dazed

It’s rare to see you be so affected by something, especially at work where your priority is to keep Mad Dogs up and running. Lane tells himself that he doesn’t care that you’re clearly upset. What he cares about is the fact that it’s starting to affect your performance, because that means more work for him. That’s all. 

But if that Biker had something to do with it, then it was obviously his job as a man to take care of it. And - 

Lane stops himself before he can think any further.

 Or, at least, attempts to.

You know you’re acting cracked, but there’s too much whirling around in your mind to care. Every thought seems to crash into the next, leaving you nowhere to put any of it. It’s an accumulation of anxiety, stress, and disappointment in yourself, all piling up until you can barely breathe. 

Everything you feared at eighteen is coming back to haunt you now.  It doesn’t help that your mom keeps blowing up your phone with back-handed messages disguised as sympathy, each one carrying some criticism of its own. Then there’s your ex-boyfriend, who thinks he knows you better than anyone and keeps trying to make you “see reason.” 

As if you need one more person telling you what you’re doing wrong.  

It reaches its boiling point after you’ve grown tired of feeling your phone buzzing in the back of your pocket. With an aggravated groan, you smack the towel onto the counter, sending the bottle of disinfectant to roll on the floor. 

Thankfully, the store is empty.

You march towards the stockroom, pulling out your phone, only to find Lane sitting there with his eyes glued to his own.

“Out.” You say simply. Lane looks up from his phone at the tone of your voice, a smirk already tugging at his lips. You groan, rolling your eyes already expecting him to say something stupid. “Babe, is that how you talk to me-”

“Lane. Out.” You point toward the door, your voice firmer this time. “I feel like we’re in an abusive relation-”

“LANE. OUT. NOW!” You bark the words so sharply that his eyes widen a little. He quickly gets to his feet, hands raised in surrender as he makes his way towards the door. You hear him muttering something about ‘period’ and ‘bitch’ under his breath. Then, just before he disappears, he adds, “Still sexy.”

You hate that it makes your cheeks redden, and it pulls you out of your thoughts for a moment. Unfortunately, another notification from your mom drags you right back to reality.

The moment you answer your mother’s call, all hell lets loose.

“Mom, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.” Her words come so quickly that it leaves a pit in your stomach. Your fingers tighten around the phone. “You have a degree, honey. You worked your whole life for that degree. You moved across the country because you wanted something better for yourself, and now you’re living in a tiny apartment and working overnight at a convenience store.” Your mom rattles through the speaker just as breathless as you are.

“I know where I live and work.” You try to stand up for yourself. “I’m not trying to insult you.” Another response that comes too quickly. “Then what are you trying to do?” There’s a pause on the other end. “I’m trying to understand.” Your throat tightens at that. You cross your arm over your chest unsure whether you’re trying to defend yourself or comfort yourself. “You don’t understand. You can’t understand.”

“No I don’t. And neither does your father! We don’t understand why you seem so determined to convince yourself that this is all you deserve.” The one stings. It hurts a lot more than any insult could have. 

You stare at the floor with tears burning your eyes. Still, you swallow the lump in your throat. “I never said that.”

“You don’t have to say it, sweetie.” Your mother sighs, her tone softening. “Sweetheart, I know things are difficult. I know the economy is terrible. I know finding work in your field isn’t easy. But you have to understand that from where we’re standing, it looks like you’ve given up.” She whispers by the end. 

“I haven’t given up, mom.”

“Then what are you doing?” You open your mouth to angrily retort, but nothing comes out. Because in all honesty, you don’t know. And that makes the confusion, hurt, and stress even worse.

“You’re grown,” your mother continues gently. “You have your whole life ahead of you. You can’t spend all your time feeling sorry for yourself because things didn’t happen as quickly as you thought they would.” Your lips are pursed tightly to the point of pain as tears trail down your face. “I don’t feel sorry for myself.” You hate how little your voice sounds. 

 “I know you’re upset, but sometimes you can be a little-” She hesitates, and those seconds of silence tell you everything. “A little what, mom?”

“Spoiled.” Your stomach drops, and you laugh in disbelief. “Spoiled? Really?” Your mom tries to backtrack. “I didn’t mean-” “No, go ahead by all means.” She sighs.

“I mean your father and I worked hard to get you opportunities. More than most people get. And I think you’re forgetting how fortunate you are.” You stand there, your eyes focusing on the fluorescent lights now. “Wow.”

“That’s now what I meant honey,-” “Then what did you mean mom?” You ask bitterly now. “I mean that maybe you’re looking for something to blame.” Your eyes sting.

“And maybe, you’re too occupied throwing yourself at a certain coworker to notice what’s actually happening.” Your entire body goes still. “...What?” 

“Lane.” She says his name simply. Your stomach twists, and you’re sure you’re going to throw up. “How do you know about Lane?” Another pause. 

“Nate-” Your ex. Of course. You zone out the rest of her explanation, too focused on calming yourself before you call him and giving him a peace of mind.-...“you’ve gotten rather attached.” Your jaw clenches. “Nate, doesn’t even know anything about me anymore.” You argue back.

“You know he means well. He cares about you after all this time.” She defends him. “He’s been talking to you?” You ask. “Only because he’s worried.” You laugh again, except this time there’s nothing amused about it.

“No, that’s great. Everyone is worried about me.” You say, your nails digging into your forearm. “Honey-”

“No, seriously. Mom, this is great. You, dad, and Nate can sit around and talk about how badly I’m fucking up my life while I’m at work trying to pay my bills.” 

“That is not what we’re doing.” She tries. She really does.

“Then stop talking about me like I’m not here.” You bite the words out before hanging up the phone.  

You scream as loud as you can before kicking the cardboard boxes you and Lane have never gotten around to stocking. You know it’s childish and that you’re throwing a tantrum, but you feel like you might explode otherwise. 

You drop yourself onto the floor, your back against the wall for support. You pull your knees into your chest and hug them tightly, trying to desperately steady your breathing. It’s all too much for you to handle, especially while you’re supposed to be on the clock.

Lane saunters into the stockroom like he hadn’t just debated whether to run in the second he heard you scream. He lets out a low whistle when he spots the cardboard boxes scattered across the floor, its contents discarded around it. His blue eyes drift toward you, and the casual look on his face immediately disappears. He frowns. 

“Damn, babe. You could’ve just told me you wanted me to come running.” He walks closer to you now, his shoes right in front of you. You sniffle. “Not in the mood, Lane.” You say quietly. “Really? I’m always in the mood for you.” He grins. Despite yourself, you snort. The corner of his mouth twitches, his grin softening when he actually got a reaction out of you.

Lane slowly sits beside you, and the familiarity of it all isn’t lost on you. It reminds you of that day in his bathroom. You take another deep breath. 

Who would've thought Lane Fostman would be the one to comfort you all these years later? Apparently, the universe has a sense of humor when it comes to your life. His leg nudges yours. “Not that I care…but what’s got your panties in a twist?” You nudge him harder. Lane feels like he can breathe a little easier. At least you’re responding to him. 

You sigh now, sitting up straight as you let your hands fall to your side. Embarrassment mixes with shame, and you have no idea where to begin. It’s all too personal, but then again, it’s Lane. And Lane is…Lane. You figure he won’t put too much emphasis on it. 

“Life.” You say simply at first. Lane nods. “Just life?” He asks, eyeing you from the side. He hates how there’s tear tracks on your cheeks. Something about it bothers him more than it should. 

You try really hard to hold it in, but the thoughts overpower you. Your lips press together as tears quietly spill down your cheeks again.  ‘Oh, gosh.” You groan, embarrassed, quickly wiping them away. 

Lane doesn’t know what to make of the feeling twisting in his chest. So instead, he brings an arm around your shoulders. You don’t shrug him off or fight it. If anything, your body leans into him. The familiar smell of his Axe body spray reminds you of all those times he used to pass you in the hallways. It’s strange, being this close to him after all these years. Yet, somehow, there’s comfort in it.

“I messed up my entire life, and I don’t know what to do.” You choke out in a soft voice. “That’s not true. You’re not even halfway yet. Hell, you haven’t even reached midlife crises.” He adds like it somehow settles the matter. You know he’s cracking jokes to make you feel better, but you shake your head. 

“I did everything right all those years ago, and somehow it still went to shit. How did I fuck up that badly?” You say utterly heartbroken. “I studied my ass off in high school, I went to the best college I could, and I tried to be independent.” You continue, staring up at the ceiling. You can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. 

“You know you’re not a failure, right?” You laugh bitterly, though it isn’t at him. It’s at yourself. “Feels like it.”  Lane’s hand presses gently against your shoulder. “Well, you’re wrong.”

Lane shakes his head. “Babe, you’re talking to like the biggest failure right now. You got a degree, that’s something.” His mind flashes back to your senior year. You were always buried in a book wherever he glanced toward your window, or reading in the cafeteria whenever he happened to pass by. He knows you tried because that’s all he ever saw you do.

“And what good was it for?” You ask. “No offense, but I did all that and I’m still here working the night shift at a convenience store. It was all for nothing.” You scoff. 

“So? It’s a job.” Lane shrugs.  “It’s not the job, Lane.” You answer softly. “Yeah, I know.”

“No you don’t.” Your voice cracks. “I spent years working toward something. I thought if I did everything by the book, I’d have something to show for it. And now I’m twenty-four, living in a shitty apartment, working nights, and wondering what the hell I did all of that for.” You huff, tears welling in your eyes. “Plus, I gained weight. I barely afford groceries, and somehow I’m gaining weight.” The words slip out before you can stop them.Maybe the last part isn’t important, but it’s been on your mind too.

Lane is quiet for a moment. His hand gives your shoulder a small squeeze. “Okay, maybe it didn’t turn out how you wanted.” 

You finally look at him, and somehow the seriousness in his expression hurts more than pity ever could. There’s no sympathy that makes you feel small, no ridiculous grin he usually wears to get under your skin. He just looks at you attentively and quietly. “But that’s mean you fucked up your whole life.” You stare at him, and you try to deny the way your heart feels squeezed by him. 

“You don’t know that.” You argue back, but your voice holds no edge or fight. 

“I know you.” The words come out so simply that they almost catch you off guard. Lane looks towards the floor,  his thumb absently rubbing against your shoulder. “I watched you bust your ass off senior year. You were always doing some nerdy shit. You barely looked up when people were talking to you.” 

A weak laugh escapes you. “That’s not exactly flattering.” 

“I’m not done.”

“Sorry.”

“You worked for that degree. You got it. You moved all the way out here by yourself. You got a job. You’re paying your own bills.” Lane sighs, glancing over at you. “Look, I don’t know what the hell you’re supposed to do next. I don’t have some magical answer that’s gonna make you feel better.” Your lips tremble. His hand remains on your shoulder, his thumb going still. “But I know you didn’t waste your life.”

You don’t answer, you’re left stunned, settling somewhere beneath all the noise in your head.  “You just haven't gotten to the good part yet.” You scoff quietly at him, but deep down, his words reach you.“That sounds like something you’d put on a stupid motivational poster.” You joke. “Yeah, well, I'm surprisingly a deep guy, babe. I’m not just a pretty face.” That earns another tiny laugh. Lane grins for a second, clearly pleased with himself, before his expression softens again.

“And for the record?” He says. “What?” You shift closer without really thinking about it. Lane notices, and his heart gives an embarrassing little jump. He tries not to let it show. “You're twenty-four.” You roll your eyes. “No, listen.” He nudges your knee with his. “You're talking like you're seventy and your life's already over.”

You shrug. “It feels like it.” “Well, you're wrong.” You look at him. There’s that certainty in his eyes, like the possibility of you being a lost cause doesn’t even occur to him. 

“You're allowed to be pissed off,” he says. “You're allowed to hate where you're at. You're allowed to think it sucks.” His thumb brushes absently against your shoulder again. “But don't sit here and tell me you're a failure just because things didn't go according to plan.” You stare at him for a long moment.

“And alright. You gained weight. So what?” He shrugs. You look at him wary, expecting him to come out with a fat joke. He must really feel bad for you not to say anything, damn. “You’re still you.” That hits you differently. Something in your chest twists.

“...When did you get so wise?” You blurt out.

His mouth quirks into a smirk. “Always have been, Pretty. You were just too busy looking elsewhere.” You shake your head, a reluctant smile pulling at your lips. “You're an idiot.”

“Yeah, but I'm your idiot.” You laugh despite yourself, wiping at your cheeks. Lane's grin returns. “There. That's better. Nobody wants a chick who ugly cries.” He can't help himself after all. You shove his shoulder, and his laugh with  yours fills the small stockroom.

“What did I tell you? Don’t fall in love with me, Babe.” He winks, and your heart gives an embarrassing little stutter. You quickly look away.

You try to recover. “My mom hates you, so I doubt we’ll be getting married.” Lane raises an eyebrow, feeling entirely too pleased with himself. “You told your mom about me already? I’m flattered.”

“I didn’t. Nate did.” 

And at the sound of his name, Lane’s smile immediately disappears. He scoffs, his expression souring. “Sunny?” He says with disgust. You laugh. “You still call him that? It’s been years!”

“What, guy can’t keep my dick out of his mouth?” You slap his arm. “He’s worried about me.” You sigh simply. 

“You dumped his ass years ago, he has no right to keep tabs on you.” Lane scoffs, though the irritation in his voice has less to do with Nate’s concern and more to do with the fact that Nate is paying attention at all. “What did that Ken doll say about me anyway?”

You shrug, and refuse  to mention the part about them accusing you of being attached to Lane. “Not sure, just know you were mentioned in their conversations.”

“They can continue their little fan club, I don’t give a fuck.” His arm remains around your shoulder, but his thumb stops moving. You giggle and shake your head. “Thank you. For all that.”

“You owe me, and I expect it to be worthwhile.” He grins. You shake your head, before shifting to your knees, crouching beside him now.  “Friends don’t ask for payment.” 

Friends. What the fuck? Lane stares at you, momentarily at a complete loss for words.

Before he can give a dumbass reply, you lean over and press a quick kiss on his cheek. “I gotta get back. Don’t want RJ to fire me.”

You get to your feet and head for the stockroom door, leaving Lane exactly frozen in place.

He watches you disappear.

Friends? His fingers absently brush the spot on his cheek where your lips had been.

Biker Boy had been waiting for you directly outside of Mad Dogs this time, no longer hesitating at the bus stop or lurking a couple feet away in the dark. The moment you spotted him waiting out in the drizzling rain, your face lit up before you could stop it. 

God, there he is.

Leaning against his motorcycle like he didn’t have a care in the world. Like standing in the rain didn’t bother him in the slightest. Until you noticed the way he straightened up the second your eyes met.

Lane’s annoyed sigh had barely registered to your ears, nor whatever the hell he mumbled out. Behind his dark helmet, Werner couldn’t help but smirk as quiet pride settled in his chest. Without a second thought, you hurried over and climbed onto the back of his bike, unable to hide the grin tugging at your lips.

The ride was pleasant and fast enough, but by the time you reached your apartment, the two of you were drenched. You slipped the helmet off and handed it back to him. 

“You should get inside quickly,” Werner said over the steady patter of rain. “I don’t want you getting sick.” He continued. “You’ll get sick too!” You shot back. “I won’t.” The reply came so quickly it made you snort. “You’re impossible.” You stubbornly comment. “I’ll be fine.” Of course, he wouldn’t let this go. 

For a brief moment, hesitation and desire battled it out inside your head. Every sensible thought screamed at you to keep your mouth shut. Unfortunately, your other body parts had different plans. Before you could chicken out, the words were already leaving your mouth.

 “...Come inside with me to dry off.” The moment the words left your mouth, everything seemed to stop. The rain suddenly felt much louder than before, and the evening cool air did nothing to tame the warmth creeping across your face.  You racked your mind to soften the invitation. “I mean…if-if you want.” You quickly added with a nervous laugh.

Werner studied you for a long moment, his unreadable gaze making you shift from one foot to the other. He noticed you avoiding his gaze, the red blooming on your cheeks, and the nervous rise and fall of your breathing. 

Was this really what you wanted? Or had the invitation simply slipped out before you could think better of it?

The signs were familiar enough. He’d been invited inside enough times to know what those invitations usually meant. Women who wanted to have sex with him rarely left much room for interpretation. But you weren’t ‘women’. You were you, and that made him question every instinct regarding your interest in him.

Because if this was what you were alluding to…then he’d be lying ,and a damn hypocrite, if he said he hadn’t thought of or imagined it before.

“Okay.” He finally answered, thankful his helmet was shielding the red across his cheeks and ears.

The elevator suddenly feels much smaller with Werner standing beside you, his quiet presence filling every inch of space. You catch a hazy glimpse of both your reflections in the metal door, and your lips can’t help but twitch into a smile. Soaked to the bone, shivering from the late November rain,  and standing shoulder to shoulder like two idiots who have no idea what to do next.

 The elevator chimes, and you’re stepping into the empty hallway. You’re met with the same eerie quietness that comes with the early hours of the morning. A glance in Werner’s direction tells you he’s avoiding eye contact.  Seriously?

By the time you reach your door, you’re already digging in for your keys through your bag. 

The moment you two step inside, a wave of embarrassment crashes over your entire being. Of course, he was seeing your dirty apartment for the first time. You hadn’t expected company. 

“Sorry, it’s small and kind of a mess.”  The apology slips out before you can stop it as you hurry to lock the door behind you. Rainwater drips steadily from both of you, forming a growing puddle around your feet.

Desperate to busy yourself with something - anything to give you a moment to gather your thoughts, you hurry to the bathroom. You drop to your knees in front of the cabinet beneath the sink, rummaging through it a little harder than necessary to grab towels.

Werner stands still as he watches you disappear into the bathroom. 

He had imagined being in your apartment more than once, he just never expected it to happen anytime soon… if ever. Now that he was here, every instinct was urging him to close the distance between you. Yet, his feet stay firmly planted.  His gaze wanders across the cramped living room before settling on the tiny kitchenette. A stack of dirty dishes rest in the sink, while an impressive collection of spicy ramen seats neatly tucked against the wall. He quietly smiles to himself more than anything.

The apartment is  barely big enough for one person, let alone two. Especially with someone his size. If both of you moved at the same time, there would be nowhere to go. Maybe that’s why the atmosphere is so quiet. There’s nowhere to retreat. Nowhere to hide with the growing tension between you two.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s a lot better than mine.” BB lets out with an amused huff. Somehow his attempt to reassure you only made your cheeks burn hotter.  He really has to be this sweet, doesn't he? 

You make your way back to him, handing him a towel while using the other to blot the rain from your hair. Werner accepts it without hesitation. Your fingers brush each others’  for the briefest seconds, and you expect him to like he’s been electrocuted like usual. This time he surprisingly doesn’t. This time he doesn’t pull away, letting the touch linger for a few seconds longer. Your heart immediately skips a beat, and you feel a bit juvenile for getting so easily flustered. You’re the first one to pull away, disguising it behind an awkward little cough.

 For a moment, he just stands there…doing nothing. Motionless. The towel still in his hands. It takes you an embarrassingly long moment for realization to hit. Right. His fucking helmet.

“You can take it off you know?” You try to fake nonchalance, though the hope in your voice betrays you. BB doesn’t say anything for a second.  “...I’d rather not.” 

His tone isn’t angry or annoyed, if anything he almost sounds apologetic. “Right, right. Sorry.” You say simply. Werner catches on quickly and feels guilty for denying you, but he has his reasons. Clearing his throat, he bends down to pull his soaked boots instead before peeling away his motorcycle gloves as well. The helmet stays lodged on his head. The apartment already feels stuffier than normal. 

You glance down at the puddle beneath his socked feet. “...You’re still soaked.” Werner looks down to catch your gaze. “I’ll live.” He shrugs. You answer with nothing more than a playful glare. “Give me a second.” Before he can tell you to stop, you’re already turning the corner to your bedroom, leaving him once more so you can desperately gather your thoughts.

Okay. Stop being awkward. And don’t say anything embarrassing. Just be smooth, let him know you want him.

Werner stays still once more in the middle of the hallway, following your orders. Nevertheless, his eyes drift towards your bedroom. He takes in the messiness of your sanctuary. A pile of blankets thrown on your bed, posters plastered on your wall of your favorite bands, and a few books stacked on the nightstand. An organized mess. BB found himself smiling beneath his helmet. It suits you.

His gaze drifts lower over your bent form without an ounce of shame. The rain darkened denim clings to every curve, leaving little to the imagination. His hands twitch at his side. Christ. 

“BB! Come and see if this oversized hoodie fits!” Your voice pulls him from his thoughts.

His gaze immediately lifts to the back of your head as if he was reprimanded. Werner carefully walks towards you, not wanting his socks to leave a trail of wet footprints.

The moment he fully stands in the middle of your room something inside him settles. He feels homely and cozier. The faint scent of your perfume lingers in the air, softened by rain and something unmistakably you. It’s all you. For a man who spent far too many nights wondering what it would be like to be directly in your space, standing in it now almost felt surreal for him. 

Werner takes the hoodie from you. “Where do you want me to change?” He asks quietly. Your eyes dart around your tiny apartment, the bathroom was barely big enough for one person, let alone someone built like Werner.  “Uhm- here is fine. I can turn around. My bathroom is a mess.” As if this place isn’t embarrassing enough.

Werner simply nods, reaching past you to set the hoodie on your bed. His tattooed arm passes just inches from your shoulder. He’s so close that you can feel his body heat. Your body stiffens, eyes locked on his visor. Your breath caught on your throat. Werner pauses. He’s hyperaware of how you’re mere centimeters away from his body. He’s so close he can hear your nervous breathing. Every instinct tells him to step closer, yet he stays exactly where he is. 

You can tell he’s giving you the opportunity to move away if you want.

You don’t. And before you can think further or hesitate, you gather the courage to speak up.

“I’m not gonna lie.” You chuckle nervously. “I kinda wish that helmet was off…” You swallow, licking your lips. “So you could kiss me.” 

His posture softens immediately,  and his hand instinctively comes to the clasp beneath his helmet. His fingers curl tightly around it. Werner’s desperate to feel your lips against his. Yet, something he can’t really name stops him. After a brief moment, he exhales quietly before lowering himself to your eye level. No matter how hard you try to focus, you can’t exactly make out any of his facial features.

Werner’s voice is quieter now.  “I’ve been wanting to kiss you too, I’m just…not ready to take it off.” 

“I’m not ready for you to see me yet.” 

“Oh.” You answer. Werner’s shoulders subtly dip, and you catch it immediately. “Then don’t take it off,” you say quickly. He tilts his head still looking at you directly. “I want you, BB.” You don’t miss the way your face feels like it’s on fire or the way your hands get sweaty from nerves. “Whatever you’re ready to share with me…that’s enough.”

“Are you sure? What if I’m hideous?” He deadpans, and you don’t know if he’s joking or not. You laugh softly despite yourself.  “BB…I’ve been crushing on you even though I don’t have the faintest clue of what you look like.” You shake your head. “I think I’m way past caring what you look like.” Your gaze shifts to your feet. “I just...I really like you.” 

Werner stays quiet for a long moment. His heart feels like it skips a beat, and he feels happy. You make him happy with your words and reassurance. “I like you too.” He answers. “Good.” You laugh with relief.

Werner steps closer to you now, his hands resting on your hips. You look up at him, your heart racing. Your hands come to his biceps, and it’s ridiculous how big he is. 

“Did you want to have sex?” Werner asks abruptly, and it has your expression crumbling into mortification. Werner can’t help but grin. “Don’t say it like that!” You screech at him. Your hands are coming to swat at his chest. He hums amused at your reaction. 

“I asked you a question.” And his tone has you speechless. The lightheartedness and awkward atmosphere gone. 

It gives you whiplash just how quickly his demeanor changes. “Y-yeah…” You squeak out before clearing your throat. “I see. I’m glad you came to me, then.” His tone is lower and steadier. More confident. What the fuck?

Werner takes another step towards you, making your back hit the footboard of your bed. With subtly he manages to position his leg right against your core. The small pressure having you grip his biceps once more. “BB?” You question with a soft voice. 

“You wanted me to take care of your needs, right?” He whispers. You whimper and that seems to do something to him, since he presses his thigh harder against you. Your hips can't help but rock forward. The small bit of friction makes you inhale. “Yes.” 

Werner's grip on your hips tighten then, he tugs you to start grinding against his thigh. Your face burns even redder if it were possible, and your fingers dig into the skin of his arm. “Fuck.” You gasp. Werners’ dick twitches at the sight of you. 

Werner keeps his gaze locked on you. His erection now visible through his joggers. You bite your lip at the sight. He's a lot bigger compared to what you’ve had before. You wonder if you'll even be able to take it. Despite the concern, your hand reaches to cup him over his clothing. It earns you a grunt from him. You squeeze him and drag your hand up and down.

Before you can even go further, Werner is already letting you go and stepping aside. You almost whine at the loss of his touch. “Stay here.” He says, and you listen.

Werner turns on his heel and makes his way toward the basket of clean laundry in the corner of your room. He barely hesitates, his hand shuffling through the folded clothes with silent purpose. He settles on a sky-blue scarf you’ve owned for years. Your breath catches. You instantly know exactly what he plans to do with it. The realization sends a nervous thrill coursing through your veins. Before he can utter a single word, you quietly turn around, waiting as the measures of his footsteps close the distance between you.

His chest almost bumps into your back. He clears his throat. “Can you take your top off for me?” He asks. You nod  and you reach for your wet shirt that clings uncomfortably to your skin. You pull it off and it lands with a wet plop onto the floor. 

Werner drapes the soft scarf over your eyes, securing it in place with a tight knot. It feels…intensely intimate. “Don’t untie it. Don’t open your eyes either.” His voice leaves little room for argument. It’s a completely different shift from the BB you know. “I won’t. You can trust me.” You answer without hesitation, because making him feel uncomfortable is the last thing you want to do. Your words make his heart lurch. The word ‘trust’ sinks deeply into his chest. 

You hear a loud thud on the floor, and you can only assume it’s his helmet. Before you can fully process it, his hands find your waist, turning you toward him in one single motion. Werner kisses you with a desperation that steals every coherent thought from your mind. He’s spent far too long denying himself this one moment.

Your hands lift to his face, curious to memorize the features you’ve imagined for so long. He catches your wrists before your hands can even make contact with his skin, gently guiding them away. Disappointment flickers through you for a moment. Your palms settle against his broad shoulders instead, and he relaxes ever so slightly into your touch.

You moan into his mouth as his tongue aims to claim every inch of you. His to kiss. His to take. His to ruin. Werner’s hands snake down your plush thighs to lift you up causing you to giggle. You actually feel him smile against your lips. 

It’s strange not being able to see, but to be so conscious of his touch. Werner kisses you once more, and he knows he’ll never be able to function properly without feeling you like this ever again in his life. Your legs tighten around his waist, and his bulge rubs right against your clothed center. The friction sends a jolt of pleasure though you, and you can’t help but ground yourself against him a little harder. He hisses slightly, and trails his mouth down to your neck. 

“BB…” You moan, your fingers digging into his shoulders to stop from reaching his hair. Werner doesn’t say anything as he gently lays you down onto your bed. His body leaves you, making you instantly miss his touch. You hear shuffling until something hits the floor, and you swallow instantly. He was undressing himself completely.  How you would’ve given anything to see him bare right in front of you. A small frown overtakes your expression, and Werner can only smirk at your frustration. 

You reach behind you, unclipping your bra for him, and you feel his stare burning into your skin. You wish you could see the desire in his eyes for you. Just as you’re about to reach for the buttons on your jeans, his hands grab your wrist making you jump slightly. “Let me.” Werner rasps. And you can only nod in nervous anticipation.

He pulls the wet fabric that clings to your skin in one strong swoop, leaving you in just your panties. Werner slides them down gently this time, in complete awe of your body. Of you.

He groans, and you shyly clamp your thighs together. “Don’t. I like what I see too much.” “Werner!” You blurt out embarrassed. The bed dips in front of you as Werner starts making his way towards your body. His warm hands come to your shoulders, signaling you to lay down completely.

Once your back hits the mattress, he’s completely on top of you. Although, he makes sure not to drop his whole weight on you in fear of crushing you. Werner captures your mouth in a kiss, and you eagerly tilt your head to devour him. His tongue swirls around yours, savoring you completely.  

Werner simply grunts into the kiss, and the tip of his cock pokes your entrance. Your hips move before you can think, and it has him gripping his cock. “Wait.” he says, and it has you internally groaning. He goes back to kissing you, but this time he gives his cock a few good strokes at the sound of your moaning. And just for good measure, he makes sure to slap his cock against your stomach. 

If your eyes were open, you’re positive they would’ve bulged out of your head. “Fuck…” You curse out pulling away from the kiss. He didn’t feel small by any means. He smiles proudly at your bewilderment. Werner hums in approval, as his fingers drag across your slit. You swallow harshly at the teasing.

“I need you dripping so you’ll swallow my cock easier.” He mumbles, his fingers circling your clit. The noise from your moans and wet pussy fill your bedroom, and it’s overwhelming for you already. Werner enjoys seeing you squirm, and there’s no doubt in your head that this man likes being in control in more ways than one. 

He starts off slow, putting one finger inside of you to see just how tight you’ll be for him. When your plush walls hug his digit, his dick twitches in response. A bit of precum leaking off his tip onto your skin. The sight drives him wilder. “Fuck.” Is all he says as he keeps prepping you. 

Your back arches into him, feeling the sting of another finger being added. You weren’t a virgin by any means, but it had been some time since you’d been with someone. It felt new all over again. You throw your head back when his thumb roughly rubs your clit. 

The blindfold steals away your sight, leaving every other sensation unbearably vivid. The radiating heat of his body, his thick fingers, the quiet hitch of his breathing, and the familiar scent of rain and muskl still clinging to him.

You jump slightly when Werner’s mouth descends onto your breast, his tongue swirling around your perky nipple. “BB…” He doesn’t say anything as he sucks and bites on the small peak, his fingers thoroughly fucking you at a steady, rough pace. Your body craves more, your wet hole aching to be filled and stretched by him. 

“Please, I want…more.” You whisper. Werner wants nothing more than to fuck you into mattress, but he worries about your well being more than anything. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He answers. “You won’t. I want it.” Your voice is impatient and lost in desire.

He lets out a rough exhale, a sound so raw it vibrates through your bones. Werner slips his fingers out of you, and he can’t help himself but lick your arousal off his fingers. You want to cry at the sound of it. Werner carefully spreads your legs further for him. The sight of your arousal coating your pussy lips turns animalistic. 

His hands hold your thighs apart, as his tip nudges your entrance. That alone has you reeling. Your hands ache to hold him, to caress him, yet you keep them glued beside you. Werner enters you as gently as he can, and it has you taking a deep breath. “Take it. Take all of it.” His voice is low and lost in the fog of lust. 

The stretch is painful and addictive all at once. Knowing your pussy is accommodating to his thick, large size has you slinging your arm over to cover the lower half of your face. “No.” Werner immediately speaks. His hands grab your wrists, pinning them beside your head. 

Werner starts rocking his hips, his thrusts digging deep inside of you. The sounds of his balls hitting your ass echo, and your whimpers fuel him to make those lovely sounds keep coming out. As you become more accustomed to his size, Werner loses himself in your tight, wet heat. He lets go of your wrists, gripping your leg and bringing it over his shoulders. The angle makes him drive himself even deeper.

You feel your senses go on overdrive. The stretch, the burn, and the relentless pounding.

He grunts as his pace quickens. Werner thinks of all the positions he wants to fuck you. And a shiver runs down his spine picturing you on all fours, while his hands hold your wrists down as he fucks you onto oblivion. Or when he’s fucking you with his hands wrapped around your throat. Or when he can put you in a headlock and fuck you in front the mirror-

The thoughts are driving him wild, and he's frustrated at just how easily you're making him lose control. 

You’re not doing any better. He’s railing you right into your mattress, and the only thing you can do is take it. “Being such a good girl.” Werner compliments, and only makes your pussy squeeze his cock harder. “Fuck.” He curses out his dick aching to be milked dry by you.

You’re nearing your release, and Werner can tell. He picks up his pace, slamming into you with vigor. His balls slap against you, and your wetness makes him slide in so easily. “BB!” You choke out with a sob. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” You sputter out desperately, your hands clinging to the sheets beside you. “Cum on my dick.” He orders.

Your body listens before you can process it. 

He doesn’t stop when you’re already trembling against him, he keeps ramming into you. Your body aches from it, and you love it every second Werner keeps chasing his release. He shutters with a groan as his thick cum fills you. You clench around him, and it has him hissing. 

Slowly he pulls out of you not wanting his cum to drip outside of you. You lay breathless and limp.

Werner studies you carefully, searching for any sign that you regret what happened or whether you’re hurt. Finding nothing off, he finally let himself lay beside you. His heart gave a quiet, satisfied thump as you immediately curl into his side, your arm draping over him without a second thought. You hug him tightly. “Thank you for that…” You mumble. “You don’t have to thank me.” His answer comes without hesitation. “I wanted that too.” A grin spread across your face.