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Summary: The most dangerous man you know has one undeniable weakness: you.
Words: 1,124
Status: Complete
A/N: This one is for @sultry-rachael since you put Lloyd in my brain. Enjoy, lovelies. Your author lives on feedback. All errors are mine.
Warnings: Lloyd Hansen x fem!Reader; Graphic Violence; slight fluff
Disclaimer: I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended. This is not written for profit.
The small room was bare except for a single chair. A blindfolded, gagged man sat tied to it while Lloyd paced lazily around him. He sighed. Torture was so tedious. Unfortunately, sometimes it had to be done.
He stopped behind the chair and ripped the blindfold away. "Hi there."
The man blinked rapidly against the harsh light.
"We're going to have a little chat." Lloyd crouched in front of him, resting his forearms on his knees as though they were about to have a perfectly civilized conversation.
"I ask questions," he smiled pleasantly. "You answer them. Honestly." He stood again with another sigh.
"If you don't…" He reached over to the nearby table, picked up a pair of pliers, and gave them a thoughtful glance before looking back at the prisoner. "…there will be consequences." He twirled them once between his fingers. "Do we understand each other?"
The man made a muffled sound behind the gag.
"I'll take that as a yes." Lloyd pulled the gag free.
"Now then…" He folded his hands behind his back. "Where's the device?"
"I—I don't know what you're talking about."
Lloyd pinched the bridge of his nose. "I did warn you." He sounded almost disappointed. "You've really brought this on yourself."
He reached for another instrument and used it to force the man's mouth open. "Now… breathe through your nose."
The pliers disappeared into the prisoner's mouth. A moment later, Lloyd gave a sharp tug. The man's scream echoed off the concrete walls.
Lloyd casually tossed the tooth onto the table. "Now," he said, as though nothing unusual had happened, "let's try that again."
His phone rang. He froze for only a fraction of a second. That ringtone. At two in the morning, it could only be one person. Holding up a finger toward the prisoner as though asking him to wait a moment, Lloyd answered.
You did not even say hello. "My car won't start."
Without hesitation, he replied, "Send me your location." The call ended.
Lloyd slipped the phone back into his pocket and drew a slow breath before glancing at the man still groaning in the chair.
"Sorry," he said almost conversationally. "Someone more important needs me." He replaced the gag and turned toward the door.
One of his men looked up as Lloyd stepped into the hallway. "Already?"
Lloyd rolled his eyes. "No." He jerked his thumb toward the interrogation room. "I just have somewhere else to be." He paused for a moment, considering. "Turn the heat up in there."
The other man frowned.
Lloyd smirked. "Let him sweat."
Without another word, he was already walking down the hallway, keys in hand, punching your location into his phone as he headed for the parking garage.
You pushed your hand through your hair for what had to be the hundredth time that night. You felt ridiculous. You had gone out with your friends and volunteered to be the designated driver, and after making sure everyone got home safely, your reward had been a dead car on the side of the road.
At least Lloyd was on his way. You knew exactly what people said about him. You had heard every story. None of them scared you.
Twenty minutes after your call, familiar headlights pulled in behind your car. Lloyd stepped out, his eyes finding you first before drifting to the open hood. "What's wrong, sugar?"
You shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. It just… won't even turn over."
The hood was already raised, so Lloyd walked straight to the engine bay. He looked things over for a moment, pressing here, checking there, before glancing back at you. "Try it one more time."
You climbed into the driver's seat with an exasperated huff and turned the key. The dashboard lit up. Click. Nothing else.
Lloyd nodded once. "Starter's fried." Simple as that.
He closed the hood before walking around to your door and offering you his hand. "Come on."
You looked up at him.
"I'll get you home. Tomorrow I'll replace the starter and bring your car back."
You slipped your hand into his. "Thank you."
He helped you out before locking your car and leading you to his. Moments later he was behind the wheel, pulling away from the curb as though he'd already driven this route a hundred times.
Which, considering how often he had taken you home, he probably had. "Why're you out this late, sugar?"
Leaning back in your seat, you pulled out your phone. "I was out with friends. Just dropped the last one off." You fired off a quick text. "I'm letting her know where the car is so she can keep an eye on it."
You tucked your phone away and glanced over at Lloyd. Even at two in the morning, he looked exactly as he always did. Perfectly put together. Completely in control. Somehow that ridiculous mustache still worked.
Lloyd caught you looking and chuckled softly. "You know…" His eyes stayed on the road. "You're the only person who could call me this late and I'd answer."
You frowned. "Why?"
He hummed thoughtfully. "Simple." A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Because everybody else is everybody else."
Your heart melted. Without another thought, you unbuckled your seat belt and carefully climbed into his lap, turning sideways so your back rested against the driver door.
Lloyd did not so much as flinch. One hand remained steady on the steering wheel while the other settled comfortably on your thigh just beneath the hem of your skirt. Like you had done this before. Like he trusted you completely.
You tucked your face against his neck and breathed him in. "I like how you are with me."
His thumb stroked your leg once. A slow smile spread across his face. "That's because you've earned it."
You smiled into his neck and stayed there the rest of the drive home. When he pulled into your driveway, Lloyd walked you all the way to your front door.
Before you could reach for the knob, he caught your chin gently between his fingers and kissed you. It was slow. Unhurried. Far softer than anyone who knew Lloyd Hansen would ever believe.
When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours for just a second. "Get some sleep, sugar."
You nodded.
"I've got work to finish, but I'll see you tomorrow when I bring your car back."
You wrapped your arms around him in one last hug. "Thank you. See you tomorrow."
He waited until you were safely inside before heading back to his car. Sliding behind the wheel, Lloyd let out a quiet sigh and shook his head.
"Woman makes me soft." He smirked to himself as he started the engine. "Fuck."
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A ticket for the President’s Box at Ebbets Field for Game 5 of the World Series on October 2, 1955. Dodger President Walter O’Malley hosted family and guests in the box. The Dodgers defeated the Yankees, 5-3, before an Ebbets Field crowd of 36,796 fans to put them up in the Series, three games to two. Two days later, the Dodgers won their first World Championship.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
🎨; Drew’s invite was one I definitely didn’t want to turn down, but being Bestfriend’s also meant you didn’t bail on your best friend when she’s sick for a hot guy.