→ When you need me, I'll be there
𖥻synopsis: You were just trying to follow your routine; to go to work. But this particular night proved to be far more complicated than your previous ones from the moment you step outside your apartment. Luckily, Lane is there, to save both you and your night.
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warnings: swearing; sexual jokes; harassment (not lane); suggestive content (but not nfsw)
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𖥻before you read: this is a lane x reader; if you don't like this content, pls skip; 2nd person pov; around 3.7k words; pls excuse any grammar or orthographic mistakes (i'm dyslexic and english is not my first language)
If only you had taken the bus…
Realizing you had forgotten your umbrella halfway through the walk to the store should've been the first sign you were supposed to take the bus when you saw how dark and cloudy the sky was getting.
You should've taken it, but you didn't. And now you're stuck with only one option, which is to pray that you arrive at Mad Dog’s in time. And also praying Lane's actually on time today, because if not, you don't know what you'll do.
The footsteps that have been echoing from behind you for a while now, seem to be closer by the second.
For now, the rain has subsided, and thank fuck, because between the tears and the water falling from above, you'd probably be unable to see anything at all by now.
All those awful and disgusting things he had said to you, trying to mask them as a sense of protection, repeating over and over that he only wanted to accompany you, for your own safety.
You thought you had played your cards right. You stayed silent for a bit, then you tried to be as polite as possible, and when that didn't work you finally said you had a boyfriend - which was a lie, but you sounded convincing enough - and that should've done it; men only respect other men at the end of the day.
Still, that wasn't enough to actually get rid of him, so now your last option was that, when the creep saw Lane, he'd finally give up.
That's when you saw it - your salvation - the store entrance.
You didn't even bother trying to go through the "staff only" door in the back.
Your rib cage was aching at this point, from how fast and violently your terrified heart was pounding against it.
"Please be here, please be here, please…” You muttered to yourself, finally passing through the door.
The same doors that reopened not even ten seconds later - it's him. You knew that, but still pushed that thought to the far back of your mind, when your eyes locked on Lane's figure - that was, for the first time, actually outside the stockroom - leaning on the counter.
When he was finally aware of your presence, any remainder of relaxation on his face was whipped as soon as he saw how frightened you looked.
You quickened your step, finally reaching Lane.
As soon as your hand grabbed his arm, he was able to feel how much you were trembling.
But you didn't have time to explain right now, that's why you simply pulled him closer to your face, and whispered softly.
"Please, lie with me.”
He looked at you, extremely confused, as you shifted slightly so you were standing behind him.
However, as soon as Lane heard the sound of footsteps and saw the hooded figure to whom they belonged, the situation seemed to have turned crystal clear in his head.
But you didn't let him start anything. You didn't want an argument to erupt; you wanted that man gone.
You watch as the man stops a few feet away from both of you, looking directly at your figure and trying to dismiss Lane's presence, and that's what made you speak.
"Like I said, sir. My boyfriend." You gesture towards Lane. “So thanks, but I don't need your protection, I just need to work.”
The man’s glance shifts to Lane for a moment and goes right back to you, like he was weighing his options.
What kind of options? You don't know.
"Yeah. Boyfriend.” Lane finally speaks, after the growing silence from the man took over. "Same one who's gonna drop her home after the shift, so don't even think about pulling this shit again, man.”
That single sentence appeared to have changed something. The creep cursed something under his breath and looked at you with a dark expression.
"If you ain't gonna buy nothing, leave. You're holding up the line.” There was no line; the only people inside the store were you three.
When you interlaced your arms around Lane's left one, trying to calm yourself down a bit, that seemed to finally do it for the weirdo.
He turned around abruptly, and started walking towards the store.
The silence that followed his departure was heavy. Your gaze went to Lane for a second - he was still looking at the man's fading silhouette.
“Fucking freak.” You hear him mumble under his breath, while still looking ahead, face full of disgust.
You turned a bit to your side and hugged him, while shaking like a leaf. Your body and mind still too scared to move more than that, only looking for a familiar sensation that could help ground your thoughts.
"Hey, what was that about?"
He didn't move; his voice was low and projected carefully, it lacked the usual bite and teasing, like he was genuinely worried.
You exhaled a deep breath.
"...I don't know. I was just walking, and he appeared out of nowhere."
You press your face into his chest a little more, which made the following words leave your mouth a bit muffled.
"Then he started saying these creepy things about night and danger... and talking about my clothes like I was provoking him or something!" Your hands grip his shirt a little tighter, trembling with fear, with anger. "What the hell is wrong with my clothes?!"
"Nothing." Lane said after a beat. "It's fine. You're fine, you're safe."
With that, he saw your face leaving its previous place in the middle of his chest, eyes looking directly at him, with tears that you were fighting to keep from spilling.
Interactions like this weren't new by any means. But there were times when the exhaustion of always having to be careful and try to get on the harasser's good side was too much to keep bearing; it was too much to be able to breathe without being scared.
"Thank you, Lane. If you weren't here, I didn't know what-" your voice fails, and he takes that opportunity to cut you off, gently.
"I was here. I'm still here, you don't have to worry about it anymore."
He watches as one of the tears finally spills, while the rest dry up, followed by a sigh, of what he supposes it's something akin to relief.
"And you don't have to thank me, yeah?" His right hand goes up to your face, fingers brushing a piece of hair off of it, and then settling on your cheek.
You give him a crooked smile, still a bit shaken up but also trying to seem thankful. In that moment you couldn't believe that you felt the safest in the arms of your annoying coworker, in this crummy convenience store.
He smiles back at you. "Yo, you good now?"
"I'm better." you say, and yet you don't make any motion to move, but neither does he. "Can we stay like this a little more?"
"Of course. You're doing me a favor." He grins like a man who just won the lottery. "Didn't know you were this much into hugging me.”
He was back to his usual annoying comments, but you still weren't in your right mind to care enough; so you answered a bit too honestly.
"I like it, it's warm. And it was kinda freezing outside… You feel cozy."
This time, while looking at Lane, your smile was a bit more relaxed and carefree, which caught him off guard, and you noticed the way his eyes widened a little.
The hand that was on your cheek slid to your jaw, while the other one settled between your waist and back; the grip grew a bit stronger, not aggressive, just grounding.
"I can warm you up in a better way.”
"Don't be gross.”
"I'm not. I was talking about hugs and dried clothes.” He shoots back, like he's undoubtedly innocent. "Not my fault your mind is a weird place.”
As much as Lane liked seeing you safe, he liked seeing you smile even more; that's why he tried to lift your spirits with some teasing and stupid jokes.
You shook your head, a faint smile plastered on your lips. Then, your hands reached for his collar, making Lane's head lower in the process, and kissed his cheek when he was at your level.
"Well, thanks anyway, my hero.” Even if it was genuine, you made a point for the last two words to come out sarcastically.
Despite that, Lane froze for a hot minute and then covered all the shock and blush with his signature smirk.
“I always knew you were in love with me. There's no need to get all mushy.”
“God, you really can't appreciate gratefulness quietly.” You roll your eyes, letting go of his collar.
“Why would I, when I can just say something and watch you get all annoyed at me?”
"And what does that earn you?”
"Seeing you like this.” He's still close, but pulls his face back a little, like he's trying to see more of you in a better angle.
"Like what?”
"Mad. And hot.”
The confused frown on your face dissipated after hearing those words.
"You're so weird sometimes.”
There's no malice in your words. You have a lighthearted smile on your face, one that almost makes Lane forget how to breathe, when he realises how close you still are to him.
"And you're always weird, guess that's why we fit so well."
"Who's getting mushy now?”
"It's your fault, you're rubbing it on me.”
"Good, maybe I'll rub a bit of common sense on you too.”
"Ouch. Always so mean to me.” He feigns hurt, taking the hand from your jaw and putting it on top of his heart.
"Thought you were into that?” You teased, smirk widening.
"Totally. So much so that I could suggest another thing you could rub.”
"Don't be gross, again.”
"I would never. I'm just trying to innovate, not that you women would know anything about that."
"Aaaaand you just ruined it.” You sighed, stepping away from Lane.
When you looked at him with an unamused expression, you noticed how he tried to make it seem like the loss of proximity didn't bother him. And, like always, he still tried to come out on top.
“Relax, now that I've saved you, I'll leave you to your independent girl work, with none of my jokes to lift your mood.”
His demeanor didn't faze you at this point. You were starting to see a pattern; every time something hit a little too close to home, he made a joke about it.
"Good cause I'm gonna need to change from these damn clothes and I don't want to feel like there's some evil entity watching me from a corner of the store.”
“Nah, don't worry, that biker’s still not here today.”
“I was talking about you, Lane.” He dismisses it completely, entering the stockroom and closing the door behind him.
The silence settles, finally, and you start to change the damp clothes, that were making your poor body freeze, into something else that you took from the lost and found; the way Lane had explained to you the first time.
When you were finished, you clipped your name tag back in its place and grabbed the sheet of paper RJ had left with the assigned tasks.
Surprisingly, today there wasn't much that needed to be done. That was a relief, given how exhausted the night's earlier interaction had left you.
You roamed the aisles checking the shelves, in case any of them needed restocking, which a couple of them did. You were about to go into the stockroom to grab the necessary boxes, but coincidentally, there were two boxes with some of the items beside the door. You didn't think too much about it, and just occupied yourself with that, leaving the rest for later; it was gonna be a long night, after all.
Your task needed to be interrupted for a while when a sweet old lady needed your help finding some products and checking out after.
But once you finished it, your back was hurting and bothering you enough that you decided to sit and rest for a bit.
It was a slow shift anyway.
You entered the stockroom, heaving a sigh, and spotted Lane sitting, playing on his phone.
You walk up to him, sitting closely beside - quietly, due to how exhausted your body felt - trying to keep the silence.
"Weren't you supposed to be working, woman?”
He breaks it anyway with his loud mouth.
“Weren't you?”
"Mhm, you make a good point.” He admits, turning back to his phone.
"I already did a bunch of things. And since last time you suggested we should mop before closing, that's what we'll be doing today.”
"We?”
"Yeah, you're the big, strong hero, you can help me mop.”
He looks at you again, as if he's considering if trying to help is actually worth the effort.
"And who knows if another scary man is gonna show up, I might need protection.”
The expression on your face was so unserious, you couldn't have paid Lane to pretend to believe you were even a little bit scared.
"You can defend yourself with the mop.”
"That's your job.” You winked at him and watched Lane shake his head, still grinning.
You just chuckle and rest your cheek against his arm, closing your eyes.
Lane eyes you for a moment, a really long one. His blue eyes scan your face, your nose, your lips, your expression. He contemplates whether it's worth touching it for a second, but the sound coming from his phone, announcing his death in the game, brings him back from his thoughts.
"You're still cold as hell.” He mutters, feeling the temperature of your skin through the thin fabric of his white shirt.
"Really? Guess I'm just numb at this point, 'cause I can't tell much difference.”
You remove your cheek from his arm, straightening your posture, looking at him.
"Your face is warm tho.” You comment, putting both hands on his cheeks.
"The fuck are you doing?” He sounds so baffled it's almost comical.
"Relax, I'm kinda helping you, might be able to get rid of your blush this way.”
You were joking, but that's when Lane did something you wouldn't have anticipated by a long shot - you thought he was going to wave you off or make an even worse comment.
But he just averted his gaze and put his hands on top of yours, which were still on his cheeks.
"What- what are you doing?” You sounded so baffled, it made Lane gain the confidence to look at you properly again.
"Trying to actually warm your hands, so it doesn't feel like I'm touching a corpse.”
You looked at him, feigning offense, but didn't move an inch, choosing to wait and see what he planned to do next.
"That's not gonna cut it.” He took your hands and brought them to the sides of his neck; it felt so warm, it actually surprised you.
"How are you so hot?!”
It was a genuine question, but the silence that came after it made you realize how you'd actually word it.
"That's not what I meant.” You try to correct yourself.
"You sure? I think it was exactly what you meant.” He looked way too smug about this. “Your mouth was just faster than your brain about it.”
"Shut up.” You muttered.
And thank fuck there wasn't enough blood flow going through your body, otherwise your face would be beet red with embarrassment.
"Do that yourself, we're already halfway there standing like this.”
He had a point; you were close, too close.
"You want me to shut you up with a kiss?”
"You said it, not me.”
"You just hinted at it!”
He just grins at you, as if your state amuses him.
"You're in no position to provoke me, I could strangle you.” You say, but your tone isn't the least bit of threatening.
"Yeah, with your strong feminist hands.”
"I'll do it!”
"Go ahead, I promise I'll like it.”
Your hands froze in place, and you look at Lane with so much shock plastered over your face, that he laughs, loudly. You feel the sound vibrating in his throat, below your hands.
"Not gonna choke me anymore?”
"Strangle." You correct.
"Saying that only makes it more kinky, babe.”
"You're shameless.” Your hands fall from his warm neck, and settle on the center of his chest.
"And you're cute. Can't blame a guy for trying.”
He takes your left hand on his and rests both on his lap.
“At least you're warmer now.”
“It's from all the anger.”
“Still counts. Now, how about you reward me for not letting you get hypothermia?"
God, how can a person talk this much?! It's like he never runs out of things to say.
Always one more joke, one more provocation, one more something.
“What? Did I render you speechless with that one?”
There it is again. That's stupid grin. God, you wish you could hate him sometimes. I mean, he's lazy, immature, crude, sexist, a jerk, a‐ Fuck. He's pretty. Like, unfairly so. And fuck it if he's not charming; stupid jokes and being nice when he remembers that that's an option. You don't hate him. He can be annoying sometimes and never do his work load, but he keeps you entertained; and when you, absolutely, need him, he always comes.
You're spacing out, and he's still running his mouth - of course.
But you know a way to shut him up - he's the one who asked anyway - it will be like a reward. Not from saving you from hypothermia, but for having your back when the weirdo showed up.
It was the bare minimum, but we're talking about Lane, can't raise the bar too high.
"You gonna keep yapping or gonna close that mouth, so I can kiss you?”
He stops speaking in the same second, as if by reflex.
"See, it wasn't so hard now, was it?” You hear him click his tongue.
"You're actually gonna do it or what?”
Lane still has the usual mocking tone, but if you're going to kiss this loser, he has to at least behave.
"If you actually want it, and if you behave.”
"Of course I want it, I'm a guy.”
"So you're saying that any guy would want to kiss me?”
"I mean, they should, you're pretty.” He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his hand rest there. "But you should only kiss me, I'm the best choice.”
"Of course you'd say that.” You suppress the urge to roll your eyes, and instead inch your face closer to his, smiling faintly when your lips brush his.
"I'm just being honest. Thought you girls appreciated these things.”
"We do, but I would appreciate it even more if you used that mouth for something more productive, like kissing me.”
And you almost regret taking this chance, because when he finally does it, you feel like you just unleashed a mythological monster; he kisses like he's been starved of this for centuries.
You didn't anticipate it to be an overly gentle kiss, but you still tried to keep it sweet and tender, however Lane kisses like he's trying to get inside your skin; not because he's brute, but because the sensation is overwhelming.
It's as if he is trying to make you realize what all of this stupid comments, flirty jokes and not-so-subtle touches, really meant with this kiss.
“Fuck… You're so soft.” His voice comes out raspy and that does something funny to your stomach.
You let out a soft gasp, when you feel his fingers brushing your thigh - realizing just how large his hand actually is, and how much skin it is able to grab.
When that happens, you feel his tongue brush yours, entering your mouth. The kiss feels slower now, but no less intense.
He starts nibbling on your lower lip, not biting, just playing with it, but when you reach your hand to the back of his head, Lane takes the hint and his mouth goes back to devouring yours. From there on, the kiss is all tongue. You tilt your head a little, to get a better angle, and feel Lane deepen the kiss. Your back genly hits the shelf behind you, as drool runs down your chin, from how messy the kiss was being.
After a couple of seconds, you push his chest lightly, panting a bit, trying to restore some air in your lungs. Lane chases after your mouth when you back away, but finally opts for resting his forehead against yours, while you regulate your breathing.
But he's quicker than you. When you're still trying to compose yourself, you feel wet lips graze the side of your neck and a hand resting at the nape. His lips close around the skin, and then he sucks on it.
“Ahhh…Lane.”
It feels nice, but you'll be damned if it leaves a mark. That's why, after a couple of seconds and some more soft kisses and short pecks, he eventually backs off.
His right hand goes back to your cheek, caressing it, while the left one is still laying on your thigh, rubbing small circles.
There's a moment of silence, and as soon as both of you think it's time to resume your kissing activities, the sound of the store's front doors opening can be heard loud and clear echoing all over the place.
You release a defeated sigh, trying to side eye Lane's reaction; he's staring at the stockroom's door like the mere thought of having to leave this place offends his existence.
You chuckle and get up, stretching your back.
“C'mon, it's time to do the job we're barely paid to.”
Lane rolls his eyes, slouching against one of the stands.
“I'll handle the customer, you bring that box so we can finish restocking.”
“ ‘We’, huh?”
“Yes. You're the man, aren't you? Help me with the heavy labor then, babe.”
“Sure, angel. But you might want to pull your collar up a bit before that.”
“Wha… Oh my god, Lane! You gave a hickey?!”
“Three. I'm a hardworking man.”
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a/n: a little something i wrote for Valentine's Day
