter. “Well then, take all you want.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silence is Golden 33

Warnings: This will include dark elements. Please do not read if these elements or any dark elements make you uncomfortable.

Character: Lloyd Hansen, smol, mute! reader

Summary: you’re put in the custody of a strange man with questionable motives and an even more questionable mustache.

Please reblog if you enjoy and leave some feedback! Muah 💋

You stare at the bandages around Lloyd’s fingers. The splints keep them straight as he grips the back of the wheelchair. You drop your shoulders and pout. You try to wave him off as he pushes it up to the bed.

“You need to take it easy,” he says. You roll your eyes. “No attitude.”

You do it again. More emphatically. He laughs and ignores your agitation as he bends to scoop you up and put you in the chair.

“Marta says you should get out. I hate to feed her ego but she’s right. You love going outside.” 

He backs up and grabs the folded throw he left at the foot of the bed. He fans it out over your lap then tucks the edges under you. As he does, you kiss the tip of his nose. His eyes focus on you and his lips slant. He has a goofy look as he steps back.

“It’s cold,” he turns and grabs Patty and puts her on your lap. “Keep her warm, will ya?”

You hug the stuffy and he gets behind the chair. He pushes you out of the room as you tilt your head back to look up at him. He looks down and lowers his brows. “What?”

He’s not being honest. He got hurt too. You wish he’d take it easy.

“I’m fine,” he says. “Really.”

You arch your brows. He sighs.

“Come on, sweetheart, I can take care of myself. And you. Both of us. So stop.”

You sniff and shake your head. You reach up to poke his chin. He clucks.

“Sweetheart,” He looks down again and playfully snaps his teeth at you. “Don’t worry about me.”

You drop your hand. You look ahead as he pushes you through the hall toward the rear of the house. It’s smaller than where you were before. You assume it’s far away from there too.

He takes you out into the crisp air. You shiver and he drapes a coat over your front. You look at him.

“I’m not cold,” he argues.

You reach out from under the puffy coat and take his hand, gentle around his broken fingers. He stands beside you, thumb rubbing your knuckle, and you look out onto the frozen lake. He’s right. Well, Marta is. You need to be outside.

You shift and look down as your toe peeks out from under the blanket. Hard splints are wrapped tightly against your ankle to keep it in place. Still, you survived. 

The scar on your chest from the close graze of the dragon’s knife will blend in with the rest. The one on your side is bigger, thicker, but you’re not bothered. You can Patty match now that she has one of her own. There’s a few smaller ones on your face and all about. They’ll fade.

You look off into the distance again then tug on Lloyd’s hand. You lean your head back to gesture to the house. He takes you inside. He wheels you inside and hangs the coat. 

Next, he takes you into the kitchen and you watch him put the kettle on the stove. He turns and leans on the counter. You stare at him. You hate being so helpless. It reminds you of the room. That living coffin you rotted away in for so long.

You push away the blanket then grab the armrests. You push yourself up. Lloyd stands straight. You wave him off and set Patty in the seat. 

You keep your foot above the floor and hop over to him. You let him catch you on the last little leap. You lean against him.

“You always have done exactly what you shouldn’t,” he chortles.

You look up at him, your chin on his chest. You pucker your lips. His cheek dimples.

“Oh, don’t try to distract me.”

You drag your hands up his sides. He twitches. He grins.

“If you insist…” He bends down and kisses you. He grunts as you poke your tongue against his lips. He opens for you and you delve eagerly inside.

He rocks you as he melds into your kiss. You curl your arms around him, trapping him there with you. His splinted fingers brush your cheek.

You brush a hand up his shirt and under his arm. You feel along his chest and hook your fingers into his collar. You pet the hair beneath. He chuckles and draws back. He stares down at you with blazing eyes.

You wiggle against him. He winks and bends his legs. He reaches to hook his hands behind your knees and lifts you. He spins and puts you on the counter. 

He steps up between your knees and cradles your face in his hands. He presses another hungry kiss to your lips. Your hands trail up his thick neck and trace his defined jaw.

You run your hands back down to his chest. You press your palms flat and bask in how real and warm he feels. You don’t want anything else but that moment and him. Bruised, battered, whatever. None of it matters when you have someone to share it with.

His hands graze down your neck and long your shoulders. A chill runs through as his fingers walk down your arms. He hesitates. You grab his wrists and guide his hands to your chest.

He parts from you and you look up at him. You lean back and push your chest out into his touch. He stares you in the face. He doesn’t move.

You narrow your eyes and put your hands behind his. You squeeze until he does too. He groans and kneads your chest. It feels nice. You feel small in a way that makes you feel big.

You let him go. He bends to kiss you again. He smears his lips over yours and across your cheek. He trails along your jaw and down your neck. You tilt your head back and close your eyes.

He fondles you as you reach for him. You slip your fingers under his shirt and push it up. You feel his stomach clench as you touch his stomach. He growls and shudders. He rests his head on your shoulder.

“We can stop,” he says weakly.

You stroke his stomach then drag your fingertips down. You grip the top of his pants and tug. You kiss the side of his head, the short hair tickling your lips.

“I don’t want to either,” he lifts his head and leans against your forehead. His hot breath enshrines you. “Please tell me we don’t have to fuck in front of the platypus.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silence is Golden 32

Warnings: This will include dark elements. Please do not read if these elements or any dark elements make you uncomfortable.

Character: Lloyd Hansen, smol, mute! reader

Summary: you’re put in the custody of a strange man with questionable motives and an even more questionable mustache.

Please reblog if you enjoy and leave some feedback! Muah 💋

Lloyd unbuckles his belt. He winds it around your middle and pulls it tight to keep the folded up rag firm against your side. You jerk with his urgent strength. He sits you back in the seat and straps you in.

He touches your cheek as your lashes flutter.

“You’re okay, sunshine, it’s just the adrenaline on its way out,” he assures.

You bring your hands around Patty as she lays in your lap. He took off the harness so he could tear through your jacket and shirt. Your gaze strays through the windshield, across to the billowing black smoke enveloping the smashed van and flowing into the house.

“Next time, use the back door,” he tuts as he feels around in his pockets. 

He takes out his phone and searches some more. He rips off the screen in the dash and fishes around with the wiring. He uses a blocky connector to link it to his phone and squints as he taps on his cell. The engine rolls over.

“Electric starters. Worst fucking idea.” He lets his phone rest in the cradle behind the hanging touch screen.

He checks the mirror and shifts into reverse. He veers and spins to face the gates, once hanging sideways from your unceremonious invasion. You smile and sigh as he steps on the gas. You sense him peek over at you.

You’re happy. It’s over. You ended it.

Nothing will ever be like before but things can be different. They can be what you choose. You hug Patty and wiggle in your seat until the pain stops you. You wince and still. 

Lloyd reaches over and pets your head.

“We gotta get to the safe house. You’ll feel better once you’re laying down.” He promises as the engine whirs. “You’re gonna be okay, sweetheart.”

You nod and your head lolls to the side. You close your eyes.

“Woah, hey, don’t you be going to sleep on me,” he warns. “Listen, I can keep you awake. Trust. I got lots to talk about. You know it better than me, baby face. Let’s see…” he clucks in his throat. “Oh, first day of college. Pretty fucking funny, actually.

“Now I’m a legacy, get me? You know what a legacy is?” He asks.

You look at him, focusing on keeping your eyes open. You turn in your seat to signal you’re listening. His hand settles on your leg.

“Daddy went there. Granddaddy too, spit on his grave.” He scoffs. “Well, thing is, I’m not those assholes and I don’t wanna be known as their failure to pull the fuck out…”

You let him go on. Not like you could ever stop him. You like the sound of his voice. Even if some of the things he says are awful.

You put your hand on his and squeeze. You’re going to stay awake. You blink and it lasts a long time. Just focus on his voice.

🙊

You drift in and out of fogginess. Woven between your layers of consciousness is Lloyd’s incessant yammering. The world around you sways and shadows. You float as if on a cloud and land heavily on something soft.

A figure paces around and marches at you. Lloyd doesn’t stop. He calls your name, he talks to you.

“Sweetheart, you did good. Don’t do this, alright? Don’t fucking do this to me.” He strokes your cheek then kisses it.

Another patch of black sweeps over you. 

He’s there again. Rocking you against him. “You’re strong. The way you messed those assholes up. You can fight this too. I know you can, sunshine.”

Another dip in reality, broken by a searing pain in your side. He’s hissing. You can barely understand him.

Your eyes roll back once more. You succumb to the rippling embrace of hot and cold.

Sunshine peers through silvery frost, a magical glimmer of all the pretty things you’ve ever known. Music from a vinyl record, the smell of something savoury, your father’s voice and Amir’s laughter.

Lloyd’s angry snarl shatters the dream. Your skull thrums as you fight to open your eyelids. Something sharp slides beneath your skin. A coolness flows into your veins.

“Mr. Hansen,” a woman’s lilted voice eases your uncertainty. “You have to let me look at you too.”

“I don’t need a fucking doctor, Marta. Goddammit. Just deal with her.” Lloyd growls.

“I’m only a nurse,” she tuts back at him. “I’m doing what I can. The antibiotics and hydration should help.”

She touches your hand softly and tapes the IV in place. You open your eyes and blink at her. Your vision is fuzzy still and your head feels full of silk ribbons. You try to lift your hand. You look at Lloyd and shake your head weakly.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he steps forward. The woman he calls Marta signals for him to slow down. “Hey,” he gets to his knees next to the bed. “You’re just a bit woozy from the fight.”

Marta pinches your wrist. “Her pulse is stabilizing.”

“So she’ll be fine. Just like I said.” Lloyd insists.

“She has a far way to go. You need to follow protocol.” Marta stands and crosses her arms. “I can leave meds. Notes. I have a job–”

“Go back to the old fucking coot,” Lloyd sneers.

You lift your hand and show your palm. Marta pauses. You point at Lloyd. There’s blood on his neck.

He sighs and puts his hands on his hips. “Really? It’s cosmetics, sunshine. Promise.”

You scowl. He rolls his eyes. He turns to Marta.

“Alright, you can have a look, but I’m telling you, I’m fine.” He huffs.

You put your thumb up and drop your hand. You’re too weak. You just need to rest.

You sink back into a stupor. When you rouse again, you feel calmer, warmer. You sense movement beside you. You peek over at Lloyd as he sits against the headboard.

Your eyes focus on the thick fingers as they pull the slender needle through the fabric and fur. Back and forth. It’s so methodic and mindful. The sight is hypnotic.

Lloyd tugs on the thread and the stuffing is sealed beneath. He ties it off. You reach over to touch Patty.

He flinches and offers her up. You grit your teeth as you push your elbow down into the mattress.

“Woah, don’t do all that. You're gonna hurt yourself.”

You ignore Lloyd and angle yourself to lean against him. He lifts his arm over you as you drag yourself up to rest your head on his chest. You pull Patty close and hold him against her stomach. He pets your hair.

Things are going to be okay. Lloyd said so and you know him. He always gets what he wants, no matter what.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silence is Golden 31

Warnings: This will include dark elements. This chapter includes extreme blood and gore. Please do not read if these elements or any dark elements make you uncomfortable.

Character: Lloyd Hansen, smol, mute! reader

Summary: you’re put in the custody of a strange man with questionable motives and an even more questionable mustache.

Please reblog if you enjoy and leave some feedback! Muah 💋

Your footsteps follow you. You keep vigilant. A bullet, a slice, any obstacle is dealt with swiftly or silently. The few left don’t hear or see you coming. You know this place and you don’t mean to leave it standing.

You stop to reload your gun and sheath your knife. You run your hand along the front of the chest carrier and unbuckle Patty. You slip her out and something else slips to the floor, past your fingers. You check your surroundings before you retrieve it.

You pick up the folded paper. One corner is tucked beneath the fold of the paper so it’s kept in a tight square. The scrawl on it reads, ‘If I don’t come back.’ You look at Patty and the letter. It’s from Lloyd. No. He can’t be scared. He is never scared.

You put the letter in your pocket. You don’t have to read it because you are bringing him back. You shove the stuffing back into Patty as best you can and strap her back in. You have to keep going.

You look up and down the corridor. There’s only one place Lloyd could be. Only one person left in this chaos.

You keep your gun aimed ahead of you. A trail of bodies leads you forward. You step between them and approach the open doors.

Shattered glass, blood, casings… the floor is littered with it as you enter the large room. That vault where they would drag you and put you on your knees. Where they would ask you question after question until your head was spinning and your tongue tied.

A roar cuts through your memories and the air. You rush forward and hide behind one of the tall marble pillars. Rocco’s laughter curdles in your chest. You blow out your fear. It isn’t as strong as your anger.

“Little worm!” Rocco taunts.

You peek around as a grunt answers. The pop of a joint makes your stomach flip. Lloyd twitches on the floor as his forearm is pinned under Rocco’s large foot and the fat man lets his finger go. It’s limp and loose. 

“Fuck you, pig boy.” Lloyd coughs. He reaches and swings up with a blade. Rocco easily knocks it away and the metal rings against the marble floor.

“I should’ve crushed you before. You in your lady shoes!” Rocco grabs another finger and twists. The audible pop of it coming out of socket makes you sick.

Don’t hide. Don’t let him do it again. For Amir. For Father. For you.

You raise the barrel and aim. Rocco chortles as he puts his hands on his hips, his large stomach bouncing as Lloyd squirms and hisses. You take a breath and step out from behind the pillar.

You pull the trigger but as you do, you’re thrown forward by an unexpected force. A man falls on you as Rocco cries out in surprise and your bullet hits the wall instead. You hit the floor and send your elbow back. Your side screams but you ignore the burning.

A thick arm circles your neck as a man snags you from behind. You push your arm under you and angle the gun up blindly. You fire, another hot graze across your side as the shot pierces the man’s wider body. He flinches and his hold on your slackens.

You throw your head back and something cracks. He gurgles and you slide from beneath him. Swiftly, you fire a second shot into his head. Another singes past your ear.

You flatten yourself and scuttle back behind the pillar.

Another grunt. This one Rocco. There’s a struggle.

You look around the marble as Lloyd kicks at Rocco’s thick knee. He's alive. You made it.

The rotund man falls to a half-kneel, swaying as he struggles to balance his weight. Lloyd kicks his stomach and sends him back onto his heels. The man growls at the pop in his knees.

Lloyd rolls away and crawls toward the black pistol beside him. You’re too slow. You raise your gun as Rocco’s hand moves. He fires first. Lloyd falls to his stomach as the shot hits between his shoulder blades.

Your lip trembles. No. No. No. Everything. Everything. Rocco takes everything. You knew it. You tried to warn Lloyd and now...

You dive out from behind the column. It’s over. One way or another. If you have to die here with Lloyd, at least you won’t be alone. Your chest tightens as you try not to think of it. Try not to look at the body face down beside Rocco.

You weren’t fast enough. Not strong enough. You didn’t save him. Just like you didn’t save Amir. Or your father.

This isn’t about saving anyone anymore. It’s about killing Rocco.

He fires at you. He misses. You fire again. You get his arm. You’re shaking. Stop that.

He fires again. It hits your hand; you get another shot off. It hits his shoulder before the pistol falls for your grasp.

You’re faster, you’re on your feet. He can’t get up from his knees, paralysed by his own gluttonous figure. You kick the gun from his large hand. He latches onto your ankle and pulls you off balance. 

You catch yourself on your elbows, keeping your head from snapping back into the floor. Your side is on fire, your temples are pounding, and your ears ring. You bring your other foot up and stomp upwards. Your heel cracks his nose, then his chin, then his cheek.

He swats you away but you don’t stop. You kick his neck, his chest, his stomach. He keeps a hold of your ankle, trapping you on your back. He twists and your bones ring out in agony. You spasm in agony and plant your other foot. He doesn’t let go.

You slap the floor then drag your hand back. You reach behind you, under you and curl up. He swipes at your face with his free hand. You barely keep out of his deathly maul. You lean back and crush your hand.

You slide the knife out and inch. You gnash your teeth as his grip on your ankle throb. You tug more. Another inch. You need to sit up. Dang. You have to.

You sit up. He grabs the back of your neck and guffaws in triumph. His thick fingertips curl into your neck. He brings you closer, folding you into a ball as he tightens his hold on you, threatening to detach your head from your spine.

You get the knife free and jerk your hand forward by your hip. The blade sinks into the fat of his stomach. His laughter is cut short as he lets you go. His hands go to his stomach as shock contorts his creased and overinflated face.

You push the blade in deeper, until the handle won’t let you go any further. You twist as he bellows. He reaches for you and grips your head between his hands. He claws at you, renting down your temples and cheeks. You don’t feel any of it as you spin the blade inside of him.

Blood stains his lips and he gurgles. He wheezes and you pull the blade free. Red spews out of his stomach as he pulls his hands back as he tries to stem the flow.

You drop the knife. You get to your knees and huff. You shove him and he falls onto his back. He’s weak. He can do nothing but splay before you. You ignore how your ankle throbs. You climb over him and push your fingertips against the wound in his stomach.

You force them inside and wiggle until you get your whole hand inside of him. You burrow into the layers of fat. You watch his face as it slowly drains, still twisting as he feels your intrusion. He sputter and growls.

“Bitch. Scum.” His words are slick with blood and saliva. “Like your father.”

Like your father. Like he did the same to him. Cut into him, took piece of him, made you watch.

You latch onto something. Anything. You snarl and grind your teeth as you pull and tear it from him. The scholicky, horrifying noise is unnatural. You don’t know what it is but you bring the engorged, dripping organ up between you. You show him his spleen, his liver, his kidney? It makes no difference.

His eyes widen and his face spasms uncontrollably as the pieces that connect extend from within him. He stares until he doesn’t. Until the life is gone from his eyes. Until he is dead. Not dead enough.

You drop the organ and search the floor. You see your knife. You drag yourself to it. As you reach with bloody hands, another falls over yours. You wince and look up. 

Lloyd is on his side. He’s alive. He squeezes your hand. “No, baby. No. He’s dead. That’s enough.”

Your eyes round. You blink. You look down at the knife then his hand. You relent and cling onto him instead. You touch his hand his arm, you follow it up to his shoulder and then his face. It’s not real.

“Sunshine, please, you’re getting guts all over me,” he takes your wrists and moves your hands away from his face. He sits up with a groan. “Damn bastard knocked the goddamn air out of me.”

You frown. You don’t understand. You saw Rocco shoot him.

With his other hand, the one with bent and broken fingers, he touches his jacket. There’s holes in it, some slices. You slip free of his grasp and rip one open. There’s a hard layer of kevlar underneath. You look up at him.

“Goddamn, sweetheart,” he drops his hand to your side. “If I knew you were gonna come in here demon mode I woulda brought one for you.”

You look down as his touch stings. He pushes apart the slick fabric of your jacket and shirt. You figured as much.

“Clean shot. Right through.” He says. “You’re still up so… hopefully…” He presses his palm to the wound. “Come on. Let’s get the blood stopped. Alright?”

You look him in the face. You point to Patty. He glances down.

“Her too. We’ll fix you both up.” He grunts and curls his other arm around you. “Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

He lifts you to your feet with him. You lean on him as your ankle reverberates with pain. His hand shakes against your back as he supports you, his fingers torturously twisted. You limp with him across the room and into the hall.

You’re silent as you make your way through the house. Lloyd stops as he sees The dragon laying in a puddle of blood and bone. “Goddamn,” he growls. You shrug. “You’re a beast, baby face.”

You nudge him. You need to get out. You’re really starting to feel it. All of it.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silence is Golden 30

Warnings: This will include dark elements. This chapter includes blood and gore. Please do not read if these elements or any dark elements make you uncomfortable.

Character: Lloyd Hansen, smol, mute! reader

Summary: you’re put in the custody of a strange man with questionable motives and an even more questionable mustache.

Please reblog if you enjoy and leave some feedback! Muah 💋

The van shakes as it bounces over the uneven forest floor. You have your foot down, clinging onto the wheel, nearly standing as you push to the floor. You need to get there right now!

You veer as you break the treeline and spin onto the smooth pavement of the road. You slam on the breaks and fall back into the seat. You catch your breath and turn the wheels straight. You're not going. To run away. Not ever again.

You step on the pedal and barrel down the road. You know this way, even years after that fateful day. You don't let it deter you, you hold onto it, you take the helplessness of that girl and promise her to do better.

You see the wall ahead. The first time it reminded you of a castle, now all you see is a prison. You crank the wheel and brace yourself for impact.

The bumper clanks loudly into the iron gates. They buckle and open about a foot. You shift into reverse and back up, bringing both feet down to lurch forward again. This time the gates swing wide and the van hurdles into the courtyard.

Men holler and scatter. You tell Patty to hold on and don't stop. Not until the van collides with the brick. Your chest hits the steering wheel and you fly back, wheezing as the air is knocked out of you.

You slump to the side and touch Patty. She's okay. You don't know if you are. You rub your chest until you can gasp in air.

You hear someone coming. Shit. The voice gets closer and the handle creaks. You turn and slide free the pistol. The man opens the door, thrown back by the quick shot from your barrel.

Gunpowder tinges your nose and you push the man away with your foot. The next appears and you fire again. This time you push out and fall down behind his body. Several shots hit his back.

You roll under the van behind the shelter of the corpses. You turn over and check the other side. A third man falls, a bullet in his chest, but he's not dead. Another shot silences him.

You sidle down towards the smoking engine crushed into the brick. A bullet pings off the muffler then another piece of metal closer to your head. Several raise the ground next to the van.

You quietly slip into the ruin of the hedges. You hold your breath as the smoke thickens. You're trapped between the tires and the wall. Shit.

You tuck the gun in your holster. You feel along your belt. You clamp down the lever and pull the pin on the grenade.

You pull your arm back as you press your head to the tire. You hurl the explosive blindly and here it skin over the ground. You make yourself small beneath the axel and cover your ears.

The ground shakes as a shattering boom sends shockwaves over the ground and rocks the van. You stay as you are as you hear the shower of shrapnel and brick, several heavy thumps pounding on the van. The voices change. Several groaning and sputtering, others calling for retreat.

You take your gun out again. You lead with the barrel as you peak out. Smoke and dust obscures the air. You slide out and cautiously get to your kneesm you fire at the movement to your left. The man falls to his knees then his face.

You shake your head and dust of Patty. She says don't worry about her. You grip the gun and make your way toward the gaping maw of the wall.

You dodge a falling sheet of plaster and wait. You're greeted by two more adversaries. You feel their bullets whiz by but yours are true to target. You step over their bodies and steady your hands.

You know what you're doing. Lloyd taught you. You practiced. Hours and days and months. Time that didn't matter before. Time that never had meaning. Well now it will mean everything.

The iron scent of blood mingles with that if gunpowder and ash. You enter the high-ceilinged room with elaborate Romanticism portraits and shining golden ornaments. The statues are cracked, the golden candelabra are toppled, and men lay face down in pools of blood. You scurry over, mindful of each step. You press yourself to the wall as you near the doorway and listen.

This room. It's not so bright anymore. Not so scary. This room. Where Rocco handed you over like you were nothing more than a piece of flutter.

You skirt around the doorframe and into the next hall. A stunning force sends you back and your gun flies from your grip. You cough and land on your stomach. You flip over and evade the next kick. You roll backward get your feet under you. You duck and dodge as the shadow bears down on you.

"Still just as pathetic as the day I found you," the grinding voice taunts as you get your hands up. "Told Roc to let me put you down. He don't listen."

It's him. The dragon. You whirl out of the way of another punch only to be hit in the stomach by his next. You feel and stumble back.

You spin and throw an elbow. He catches your arm and swings you into the wall. Your chest hits Patty, crushing her, and your soles slip on the floor.

You snarl and collapse your legs, bringing all your weight down as you draw him with you. He bends and you fling your other fist out. He lets you go.

You scramble away from him, elbow throbbing, and puff as you get back to your feet. He cackles and pulls out a blade from his belt. Your heart leaps.

He charges at you. You spin out of the way. The whisper of his knife grazes your sleeve, then your side. You weave as you keep mind of his hands. You feel a jab on your chest, not enough to cut you but enough to scare you.

You reel back and feel along Patty's stomach. Her stuffing is poking out between her fur. He stabbed her!

You gnash your teeth and dip under another slice. As you do, you grab the heavy stone base of one of the overturned vases. You fling yourself away from another swipe and smash his hand with the marble. The square falls out of your grasp as he cries out and his knife flatters to the ground.

You heave as The Dragon cradles his hand, knuckles crooked and bloodied. He grits and glares at you, reaching for his belt with his uninjured hand. You reach behind you and slide the long knife out of its sheath.

How dare he hurt Patty! He pulls his gun free with his left hand. His motion isn't as smooth as the muzzle catches on the holster. You don't hesitate.

You hear Amir's voice; they didn't break you.

You raise the knife and bring it down with all your force. The gun fires and your side burns. You don't care. You don't care. You don't care.

You plunge the blade down into his shoulder until the pistol hits the ground. You pull it out and swipe downward once more. You slice into the sinew of his chest as he gurgles and staggers back.

You follow him down and twist the knife. You watch it split through his flesh and shirt. You angle it as he roars, collapsing onto his back as you straddle him.

You lift the tip above you and put all your force behind it. You stab and stab and stab. Your eyes fill with tears as blood splatters over you. Your shallow breaths have you dizzy as his groans turn to nothing but the mulch of flesh and bone.

You. Are. Not. Broken. You are just getting started.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silence is Golden 29

Warnings: This will include dark elements. Please do not read if these elements or any dark elements make you uncomfortable.

Character: Lloyd Hansen, smol, mute! reader

Summary: you’re put in the custody of a strange man with questionable motives and an even more questionable mustache.

Please reblog if you enjoy and leave some feedback! Muah 💋

You’re restless as you sit in the back of the van. A better description would be sitting, standing, pacing, fidgeting, and sitting again. You wring your hands as you track Lloyd’s location via the dot on the map. He’s on foot but moving quickly.

You sit and pet Patty as you try to calm your nerves. He said it’s going to be okay. You want to believe that but you know what happens when things aren’t. You know how it feels.

Watch and be ready. Patty girds. You’re not powerless.

Her words are comforting but not enough. You lean closer as the dot moves close to Rocco’s property. You flip through the cameras. You can’t see Lloyd. That’s probably good. It means no one else will. All you can see is that little red dot weaving towards the back of the gates.

You cup your chin and hunch as you watch anxiously. He’s inside now. You roll through again. There he is, at the back door.

You hold your breath as he subdues a man coming out. Then another. He moves like a snake, taking them into his coil and lowering them to the ground. He drags them behind the hedges then checks the knife in his hand. You don’t care about the stains on the steel blade.

People who do bad things, deserve those bad things, Patty taunts. You stroke her fur. I know but I wish there weren’t bad people. 

Your stomach swishes violently as Lloyd goes inside. You switch cameras. You just feel rotten. It’s just your fear, not his. He knows what he’s doing.

He manages to hide behind a statue. You focus on that Grecian goddess with her ewer. You recognise her. You walked past her many times; in the beginning. How many times did you wish you could turn to stone and not think?

Lloyd gets another man out of the way. The further he gets, the stiller you are. He’s getting there. His patience is admirable, almost uncharacteristic. You see a man in his element. He has no doubt where you are drowning in them.

Something catches your eye on the next screen. The dark shape moves out of frame before you can focus on it. You switch to the next camera, the one outside the gates. It’s a vehicle; large and boxy. Shoot.

You could warn Lloyd. He has an earpiece in. You can hear the scuffling, the grunt of struggling men, the soft, cautious footsteps. Shoot. 

You touch your ear and open your mouth. Say something. Do it!

Your throat locks up. You close your eyes and drop your chin. You can’t. It’s talking that made everything worse. When you answered their questions thinking you could save your father and Amir. When you told Amir it would be okay and it wasn’t. Just like Lloyd told you…

You open your eyes and look at the screen. A man gets out of the SUV. He’s tall and his shoulders are naturally square. You can only see his curly gray hair but you know by his gait what his face looks like. Pocked and sinister. Older but no less cruel.

The man in the grocery store. The one who followed you home. The one who made you watch what he did to your father and Amir. The one who let Rocco do what he wanted to.

You stand up. You grip the edge of the metal table and snarl. You have never felt hate in your life. Even in that dark room; you were lost, you were scared, but you didn’t hate. 

The man heads inside and you stand straight and grip your head. You look back to the screen where Lloyd was. He’s not there anymore. You tap the button to flick through. You find him in another hallway.

You glance back at the curly-haired man. They called him the dragon. He likes fire. He’s inside.

You teeter on your feet and hug Patty in her carrier. What do I do?

Hide. In the dark. Again. She taunts.

Don’t be mean.

That’s what you want to do, isn’t it?

Shut up! No. I… you weren’t there.

You know what you have to do. Can you do it?

Your hand falls to the holster on your belt. You touch the gun. He showed you how to use it. He showed you how to be strong. Yet you let him go alone. You let him go in knowing how these men can be. He’s just one person. 

But so are you.

But neither of you is alone.

You grit your teeth and stomp over to the suitcase. You flip it open. You shuffle through the leftovers. There’s a long knife that was probably too much to fit into his array. You’ll take that. Another smaller gun you can fit into your boot.

And a grenade.

You take it all. You stand and go back to the screen. You jump and clutch your fists as you see that man and Lloyd headed for each other. No, no, no. You have to go and you have to go now.

You flip to the map. Due east. You memorise the path and nod. You can’t mess this up. Not this time.

You go to the door and stop. You look down at Patty. You reach for the buckle across her chest.

You’re not leaving me behind again, she says.

You drop your hand and push the doors open instead. You slam them and hurry around to the front of the van. You get behind the steering wheel and turn the keys. You grip the ridged vinyl. You never learned to drive. Well, it’s never too late.

R goes backwards…

You shift and veer the wheel, the van bouncing wildly as you spin and turn towards the opening between the trees. You pull the stick and stomp on the pedal. You lurch forward and clench your jaw to keep your skull from rattling.

You’re not going to stay in the dark. You’re not going to wait and see. You're not going in quietly.

You are going to take back what they took from you and stop them from taking anything else. You are going to do something.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silence is Golden 28

Warnings: This will include dark elements. Please do not read if these elements or any dark elements make you uncomfortable.

Character: Lloyd Hansen, smol, mute! reader

Summary: you’re put in the custody of a strange man with questionable motives and an even more questionable mustache.

Please reblog if you enjoy and leave some feedback! Muah 💋

Your stomach is doing somersaults. Your eyes crawl over the high-ceilings and polished floors. You never thought anywhere would feel like this again. Like somewhere you want to be.

You stand by the front door as you wait. A single suitcase stands beside you with a hard black shell. You sway as you hug Patty. You’re zipped up in a dark jacket with boots tightly laced. You’re ready to go but not. You’re just ready for it to be over.

“Almost forgot,” Lloyd strides back in. He was ready to open the door and suddenly disappeared, promising his return over his shoulder. “One last thing.”

He holds up something with straps. You try to untangle it with your eyes as he does the same with his hands. He approaches and stops in front of you.

“Here, gimme this,” he gently touches Patty. You squeeze her but hand her over. He puts her on the side table then holds the straps open. “Arms.”

You hesitate but extend your arms. He slides the straps up and snaps a plastic buckle behind you. The harness clings to your tightly. He drags his hands around your sides deliberately and looks down at you.

“And then…” He takes Patty and tucks her into the pocket sewn into the front of the harness. You look down and smile. You look up at him. “I get restless.” He shrugs. “Impulse purchases.”

You pet Patty then step closer. You gesture to him. He leans down and you kiss his cheek.

“You’re welcome, sunshine.” He caresses your sleeve. “But we gotta go.”

You nod and back up. He grabs the extended handle of the suitcase. He opens the door and waits for you to go out first.

He follows you out as you head for the car parked not too far from the steps. He rolls around and puts the suitcase in the trunk. As he shuts it, you stand near the passenger door. He glances at you. His brow tweaks.

“It’s unlocked.” He says.

He struts up to the driver’s side. You wait until he opens his door to do the same. You get in and shut it softly. You twist around to grab the seat belt. You carefully pull it across, mindful not to smother Patty.

You look up. He’s watching you. He reaches to stroke your cheek before he draws away. He buckles his own seat belt and slaps a hand around the steering wheel.

“Alright. We got a dead drop then we set the observation point,” he says. “Then I’ll go hit the target.”

He shifts into gear and you reach over to grab his wrist. Your eyes meet. You’re nervous.

“Sweetheart. I know I’m not the easiest to trust but you gotta,” he says. “You get my six and it’s all good.”

You let your fingers graze the back of his hand. You nod. You draw away and clasp your hands tightly together. He pulls around and steers down the long drive.

You know he can handle himself, but you also know Rocco and his men. It’s not simple. It never has been. You want to believe it’s as easy as Lloyd says but you just can’t.

🙊

The tires kick up gravel as Lloyd drives up the incline. He veers around behind a slanted wooden shack and shifts into park. He kills the engine then punches the horn. You glance at him curiously.

“Just wait.” He assures you.

You do. For a few minutes before you notice anything. The shack door opens and a man steps out. He looks… normal. His glasses fog up as he descends the rickety steps, nearly stumbling down the last.

“Come on,” Lloyd gets out.

You wait until he’s at your side of the car to do so. The other man meets him there. His hair is yellow and spiky at the top. His cheeks redden as the cold creeps up them.

He looks between you and Lloyd.

“All geared up,” the man says and holds out a set of keys.

“Good job, specs,” Lloyd snatches them. 

The other man frowns and looks between the two of you. His gaze lingers. “Oh cool. Is that a platypus?”

“Yo, Jakey Poo, eyes up here,” Lloyd warns with a jab to the man’s chest. “Where is it?”

“Just making conversation.” The man shrugs. “Come on.”

Lloyd grabs the suitcase from the trunk before he follows. You trail after him. The closer you get, the worse you feel. You just have the boiling bubble in your gut.

You head down the other side of the hill to a cluster of trees. There’s a black van there. The man goes forward and opens the back.

“All feeds active. Just ran through testing.” He announces.

Lloyd shoves the suitcase inside then turns to wave you over, “come here, sweetheart.” You near and he lifts you into the van just as easily as the bag. “Jake, show her how it works. She’s running ops.”

“Sure,” the man, Jake, climbs up beside you. “You good with computers?”

You’re quiet. Lloyd sighs.

“She don’t talk. Just show her.”

“Oh, no problem.” He points you to the screens and panels mounted to the walls of the van. “I got a nonverbal sister.”

“Didn’t ask,” Lloyd scoffs.

You grimace and turn to look around Jake. You meet his eyes. His mouth slants.

“Alright, I’ll be nice,” he shows his palms.

You shake your head. Jake is helping, you don’t see why he needs to be like that. You spin around and dip your chin towards the other man. You tap your ear. You’re listening.

You hang off every word as he explains how to flip between feeds and how to zoom in. Everything you don’t know how to do. There’s a directory with a floorplan of the house; Rocco’s house.

“Right here is a dead zone,” Jake points to a room you know well. The one that was always dark. “No one goes in or out.”

You stare. You can’t help but wonder if there’s someone in there now. Or did they just forget about you; like Amir and your father.

“Great,” Lloyd hauls himself up into the van and hunches under the roof. “Think she’s got it.”

“Always a pleasure, Hansen,” Jake turns to Lloyd. “Next time you need a favour, don’t call.”

The brush by each other and Jake hops down onto the ground. He turns back.

“It was nice meeting you. And the platypus.” He waves. “Be careful with this guy. He’s a moron.”

“Takes one to know one, Jakey. Goodbye.” Lloyd huffs and turns to you. “You got it?”

You nod as Jake’s footfalls fade off through the dirt. You turn and tap a button. You navigate to the front doors.

“Good job,” he rubs your shoulder. “I told you, I got it all figured out.”

You chew your lip. You really, truly want to believe it. You want to trust him but your dang stomach is churning. You pet Patty and rock. He knows what he’s doing, she insists.

“Alright, let me get ready then we head out to bird’s eye,” he says.

He turns and shuts the van doors. He backs up and grabs the suitcase. He puts it on its side and unzips it. It’s filled with guns and knives and things you couldn’t name.

He unzips his jacket and reveals the harness beneath. He takes out a pistol and slides it into the holster on his thigh. On his other, he slips in several blades of varying size. Seeing all of it makes what comes next very real.

You step closer and point. He pauses and looks at you. “Wanna help?”

You nod.

“Alright, baby. You see that long canister there? I need that.” You grab the canister and hand it to him. He clips it on his belt. “Smoke bomb.” He explains. You make a face. “Just in case.”

“Oh, that one. The silver gun.” He points. You pick up the long barrelled pistol. You turn and hold it out with the handle to him. He puts his hand on the butt and pushes it toward you. “That’s yours. Keep it on you.”

You frown.

“I’m just being safe, alright?” He coaxes. “That’s what you’re worried about, isn’t it?”

You look at the gun. You turn it in your grasp and examine it. “Take some ammo too. In the box with the silver moon on it.” He points. You do just that.

“Holster,” he picks up the very item. He steps closer and unzips your coat. He clips it on your belt. “Hey, you’re worried about me. Well, it goes both ways, don’t it?” He takes the gun out of your hands and slides it into the holster. “Difference is, I know you’re a badass, sweetheart. You’re gonna be just fine.”

You look up at him as he hunches under the ceiling. You bring your hands to his cheeks and stand on your toes. You press your lips to his. You want to remember that feeling forever.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silence is Golden 27

Warnings: This will include dark elements. Please do not read if these elements or any dark elements make you uncomfortable.

Character: Lloyd Hansen, smol, mute! reader

Summary: you’re put in the custody of a strange man with questionable motives and an even more questionable mustache.

Please reblog if you enjoy and leave some feedback! Muah 💋

You watch through the window as the lone figure walks out the gates. You tilt your head. God’s leaving. You didn’t realise he would be gone so soon.

“What’s up, sunshine? Snowing again?” Lloyd asks as the puff of steam and scent of his shower gel fills the room. You lower your head as you refuse to look back at him. He’s very comfortable around you. Shameless even.

He comes up behind you and brushes the back of your neck with his knuckle. You shiver. He pulls the curtain further back and he clicks his tongue.

“He’s got work. I guess I called at a bad time,” he scoffs. “Reliable guy but you know, kinda weird.”

He backs up and sits on the bed. You teethe your lip and look at him. You fold your hands and bounce on your feet. He uses the smaller towel around his neck to rub dry his hair. His eyes meet yours.

“What?” He asks. You purse your lips. “Ah, come on, sweetheart. I don’t need him. You know I’m just fine.”

You cross your arms and exhale. You don’t know why you assumed, maybe you just wanted to believe it. The thought of Lloyd going in alone makes you even more uneasy than going yourself.

“Don’t give me that face,” he lets the top drape over his broad shoulder. “I’m good, honey. Really.”

You turn back to the window and tug the curtain back to look through. You can’t see God anymore. Lloyd gets up. You smell him getting closer. He pets your shoulder as he looms behind you.

“Look, it’s sweet that you’re worrying for me. It’s got me feeling all tingly. I don’t think anyone’s ever been concerned about me coming back. Well, not that I would, more that I would.” He snorts. “I can take care of me. Have so far.”

You shake your head. You spin and put your back to the curtain. He surprises you as he runs his finger up your neck and traces your chin. Your cheek twitches. It tickles.

You grab his wrist. His eyes are on your lips. You dig your teeth into the lower one until he brushes his thumb up to stop you.

“If you’re going to miss me, well, you got me right now,” he says, his gazeflicking between your mouth and eyes.

Your cheeks go hot. You squeeze his wrist.

“Alright, look, I was gonna wait to talk about it. It’s been a lot.” He twists his arm out of your hold and swiftly latches onto you. He pulls you with him to the bed as he backs up. He puts you on his lap. The knot of the towel presses against the side of your thigh. “You can’t stay here. Rocco’s sniffing around. He’s down a guy and as annoying as he is, he isn’t fucking stupid. Trust me, I factored it in.”

You pout but listen to him. His hand wanders up and down your side.

“We’ll move first to a safe house. Somewhere secret. A rendezvous point in case the shit goes watery.” He says. You scrunch up your face. He’s creative in a really gross way.

He chuckles and brushes his fingertips up your arm. Another ripple rolls through you. You squirm and his other hand pets your hair.

“I got it. Alright. Chill.” He frames your face as his thumb strokes your cheek.

You stare at him. It’s not just your cheeks that burn, it’s all of you. It happens when you’re close to him.

You shift and feel the knot loosen. The towel falls slack. He leans in, just a little. You bring your hand up to his chest. You’re shaking.

His fingers curl behind your head and he urges you closer. You tense and stop him as his mouth is only an inch from yours. He shudders and whimpers.

“Baby face. I’m being good.” His fingertips graze your scalp. “You want me to stop… Goddamn, I’ll stop.”

Your hand quivers. You can see it in his eyes. He’s fighting himself. You drag your touch up to his neck. You feel his throat bob.

Your skin tingles as it grazes his. You trace his jaw and his lower lip. Then you brush over the bristly mustache. He tilts his head back and narrows his eyes.

You pull your finger back and bend it then stick it back up. He shrugs. Your cheeks dimple and you look down. You touch your lips then his again.

“First kiss?” He wonders.

Your eyes go wide and hunch inward. You nod.

“I’m sure you’re a natural,” he coaxes.

You smile and make yourself look at him. He stares.

“I’m yours, baby. Up to you…”

You drop your hand to his chest again. Your heart is fluttering. You want to but you’re scared. Yet, you’re even more terrified of letting him go and not even trying once.

You lean in. You angle your head to press your lips to his and close your eyes. They’re warm and soft.

He hums. You pull back and blink. He chuckles.

“First? You could’ve fooled me,” he purrs.

You grin and hold up two fingers.

“Oh, I’m ready for round two,” his hand trails up your back and he pulls you to him.

He kisses you this time. Firmly. He tilts his head then flicks his tongue across your lips. You wince but don’t pull away.

You open your mouth and let him in. You get nervous and part. You make a face and shrug.

“It’s okay, baby face. You just do what I do, alright?”

You nod and lean in again. You kiss him. This time it’s not as confusing. You do as he says and mimic him.

It’s nice. It’s making you all bubbly and hot. You hook your arm around his neck and slide closer to his torso. He lays back with you slowly.

His hands rove up and down your sides. You squirm atop him and he hums into your mouth. He tickles along the bottom of your shirt. He lifts the hem, bit by bit.

He rolls you over as he traps you under him. He smothers you as his hand crawls up your stomach. You squeak and slap his shoulder. You do it again, and again. Frantic until he pulls away from your mouth.

“Shit, sunshine, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean– did I hurt you?” He asks.

You shake your head. It’s just too much. You want more but at the same time, you feel as if you’re drown. You frown.

“No, don’t,” he shifts and takes his weight off of you. He lays on his stomach beside you. He rests his head on your shoulder. “Just know, I’m not like this for anyone else.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silence is Golden 26

Warnings: This will include dark elements. Please do not read if these elements or any dark elements make you uncomfortable.

Character: Lloyd Hansen, smol, mute! reader

Summary: you’re put in the custody of a strange man with questionable motives and an even more questionable mustache.

Please reblog if you enjoy and leave some feedback! Muah 💋

You think. A lot. You usually avoid it. Try not to dig too deep beneath the cobwebs.

But you have to. You have to face it all and decide. Do you go forward? Do you stay and sink? Do you go back?

It's not a simple decision. It's not just whether you go off to face Rocco and the men like him. It's much more than that.

Vengeance. Patty says that's a valid reason but wonders of it's good enough. You're just as uncertain.

Closure. Can it really just be over? Can you turn that last page? And is Lloyd's plan the way to do that?

Peace. That's a lovely dream. A wonderful someday but you know better than that.

A future. That's something you didn't have before. It's what they took from you. Not just your dad and brother, but what you could have been. What you could've had with them. Happiness, memories, love.

You don't know what the end is but you have decided your part in it. You have to choose. Stay or go. Hide or fight. It's not simple. Nothing ever is.

Lloyd is around. If he catches you out of bed, he'll be upset. You're too restless to spend any longer under the blankets. And you're not very cold anymore.

You decide on a good excuse. He said something about hot chocolate. If he asks...well, he probably won't get an answer. Ha!

You go to the kitchen. You open the cupboard and eye the row of mugs. All black. A roundish square shape. Fancy.

You take one down. A click makes you jump before the porcelain clinks on the counter. You turn to face God.

He nears. You take another mug down and peek at him. He nods.

He doesn't make you feel like you have to talk. Or that you have to do anything. He's comfortable in silence.

He finds the chocolate powder. He knows the place better than you. He spoons it into the cups. You wait until the kettle clicks again. The water steams.

He pours and mixes, then adds some milk to each. You take one and look at him again. He lifts the cup and tilts his head slightly. You raise your mug and blow over it.

You lean on the counter. He does too. You take small careful sips. You're almost done when he speaks.

"He needs you. He needs someone to think before they act. Someone to watch his back." God says then empties his cup. He swallows and rinsed his cup. "He will keep you safe."

You stare at him. Lloyd has, so far. Even though you walked straight into danger time after time. It's you're turn to do the same. In your own way.

"I'll be gone soon. You need to talk to him." He turns and walks out. You watch him go.

He's like Patty. He's wise.

...

You go back to the bedroom. Patty is patiently waiting. You promised you'd be back.

You sit on the edge of the bed and watch the flames in the glass fireplace. You think you know what to do. You just need Lloyd to understand.

You think of how to tell him. It's scary. For so long, you've done all you can to keep everything inside. To never say a word, never let another secret slip. You can't ever be as careless or weak as you were before.

The only way to be safe was to give nothing. Or, that's what you thought.

When Lloyd appears, you glance at him. You wait. He comes to sit next to you. You fidget.

You lift your hand and freeze. Your heart is racing. You make a scribbling motion with your hand.

"Hm." He hums. "You want a pen?"

You tap the air with your finger. He clicks his tongue and stands. You listen to him pull out a draw and the noise of his search. He returns to you with a leather notebook and sleek metal pen.

You take them. You hesitate and squeeze the book. You open the pages. Your hand shakes.

You write two words. 'Thank you."

He reads it, his arm against you.

" It's whatever. A pen and paper." He scoffs. "Must be important, baby face, so what's up?"

You take a breath. You draw a line then scribble it out. It's hard to put your thoughts into words that make sense.

'Want to help.' You write then show him.

"Alright..." His tone dangles. He knows you have more to say.

You put the nib to paper. 'Will help but not go.'

He nods as he reads.

"Sure," he looks at you. "Baby, you wanna stay, you stay. I'll be happy as a cat with milk knowing your right here waiting for me."

You scrunch up your lips.

You hover the pen before you can decide on how to ask. Or tell.

'Watch.'

He reads and shakes his head. He looks at you and waits. You cringe. You scribble.

'I watch you.'

He clucks as he thinks. He pets his mustache as he leans over his lap. He looks up at you.

"Surveillance. Is that what you mean?"

You point at him with the pen. He sits up.

"Sure. That makes sense. Earpiece is easy enough. I already got ops on that assholes camera system. You'll have the perfect view of my ass as I take that shit hole down." He boasts.

He understands. Good.

'Sorry. Can't go. Too much... Left behind.' You write.

"All good, sweetheart. I told you, it's up to you." He says.

You look at him. He's smiling. You quickly write a word.

'Why?'

"Why what?" He asks.

You put your head down and draw on the page. A face with a mustache and a big smile. He snorts.

"That supposed to be me?" He asks. "Well, sweetheart, I'm smiling because you. This is the first time we've every had a conversation. It's... Nice."

You grin. Slowly. He's right. It's very nice.

He runs his knuckles up your arm. "I love it when you smile. Even better when it's 'cause of me."

Your eyes crinkle. He's cheesy. You shake your head.

You dig the tip of the pen into the page. You twist it as your heart skips. You don't know if you can.

It's okay. You have us. Both of us. Patty assures you. You peek back at her.

You bend your head and move your hand slowly. Each letter is like carving in stone. You haven't written them in so long and yet you've probably written them more than any others.

You hold up the book. Lloyd reads. He enunciates it aloud.

You point at yourself with the pen as he repeats your name quizzically. You stare at him.

"That's your name." He states. You tap the page with the pen. You haven't heard anyone say it in so long. You feel almost like a person again.

You close the book around the pen and set it aside. He shifts. You turn back to him.

You sidle closer on the bed and twist toward him. You sling your arms around his middle and lean your head on his chest. He eases and rubs your back.

"You know me, sunshine. I don't mind filling the silence." He slowly lays back with your against him. "Did I ever tell you about that time God ruined my Lexus?"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silence is Golden 25

Warnings: This will include dark elements. Please do not read if these elements or any dark elements make you uncomfortable.

Character: Lloyd Hansen, smol, mute! reader

Summary: you’re put in the custody of a strange man with questionable motives and an even more questionable mustache.

Please reblog if you enjoy and leave some feedback! Muah 💋

"How is she?" Lloyd asks for about the sixth time. "Check her seatbelt."

God cranes to share a look with you. He's easy to read. At least, you think so. He just sighs and turns his sights forward.

"She's fine." It's the same answer he's given each time.

"Sunshine? Are you cold? Should I blast the heat?" Lloyd reaches to fiddle with the touch screen.

"Just drive." God firmly moves his hand away from the controls.

"Look, I'm just making sure."

"I can drive." God says.

"Not after what you did to the Lexus." Lloyd retorts.

You lean forward. The blanket shifts around you and the seatbelt tugs on you. You tap Lloyd's shoulder. You push your hand over it so he can see the thumbs up in the mirror.

"Sweetheart, you wanna sit back. Don't need to be gettin' hurt--“

God sighs again.

"What?" Lloyd snaps.

Silence. You sit back and hug the blanket. Another chill ripples through you. The cold lingers still.

Even so, you feel better. You feel good even. Intrigued by the man in the passenger seat. He's Lloyd's friend even if he won't say so. You know he'll insist he doesn't have friends but you can tell.

You close your eyes and let the motion lull you. You're tired. Very tired. The smell of dirt and smoke clings to you.

Patty asks why you went away without her. Again. You tell her, again, you'll explain later.

It isn't as far as you expect. Or maybe you lose track of time. The engine quiets and you wallow in the stillness. The door opens and Lloyd feels around the folds of the blanket as you open your eyes. He unbuckles the seat belt and gently slides you across the seat. He stops you at the edge.

"You good, sweetheart?" He grips your shoulders to steady you.

You softly pat the front of his jacket. He doesn't need to worry. Not anymore.

He picks you up with the tangle of blankets. As he does, Patty tumbles away from your lap and onto the ground. You watch her plummet on despair.

God appears and scoops her up. He brushes away the snow and sets her in your lap. He tilts his head. He's nice.

Lloyd turns and carries you inside. You wiggle in his arms. You could walk if he let you.

"You need to be in bed under fresh blankets. Nothing else." He says. You pout. He's right, Patty says. You should listen to him.

She's relieved you're back but still upset. You know it. You left her and you weren't going to come back.

Lloyd takes you up to the bedroom. He takes away the smokey blanket and gets you a set of pajamas. They're not any he bought for you. They're his size.

"Get changed and get cozy," he demands tersely. "You know how worried I was?"

He smooths his mustache and sniffs. Tension ticks in his cheeks. You show your teeth and he tuts.

"You're lucky I don't tie you to the bed. The way you scared me shitless." He lectures. You raise your brows and grab the pajama shirt. You show it to him. You're going to do what he wants, okay?

"Got me out there in the cold freezing my balls off too." He clucks. You narrow your eyes. He steps closer and he exhales. He bends down to look you in the face. "It doesn't matter. You're back."

He reaches to rub your arm. You watch his hand. You lean into it then stop. You look down at the shirt and unbutton it.

He backs up and sniffs again. "I gotta deal with company..."

He lingers awkwardly then goes. You focus on switching out the damp and smokey clothes for the fresh satin. Patty sits silently as you do.

You put the clothes to the side then slip under the covers. You grab Patty and hold her close. You stare at the ceiling.

Patty, I'm sorry. There are things that happened before. Things I don't like to remember. And I hurt that man. I killed him. He hurt me and my family but it scared me. I don't feel bad for him. I just never wanted to hurt anyone.

You hurt me. And Lloyd. Patty insists.

I didn't think it would hurt you.

It did.

I know and I'm sorry. Thank you for finding me.

She's quiet again but not like before. She isn't mad. You turn onto your side and hug her. Shivers continue to roll over you but not so intensely as before.

The door opens. You don't check. You know it's Lloyd. He comes into view and stands in front of the tinted pane of glass set into the wall.

"Get this going and get you warm," he messes around with the buttons that blend into the metallic frame. Soft flames appear behind the glass. "Better."

He turns and struts over to the bed. He looks down at you. "You're awake."

You just stare at him. He gathers your old clothes and takes them away. He returns in only an undershirt and briefs.

He sits on the edge of the bed. "You should sleep. It will help."

You keep your eyes on him. You sit up and wave him off before he can stop you. You're not tired.

"Want something to drink? Hot chocolate? God said--"

You put your hand up then point to his lips. His brows furrow on confusion. You're not stupid. He has something else to say.

You make a beak with your hand and open and close it.

"I talk too much? Well, sunshine, I can't change that," he scoffs.

You waggle your finger. He squints then lets out a heavy sigh. He searches your face.

"Rocco?" He asks. You drop your hand and stare.

He pushes his lips out and thinks. He nods then pokes his tongue into his cheek. He clicks before he starts.

"Look, I want my fucking money, but that was never the only thing. This shit is about pride. Reputation. If people think they can rip me off, well, that don't work for me. It doesn't just mean I don't get fucking paid, it's a big bullseye right on my taint." He snarls.

"You know what I am, baby. I probably done things as bad as the people that had you. Difference is I don't do it to innocent women. Dealers, black market, dark web shit. No one gets into that shit if they're a goody two shoes. You feel me?"

You tilt your head. You're listening.

"What the fuck ever, you know?" He flutters his fingers. "I gotta go and get what's owed. That's just how it is. I can't let this go. But..." He swallows and fixes his gaze firmly on you. "You don't gotta. I shouldn't have... Well, you know I'm a fucking idiot. It's your choice, sunshine. You gotta decide that for you. Now I'm thinking, I don't want you out there. You don't needa be doing all that."

You lower your eyes. He's going in one way or the other. He's stubborn like that. You're not sure if you can make yourself do that. If you can face those memories again.

You reach out for his hand. He winces as you touch him. You pull his hand into your lap next to Patty. You tap the watch still on his wrist. He hums.

"You want time to think?" He asks.

You look at him. He nods.

"Well, baby face, you got all the time you need. Just don't be sneaking off again," he chides.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silence is Golden 24

Warnings: This will include dark elements. Please do not read if these elements or any dark elements make you uncomfortable.

Character: Lloyd Hansen, smol, mute! reader

Summary: you’re put in the custody of a strange man with questionable motives and an even more questionable mustache.

Please reblog if you enjoy and leave some feedback! Muah 💋

The man’s footsteps keep a tempo beneath the steady wail of winds. His head is down as he carries you between the trees. The sky dims above as the barren trees creak against the gusting swirls of snow.

Suddenly, it stops. The wind doesn’t blow over you or whip at your face. The man sits you against a wall and backs away. Your vision is hazy from the rising gloom. You can make out the skeleton of the structure. Two walls are open, covered only by shredded and faded sheets of canvas. The pattern makes you think of hunters.

He puts down the rucksack and a bigger bag next to it. He checks the jacket around you. He takes off his glove and touches your face. His hand is so hot.

He stands as he slips his hand back into his glove, takes something from his bag,  and pushes through one of the sheets. His boots tread across the crunchy ground and fade into nothing. You shiver and lean your head back against the dingy wood.

Your eyes roll as you feel yourself sinking into unconsciousness. You’re kept from the depths as the man returns. He puts down the armful of split logs and goes back through the sheet.

He returns again and again and again. He uses rock to mark a border then stacks several logs within. He goes to fetch twigs and smaller branches. You watch, dazed and drawn by the fervent activity.

He lights the fire on the first try, blowing and fanning it until it licks at the bark. The smell is comforting. It stirs memories you push back down.

He slides the hatches back through the straps along the side of his bag. He unrolls the blanket attached to the top and drapes it over you. Your eyes meet.

He grabs the rucksack. He takes out the trail mix and puts it in a divet of the blanket. He sits beside you and claims one of the protein bars.

You shiver. He reaches in his pocket. He takes out a phone as he chews, resting the bar on his leg. He removes his gloves and quickly keys in. You see numbers but nothing else. He puts the phone away.

He finishes the bar. He looks at you. You haven’t moved. He picks up the packet of nuts and raisins and shakes it. You just stare.

He touches your face again. He rubs your cheeks then your neck. He methodically works down your body. You feel it, vaguely. He rearranges the blanket around you and moves you closer to the fire.

He unhook a metal cup from his pack. He pours something into it and holds it over the fire. He brings it to you and tips it against your lips. He gives you no choice but to drink. You swallow down chocolatey substance.

He goes to one side of the hut and pulls back the sheet. He looks up at the moon. He glances back at you, then steps out.

You stare after him. Your head swirls and slowly, you slump down. Your shoulder hits the dusty floor and your eyes close. Your nice and warm and ready.

🙊

“Oh god!” The exclamation draws you up from the brewing tides. Your eyes roll against the lids. 

“What?” Another voice grits.

“Jesus fuck. Not you. It’s… it’s what people say. Why the fuck would you call yourself that anyway?” The first man snarls. Your eyes open as you recognise the voice. “Shit!”

There’s a thump as Lloyd drops to one knee beside you. He touches your arm, rubbing through the blanket as you lay facing the fire.

“I didn’t choose the name,” the stranger counters as he steps up across the flames.

“Doesn’t fucking matter,” Lloyd huffs and hunches over you as he pets your face. “Sweetheart, can you hear me? Hey!” He rubs your cheek with his thumb as your eyes open completely. “You see me. You’re awake.” He takes your head in both hands. “Sunshine, I’m here. I found you.”

The other man clears his throat.

“I had help,” he snorts and slides a hand down your back. He sits and pulls your shoulders over his lap, cradling you. “Why… where–” Lloyd, for once, is at a loss for words. “Why the fuck would you do that to me, baby face?”

He wraps his arm around you and pushes your head against his chest. “Shit. You fucking scared me. You fucking know that?”

He holds you so you can hear his heartbeat. You let him. You don’t have the strength to resist. You’re alive and he’s not going to have it any other way. You don’t know how you want it to be. You’re just too tired to decide.

“Wait,” Lloyd slackens his embrace, keeping you on him. He unzips his jacket and feels around. “Got it.”

He pulls out Patty and puts her against your stomach. You twitch. Slowly you move your arm around her. She was worried and scared. You’re sorry for that.

You spread your hand over Lloyd’s as you keep Patty snug  and when he tries to pull away, you push his palm against her fur. You hook your fingers around his gloved ones and hold him there.

He came and found you. Or he tried. It wasn’t just him. He had help and you know he doesn’t ask for that easily. All that for you. You can’t throw that away.

He holds you as the other man sits across the fire. He watches. You can feel the warmth seeping in more and more. Your fingers don’t tingle so much.

Lloyd rocks you and turns his hand to latch onto yours. Despite the wailing winds, you feel safe. You feel calm.

You look up at Lloyd and catch him staring at you. You tilt your head then crane to see over the fire. Lloyd angles you back against him.

“Yeah, I’ll get to him.” He chortles as he pulls you up into his lap, sitting you up against him. He squeezes your hand and lifts it up to his mouth. He pushes his lips against your skin and his mustache tickles you. “You’re warming up, sweetheart. That’s good.”

You stare at your hand, then his lip. That was… you felt it. You felt it a lot. You blink and lean into his shoulder. You feel his heartbeat pick up. Lloyd coughs and runs his thumb over your knuckles.

“This is God. He’s good at tracking.” Lloyd explains. “The snow started. I didn’t wanna fuck around.” He exhales then clucks.

“Hi,” the other man says and nothing else.

Lloyd is quiet for a while. Thinking. You can tell as he hums in his throat before he speaks again.

“She don’t got a name. I just… I don’t know…” he says to God. He sniffs and looks down at you. “You’d laugh, sunshine, wouldn’t you? If you fucking saw me running around like a cat with it’s tail on fire?”

You lower your lashes and rest your head against him again.

“You don’t gotta be sorry.” He says. “I got you back.”

You nestle into him. He got you back? And he wanted to? That thought is warmer than the fire or the blanket. That thought makes you smile. It makes you giggle.

Lloyd winces and you look up. His cheek dimples as his lips slant. His eyes shine in the firelight.

“Huh… that’s music. to my fucking ears, baby face”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silence is Golden 23

Warnings: This will include dark elements. This chapter includes self-harming thoughts. Please do not read if these elements or any dark elements make you uncomfortable.

Character: Lloyd Hansen, smol, mute! reader

Summary: you’re put in the custody of a strange man with questionable motives and an even more questionable mustache.

Please reblog if you enjoy and leave some feedback! Muah 💋

It's nice to be warm. It's nice to lay down. To be behind walls you can see. To be fed. To be held.

The snores behind you keep you awake. You're not disturbed by them. Lloyd dozed off hours ago. You didn't push him away when he slung his arm over you. You didn't want him to know you were awake.

You listen to the rhythm of his breath. He's tired. That's your fault too. He's been doing all these things, for you. You are just work for him.

You touch Patty gently. She's tired too. You pet her a few times then move her up near the pillow.

Carefully, you turn your body and slip out from under Lloyd's arm. He doesn't stir. The bed hardly moves with you. You take Patty and put her against him. She tells you to stop but it's too late.

You wade through the dark, placing your feet carefully. You float through the house like a ghost. You don't need much. Just some warmer clothes and maybe a bit of food.

You tie on your boots and take a pair of large gloves. They're too big for your hands but that doesn't matter. You tuck them in your jacket pocket.

You disarm the alarm first. You watched Lloyd do it so many times as he took you out to practice with the gun. Then you key in the code for the front door.

Once you're past the gate, the air in your chest flows easier. You put the gloves on and pull up your hood. It's cold and the ground is crisp with frost. You can smell winter.

You follow the road. You have no destination, just anywhere but here. As far as you can go. Somewhere where you won't be a bother. Where you can't cause any harm.

Patty said you should be mad at Lloyd. That you shouldn't worry about him like that. She's wrong. And she would get hurt too.

Lloyd can be mean, he can be selfish, but you can't hurt another person. You can't be the reason they die. Not again. And he just wouldn't accept that no matter how much he made you hit that bag or pull the trigger, you'd still be a liability.

The biggest favour you could do anyone is go away. If you hadn't left that man home, your father and Amir might have had a chance. Even Rocco was cursed with you. For whatever reason, he kept you alive but seemed annoyed that you were still around. So he passed you on so you could be someone else's problem. Lloyd doesn't want you around, he just needs someone who can hold a gun.

You'll keep going until you can't. You don't expect to find much out there. You're not looking for anything. You just want to be alone. You don't want to be the reason anyone gets hurt but yourself.

🙊

The first flake is hypnotizing. Your chest is all fluttery as you watch the descent of snow. It's beautiful as it floats down and gathers in a shimmering carpet.

You like snow. You know that. Your father didn't...

You don't want to think about that. Not about him. Or how Amir would put icicles down your cost.

You don't want to think. You don't want to do a lot of things. So much so, that you don't think there's anything you do want.

You can see the city from here. The buildings cutting into the grey sky. You stare at them. Too many people there.

You head in the opposite direction, toward the trees on the other side of the double lane highway. The morning's followed you out but can't break through the clouds. You tuck you chin down and trod over the lumpy ground.

The last few leaves drift down as the snow knocks them from their bearers. Your breath puffs on clouds and your cheeks tingle. The tip of your nose feels hot and cold at once.

You stop and unwrap a protein bar. It's your least favourite; almond. You eat anyway. You put the wrapped in your pocket.

You swing the small rucksack around to look inside. More bars, a bottle of water, some nuts. You lift the strap over your head as your stomach churns. You set the bag down behind a sharp rock. You don't need that stuff. You don't want it.

You keep walking. You zig zag through the thickening trees. It's like a fairytale. Maybe the one with the kids lost in the woods that find the witch's house or the girl in her red cape running from the big bad wolf. The real stories, not the ones written for movies, they don't have happy endings.

You keep walking as the trees loom over you. The sky darkens. Your toes go numb. Your leg muscles burn from the cold.

You stop as you trip over a root. You can't see one step ahead of yourself. You hear rustling, you hear creatures, maybe a big bad wolf.

You sift through the dark and find a tree. You slide down and sit at the base. You fold your knees to your chest and hug them. You lay your head down.

This is a nice place to rest. The air is fresh here. The ground is softened with the snow. You close your eyes. You don't want to go on.

🙊

The sky softens to a hazy grey blue. Your teeth chatter as your joints ache. Your clothing is damp from the steady drift of snow. You shiver as you keep your arms across your chest, your leg hooked over the other.

The talk oak keeps watch over you. He will guard you until you're gone. You look up at the branches. Spindly and barren.

Someone said, you don't know who, that once you fall asleep, it's easy. That's the problem. You can't sleep.

Your ears hurt. Your teeth too. You've never been this cold.

You hate waiting. You push the hood down to expose your head to the wind. Then you peel off your gloves and toss them away.

Next you unzip the jacket but can't lift yourself to get it off. You untie your boots and kick them away. When you're ready, that same someone said you get all warm.

You close your eyes again. Your feet and hands throb. Cold, cold, cold. That's all you can think of.

You stay like that, listening to the gales whistling around you and the tree. You let the world blow around you and through you.

You wince as something touches your chin. You try to flick it away instinctively. It frames your chin. A hand.

Your eyes snap open and find another pair. The man is silent as he touches your face, pressing his knuckles to your forehead. His cheekbones are defined and he has a cleft in his chin. His complexion is kissed by the temperature.

He unzips his jacket and you shake your head. You can't lift your arms to make him stop. He puts the cost around you. It smells like his sweat.

He covers your feet next. Your head lolls in defeat. Why can't this world just let you go?

Maybe you don't deserve that. You don't deserve to see your father and brother again. You have to live and remember what you did.

The man picks you up. Still not a word. He marches between the trees. You notice the strap on his shoulder. He has your rucksack.

You must not have made it very far.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silence is Golden 22

Warnings: This will include dark elements. Please do not read if these elements or any dark elements make you uncomfortable.

Character: Lloyd Hansen, smol, mute! reader

Summary: you’re put in the custody of a strange man with questionable motives and an even more questionable mustache.

Please reblog if you enjoy and leave some feedback! Muah 💋

Lloyd puts Patty in front of you. You put your hand on her back foot and close your eyes. Your head is as hazy as the steamy bath was.

A soft ripple rolls over you as he pulls the duvet across you. There's no comfort in the downy coverlet, only another weight hanging off you. You want desperately to hide but your eyelids paint a canvas for tinted visions.

You stop in front of the basket of vine tomatoes and flip open the weekly flyer. Items are circled in red Sharpie, fusing you through the shopping trip. Slanted capitals make note of quantity. Four tomatoes, medium to large.

You place them in a paper bag and fold the top. You set them in the basket of the cart and search out the fresh oregano on special. You keep a deliberate path, weaving through the aisles of colourful produce.

As you push through to the bakery, the cart collides with an unexpected obstacle. You look up at the man as he claims a loaf of sourdough, though it seems a thoughtless act. He glances over at you and his forehead creases. Tall, dark curls, deep line in his cheeks and catered scarring.

"Scuse me, miss." His voice is like a spade scraping through gravel.

You stare at him in indecision. Do you go around? Do you wait?

The latter is your choice as you can't move. The man looks at the bread and turns it in his hands, almost as if he's never seen a loaf before. He glances up at you.

"Any suggestions?" He asks. "Wife says she wanted bread... Didn't say what kind."

You hesitate. You try to imagine this man with a wife. Something about him makes that difficult to envision.

You look down at the flyer; you need black rye. The kind with molasses. Your dad likes it best.

"Thats good." You point to the sourdough. "They have baguettes on special." You peek at the flyer.

He sniffs and the paper crinkles around the bread as he puts it back. "Mind if I borrow that for a second? Didn't see none at the door."

You don't want to be rude. You hand over the paper. He takes it and narrows his eyes as he flips through.

"Organized...." He comments as his wife thumb brushes the red sharpie. You squirm.

"Yeah, uh... I have to get home." You say and reach for the flyer.

He holds onto it for a moment as he considers you. "Husband? Must be impatient for a nice cooked meal from a doll like you."

You would laugh if he didn't make your insides curdle. You close your fingers around the edge of the paper. He lets it go. It nearly scatters as you catch it frantically.

"K, then. Have a good one, dolly." He tucks his hands into his pockets and spins on his heel. He goes without a loaf of bread as he whistles down the next aisle.

You open your eyes as a familiar smell tickles your nose. Black tea. You look over as Lloyd blows over the top of the porcelain cup. His eyes snag on yours.

"I heard tea is... Calming." He says. "I'm not a fan but... Here ya go."

You push away the duvet and sit up. You hook your finger under his and he carefully hands over the cup. You use your other hand to steady it by the brim. You dip your chin gratefully.

"Wasn't sure if you were sleeping but-- Woah, careful, don't burn yourself." He warns.

You stop and blow over the tea like he did. His lips slant. He sniffs.

"Look. We don't gotta talk about it in detail. Just want you to know it's wiped. No one will ever know." Lloyd assures. "Not even good ole Roccy."

You wince and look at him. How does he know who that man is? He exhales and shrugs.

"Baby face, I got a line on every rat-face fuck sucking at his fat tears," he scoffs. "We both know you did the right thing. And that's all we need to say, huh?"

You lower your head and sip the tea. You're not sure you've ever done anything right.

"Where is the balsamic?" Your father searches the basket of groceries.

"Father, I... I thought... I must have forgot. Let me check the receipt." You search your pockets.

"Hm. You have change? I gave you the exact amount."

"Yes."

"Keep it. Go back tomorrow. We don't need it today." He assures you. "I will show you how to make hummus instead."

"But I've made hummus before."

"Yes, but this is the family recipe. From my great grandmother." He counters.

You start with chick peas as your father guides you through the spices then some lemon juice and zest. As he perches on his stool, you follow his direction. It's far too much on his knees for him to be running in and out of the pantry.

"See, you must use the mortar and pestle to get the old world touch," he laughs proudly. "And you will tell me it is the best you've ever had. And it is."

As you finish mixing it all up, he guides you to drizzle olive oil over the top and some parsley. You nearly dump a whole clump onto it as a knock comes at the door. Silence sinks in the air.

You hear a click. "Father? Should I answer the door?" Amir asks. "Father, are you here?"

Your father pushes himself up with the counter. He limps past you. You turn and follow him. Amir stands in his bedroom door. You dad girds him with an open palm.

"In with your brother," your father commands.

You look at Amir then scurry over to him. He backs into his room and shuts the door. You share a quizzical look.

Your father clears his throat and raises his voice. "We do not take solicitors. Kindly pass by."

Another knock answers his dismissal. Your father sighs.

"Please, pass by. We are not accepting visitors." He speaks sternly; sterner than you've ever heard.

There's a loud thump, then a crack. Your father grunts. Another cracks and something hits the floor. You press yourself to the door but Amir stops you from opening it. He traps you against the door and hushes you.

"You are an old man, Mo." The scraping voice stills your blood. You know it. You whimper and push against Amir. It is the man from the grocery.

'Never talk to strangers.' How many times did your father bid you? How many times did you obey? Only once did you forget...

Once is more than enough.

You point to the window. Lloyd follows your finger. "Outside?" He asks.

You stand up. He does too. He doesn't stop you, only follows you.

You go downstairs and around to the back door. You emerge into the evening light. The shadows give an eerie feel to the yard.

"You forgot someone," Lloyd catches up to on the bottom step of the deck. He holds Patty out. You take her and stride forward.

You walk along the rose bushes, barren with the creep of winter's chill. You're cold but you don't shiver. You stop and touch a brittle thorn.

I'll only get you hurt, you pet Patty. You know. That's what I do.

She's quiet. She has been. You stare into the tangle of branches.

Your father loved his garden. It was small but vibrant. He loved to sit there and tell you about all the different stems and stamen. He loves you too but like the rose bush, you only stuck him with your thorns.

You hang your head. You remember what you learned. You remember what you are. You won't ever let yourself forget.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silence is Golden 21

Warnings: This will include dark elements. This chapter has mentions of blood and violence. Please do not read if these elements or any dark elements make you uncomfortable.

Character: Lloyd Hansen, smol, mute! reader

Summary: you’re put in the custody of a strange man with questionable motives and an even more questionable mustache.

Please reblog if you enjoy and leave some feedback! Muah 💋

The click of the buckle makes your ears throb. Everything is so loud and bright. You blink as you tried to ward the world off.

You grab at the belt across your chest and a hand covers yours.

"Hey. Leave it. We gotta go." Lloyd's voice grates in your ears but you can't see him. You can only see the blood on your hands and clothes.

"Shit!" The car shifts and a door slams. The motor flips and hums. Something drones. "Hey, hey, I need a cleanup." Something taps. "Coordinates sent. Place is empty, I pulled the alarm... Locked the door. Should hold..." He pauses and you feel a squeeze on your arm. "Sweetheart, breathe." He puts his large hand on your chest and rubs. "Stop holding it."

You exhale as pins and needles speckle over you. Your head lolls and your body slowly slides until the door stops you. He keeps his hand on your side.

"You did good. Alright? You're okay." He pays your leg. "Right?"

You slump, paralysed, as the world rushes by. You can smell blood, you feel it on your skin. Each time you breathe, you feel that man's life draining from his body. Your hand thrums with each furious plunge of the knife.

He deserved it...

The car stops suddenly. The engine quiets and movement stirs all around you. You stare at the blood in the creases of your knuckles, caked into your nail beds. As the door opens, the tension against your chest releases. You fall only to be caught in a pair of arms.

You sway through existence until it all still again. Something warm grazes your cheek, caressing until your eyes come into focus. Lloyd cradles your head as he sits on the edge of the bed and you lay across it. He rubs his thumb along your jaw.

"Hey, sunshine, you hear me?" He coaxes. "That's it. Hey, you're safe. Alright?"

You blink. You don't believe him. He drags his hand down your neck.

"I'm gonna get you cleaned up, okay? Nose looks pretty gnarly." He touches your shirt and you wince. You shove his hand away. "Sweetheart, please, I'm helping here."

You swat him with your other hand then push on his chest with both. He sighs and draws away. He stands and the bed bounces slightly with the sudden change in weight.

He stares at you. You lift your hands and examine the reddened lines of your palms. You're shaking.

He exhales and stomps away. You stay like that. You can't stop looking at the blood. You rub your thumbs against your palms so it flakes away but the taint remains.

"Baby face," Lloyd startles you as he returns. He puts something in front of your hands. It's soft. You push your fingers into the fur as your eyes take in Patty's beaded ones. You hug her to you.

You roll onto your side and squeeze. Patty, I've done something bad. Something horrible, but I had to. He deserved it.

Yes, he did.

I know but... does that mean Amir deserved it too? Can anyone deserve it?

Be good, Patty girds. You did the right thing.

"You... you gotta let me clean you up," Lloyd grips your arm lightly. "Please."

Please... he's never used that word. Not with you.

You roll onto your back and look up at him. He cautiously reaches for you. He makes you sit up and pushes on your jacket. You let him take it off as Patty sits in your lap. Then he unbuttons your shirt. You shiver but don't stop. Not even as the air kisses all your scars.

You hunch and hang your head. He's delicate as he strips away the bloodied clothes. There's red spatter down to your toes. His fingertips linger and drag as he eases you out of the layers.

He takes it all away; your pants, your socks, your shoes. He bundles it all up in a plastic bag.

"Got a friend. He'll deal with the rest." He says.

You bring Patty to your stomach. The last time anyone saw you like this... you spasm at the memory of ice cold water scouring you. You fold in half around the fuzzy plush.

"I'm just gonna get you in the tub," Lloyd says as the plastic rustles. "Alright?"

He hesitates before he leaves. A moment later, the thrum of water rushes through the pipes. You tremble and rock Patty.

I know, it's a lot of blood. It's his. You wouldn't believe how much there was.

Lloyd comes back. He bends over you and slides his arms beneath you. He lifts you and turns with you slowly. You can feel his muscles straining but not too much. He's strong enough.

He takes you into the bathroom and angles you down into the large basin of the tub. The warm water laps around your soles and bottom. He leans you against the cool porcelain. Your skin bristles with goosebumps.

His hands brush down your body. They add to the warmth brewing from the water. You bask in that sensation.

He backs away again. You put Patty on the ledge to keep her from getting wet. As Lloyd returns, you flinch at his reach. He frames your face with one hand and feels along your nose with his thumb.

"Not broken. Swollen and a bit bruised." He declares. Your eyes zero in on his. He looks back intently. "Concussed, I think."

He goes to draw away and you catch his wrist. He stops and his throat tightens. His hand is warm. You slip your grasp up and pull his hand to your cheek. You cling to him and shiver.

You can't remember the last time you were touched so gently? The last time you knew anything but malice. You just want a bit of tenderness.

He eases and presses his palm to your cheek. His fingertips rub your temple as his other hand comes up to pet your hair.

"Whatever you need, sunshine." He stays bent over the side of the tub. "You just let me know. However you can."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silence is Golden 18

Warnings: This will include dark elements. Please do not read if these elements or any dark elements make you uncomfortable.

Character: Lloyd Hansen, smol, mute! reader

Summary: you’re put in the custody of a strange man with questionable motives and an even more questionable mustache.

Please reblog if you enjoy and leave some feedback! Muah 💋

“Again,” Lloyd demands.

You hesitate but hurl your fist forward into the punching bag. The impact isn’t as hard as you expect. He tuts as he stands with hands on his hips. His looming presence makes you sweat more than the activity.

“Come on, sunshine, I know you got more than that.”

You drop your fist and push your shoulders up. You’ve been trying all day. He’s not happy with any of it. He keeps saying more, more, more.

“Alright, day one. Can’t push you too hard.” He sniffs and exhales heavily. His disappointment is potent.

“Tomorrow, we’ll focus on conditioning. Give your arms a break. Treadmill.” He grabs the empty shake cups and his sweat towel. You lift Patty. She’s tired. So are you.

You follow Lloyd out of the gym. You stare at his heels. He might not see how hard you tried but maybe you aren’t.

“Get some water before you disappear. You gotta understand. This is a big deal. You need to hydrate and you need to eat.” He leads you into the kitchen. “That’s how you get strong.”

Right. You aren’t strong.

He puts the cups in the sink and pops open a cupboard. He hands you a tall glass. You take it and fill it from the fridge.

“Look, we just started. I get it. I’ll try not to expect too much.” He says. “But try to give me something.”

You keep your arm hooked around Patty and give a thumbs up. He stares at it. You’re not sure that’s enough. He turns away.

“Alright.” He utters and grabs a glass for himself.

You back up until you’re at the door. You leave him and squeeze Patty. You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re not sure you can do this. She says you can if you really want to.

Well, that’s the big question; what do you want? You haven’t thought about things like that in so long. You lived in certainties. You wouldn’t get what you want or need. You would never get out. But look at you now. No longer in the dark, maybe one day, you won’t be afraid either.

🙊

You’re trying. You do what Lloyd says you should. You drink water. You eat all your food, even when it hurts your stomach, you do your stretches, and you stick to the schedule.

You don’t try to track the days. Time stopped meaning anything back in the darkness. Still, Lloyd maintains a sense of urgency. There is no due date yet he wants it done. That much you can pick up.

Another day at the bag. Those are your least favourite. Even worse than pullups. You punch the bag over and over. You move your feet like he showed you, you swing out the combos. Left, left, right. Right, right, left. The noise of your fists on the bag keep a tempo.

Lloyd sighs as he watches.

“Sweetheart. Put some sauce on it.” He drawls.

You look over and your next punch is off. You huff and reset your feet. You try again. He clucks and catches your arm and wrenches you away.

He swings you back to face him. He lets you go. “You’re not getting it. You gotta get angry. You gotta use that. You’re not going to be punching this bag forever.”

You keep your hands up. That’s his rule. Hands up.

“Listen, alright, let me–”

He swings  at you. You deflect him and keep your arms in a defensive pose. He brings up his other fist and you stop it with your forearm. He huffs again.

“Get mad, okay? Hit me back.” He keeps his fists up. “Go on.”

You stare at him. You steel yourself and throw your hand out. He knocks it away easily and makes a buzzer noise with his mouth.

“Sweetie, if I wanted, I’d have you on your back. Don’t just sit there and pretend. Put something into it.” He keeps his stance. “Come. On.”

You stare at him desperately. You don’t want to hurt him though. The bag can’t feel. That’s easy.

“Alright, you gotta get in the zone. Think about it. Think about the scars.” He swats your arm tauntingly and you shy away. “Think about Rocco and his shit rats. What they did to you.”

He gets closer, giving weak punches you can swat to the side. You walk back as he advances on you. “They left those marks on you, they took your voice.”

He tries to hit you with each statement. “Hell, they gave you to me in exchange for a few dead goons.” He tries again and you dodge. “They made you nothing–”

It’s like he’s actually hit you. You drop your hands and stare at him. He watches you. His expression slowly shifts from mocking to concern. You quake and lift your hands. You make fists.

You can’t do it. You can’t hit him. You turn to the bag. You wail on it unfettered. You don’t think, you just let the frustration and fury out. Your fists don’t stop.

“That’s it, baby,” Lloyd claps, “get the fucker.”

He walks a circle around you. You keep going. You don’t feel the force behind the punches or the recoil of the bag, you feel nothing but helplessness. Like you’re back in the dark by yourself, waiting for the end.

“That’s good, you’re doing good,” he encourages.

Punch, punch, punch-punch.

“Alright, slow down, you don’t gotta do all that.” He girds.

You ignore him. You think of what he said. Of what they took from you. And it isn’t Rocco’s men you hear in your head. It’s the ones they took from you.

Don’t give up. Not again. You did once. And it’s all your fault. You’re here, they’re not. Don’t waste that.

“Sweetheart–”

Lloyd grabs your elbow and you shove him off. He’s too strong. You wriggle free and move away from him. You keep going.

He exhales. “You’re gonna hurt yourself. Come on, take a breather.”

You don’t stop.

You sense him walking around you but he’s not really there. Neither are you. You can do this. You have to do this. Patty agrees. Stop being weak.

The tempo of your fists continues. It slows but doesn’t stop. You move your feet, shuffle, dodge, dip, just like Lloyd had you do every time. Until all you can do is keep your arms moving.

“Hey…” Lloyd’s soft voice wafts between the cracks of knuckles on leather. “Sunshine. Sunshine, you there?” He grabs your shoulder. “You’re barely standing. Come on.”

You throw another punch. Your arm shakes and burns. He catches your hand and guides it away from the bag. He turns you away. Your muscles burn. 

“It’s been hours,” he hisses. “Stop.”

He holds onto your hands. You’re entire body quakes. He looks down. The hand wraps have moved to expose your knuckles. They’re split and swollen.

“Jeez, sweetheart,” he touches the cuts lightly with his thumbs. “You know–”

You rip your hands away. Those things he said echo in your head. He has no idea what happened. He doesn’t know anything about Rocco. Not really. He made a bad deal and you…

You shake your head and stomp away from him. You pick up Patty. She knows. She’s the only person you can tell. You wince as you press her to your sweat-soaked shirt.

“Sweetheart, look, I didn’t mean–”

You don’t listen to Lloyd. He’s just the same as Rocco and his men. He just wants what you can give to him. Well, you’re not going to do this for him.