Claire Writes And Rambles @clairewritesandrambles - Tumblr Blog

'Tis the Damn Season - Scott Miller

Summary: After the dissolution of your long-term relationship, you find yourself starting over in your hometown. When you see your childhood best friend, Scott, for the first time in years, how will things change between the two of you?

Pairing: Scott Miller x F!Reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY), cheating (not involving the main pairing), anxiety, negative self-talk about the reader's body, nosy small town people, rough-ish sex (nothing crazy), choking, talk about deepthroating, Scott is 31 years old

A/N: Only a month late lol, sorry everybody. I really hope it's worth the wait. Thank you to @hederasgarden for beta-ing!

Music flowed softly through your room as you completed the finishing touches of your outfit. You had spent years dreading your mother's Christmas parties with her friends, having been forced to spend too many with her as a teenager instead of hanging out with your friends. This was the first year in a long time that you were truly looking forward to spending time with your mother, though you knew this would be the worst year for the looks and comments from her friends curious about your return to her house.

The faint sound of a knock at the door sounded through the house, followed quickly by the low rumble of voices as your mother greeted whoever it was. Probably just one of her friends from work, who would smile when they saw you and make dull small talk before getting that sickly curious look in their eye as they ask what you were doing back. It never took long for people in your town to dig for gossip.

You took a step back to look at yourself in the reflection of the mirror, mentally steeling yourself for the prying questions that would be coming, just the idea of the attention being enough to churn your stomach with anxiety. With one last deep breath you headed down the stairs, your mind already drifting to the bottle of wine in the fridge that awaited.

You jumped back in surprise when you turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs, very nearly running into the back of someone from how distracted you had been. You let out a soft apology, making a move to go around the woman before you realized who it was.

"Mrs. Miller!" You exclaimed as she smiled back at you, clearly as surprised to see you as you were to see her. "Mom didn't tell me that you were coming."

"Oh, hello, dear!" She squealed. "I heard you were home, but I had to come and see for myself." She pulled you in for a tight hug, her hands comfortingly rubbing your back as she continued. "How have things been?"

Tears stung your eyes at her question, your stomach tightening in response. The sincerity in her voice had become so foreign in the last couple of months, with most people more concerned with the drama than the emotions of your involvement. If this had been anyone else, you were sure that it would have been void of emotion.

Whether they asked or not, Mrs. Miller was the only one of your mother's friends who could coax this response from you. She and her house had become a second home during your childhood, as familiar as your own from years of going over to hang out with Scott. When you had been too nervous to tell your mother about your first date in high school, it was Mrs. Miller that you went to for help. You knew that in this moment she was not seeing an example of the insidious gossip that your town loved, but instead, her unofficial daughter trying to come to terms with the recent events.

"I'm getting through it." You assured her, voice shaking even as you tried to put on a brave face. The truth was that you were over what had happened, but were still struggling with the loss of the life you had been steadily building for years. The recovery period had been a deeper trench than you anticipated, the steep edges covering your mind in shadow despite the presence of light in the distance.

Her eyes crinkled as she offered you a soft smile. "You will. You've always been resilient." She slipped her arm into yours as she continued, directing you towards the kitchen while she spoke. "I still remember the time Scott accidentally flipped you off that glider swing in my backyard. I was having a heart attack thinking you broke your face from the blood coming out of your lip, meanwhile, you were chasing him down to shove his face in the dirt as revenge."

"Well, someone had to do it. He was always a bit of an-" You were caught by surprise as you turned the corner into the kitchen, the rest of your words catching in your throat.

Scott was leaning against your mother's cupboards, a glass of whiskey in his hand as he made small talk with another of your mother's friends. His hair had grown since the last time you saw him, the tips of his dark waves brushing the nape of his neck. The black sweater he had on gave him a more polished look than you were used to. Scott had always been an outfit repeater, most of his casual sweaters worn to the point of holes. But this one looked almost brand new, closer to the perfect preparation of his work clothes.

It was like he was simultaneously identical to your memory and the polar opposite.

He seemed to be having a similar train of thought as his eyes flicked to you, his hand unconsciously tightening on his glass. His eyes roamed over you before his lips thinned into a straight line, the closest to a friendly smile he could muster on most days. A stranger may have taken his expression as one of apathy, but your years of experience told you that he was feeling the same mix of excitement and anxiety that had overtaken your stomach.

"Hey, you," he said, his chest rising and falling in a nervous breath as he straightened his posture.

You glanced at his mother quickly, noting her small smirk as her eyes flicked between you too, before you stepped closer to him. "Hey. I didn't realize that you were coming."

"I didn't realize you were either. Probably should've caught on when that one," he explained, pointing over your shoulder to his mother's retreating form, "insisted that I make an appearance."

Despite the ball of anxiety keeping every part of you on edge, you couldn't help but laugh at the story. Of course, she had made him come. Mrs. Miller had made it her life's mission to keep you two as close as possible. Maybe if both of you hadn't left your hometown, things wouldn't be as awkward as they currently were.

Scott's eyes roved around the room, before landing on the open space next to you as he furrowed his brows. He was clearly noticing the lack of your usual shadow at these events, your solitary form contrasting with his usual view.

Thankfully, before he could open his mouth to point out the absence, your mother's friend interjected. "Oh! So this is the Scott your mom says you were always running around with."

Scott gave a sarcastic smile in return, one of the ones that never met his eyes. "The one and only."

You offered a small smile to her, an apologetic look on your face. "I'm sorry about him. We only let him out of his cage once a year, so he's bad at the whole 'socializing' thing."

The soft smirk on Scott's face weakened the grip of anxiety on your body, a small reminder that the decay of time was not as fast as you had thought.

The moment of relief was short-lived though, as your mother's friend immediately turned to you after a short laugh and sobered her expression. "I was so surprised to hear that you were back home. None of us ever imagined you'd end up back here, given how good things seemed to be going."

Neither had you. This was the moment you had been so worried about; when people would go out of their way to remind you of your fall from grace. You were no longer the girl who had escaped your small town; instead, you were only another one who had failed.

"Yeah, well, I guess everything happens for a reason!" You replied, trying desperately to ignore Scott's confused look in your periphery. While it was difficult, you could handle the comments and judgment from near strangers. You wouldn't be able to handle it from him. Knowing that he was doing exactly what he had always set out to do, simultaneously running a business in Oklahoma while living in Massachusetts for the other part of the year. Meanwhile, you had none of the things you had set out with: no partner, no job, no house.

"Still, it must be hard. All those years..." Your chest shuddered at her words, Scott's presence slowly suffocating you. You desperately needed a reason to rid yourself of both of them.

Per usual, it was your mother who rescued you. She shouted your name from somewhere outside of the kitchen, giving you the perfect opportunity to excuse yourself and run before either of them could continue the conversation.

You made a quick appearance at your mother's side, greeting one of her old friends who hadn't seen you in years. Then you claimed that you were going to get some food out of the basement freezer for her.

In the cool air of the basement, you could finally feel the claustrophobic hold on your lungs finally release. Your throat felt raw from withholding your emotions, eyes stinging once again with the threat of tears. You sucked in short, shaky breaths against your body's will, not wanting to give anyone the satisfaction of red eyes on your return.

You may have cracked in front of them, but you'd be damned if you were to let anyone from this town see you break.

Holy shit. You could not wait to leave this town. Again.

After you had finally walked yourself back from the brink of panic, you went upstairs with the intention of enjoying yourself for the rest of the party. Maybe if you put on a happy front, the questions would quiet.

But, if anything, that change seemed to have the opposite effect. It was like your mother's friends could see the cracks in your performance and were determined to shatter it.

After someone had finally truly breached the topic, commenting on how nice your ex had seemed, you finally reached your breaking point. You excused yourself without decorum, trudging your way to the covered porch at the back of the house.

The cool air settled the fire heating your skin as soon as you pushed the door open, a frustrated sound escaping your throat as it slammed behind you. Was it really that hard for people to have some empathy?

"Uh," Scott cleared his throat from the corner. You whipped around to face him, not even noticing that he had disappeared from the central group of people. You stepped back, acting like you had been trapped with a stranger rather than your lifelong best friend.

"What's wrong?"

You thought briefly of deflecting his question and running to your room for the rest of the holidays to avoid him. That was a terrible idea though, your mothers loved to spend most of their work break together and you would inevitably have to see him again.

"I just can't," you offered, gesturing wildly in the general direction of the party, "with them. I forgot how this town is."

Scott let out a sharp laugh. "Tell me about it."

The silence lulled between you two for a second, neither of you making a move towards actual conversation. "Sorry. I didn't realize you were out here, I can go if you want me to."

You had started moving towards the door in the middle of your sentence, but the tone of his words stopped you dead in your tracks. "No. I mean, uh, you can stay. If you want."

When you stayed stuck in place like a deer caught in headlights, he continued. "I'd like you to stay."

You shuffled towards him, your heart pounding in nervousness when he moved his now empty whiskey glass. He clearly expected you to sit next to him, and yet you reacted like he was a stranger performing the gesture instead of Scott.

"So, where's Kevin?" He asked, barely giving you a second to settle. "Didn't he used to always come to these things?"

You stared down at your hands in your lap, knowing that your slight deception had come back to bite you at last. "Oh, uh," you stuttered, "we broke up."

"What?" He asked, surging forward in his seat. "Since when?"

"October."

"And you didn't tell me?" Your eyes flitted to him briefly, returning back to their place of shame in your lap when you saw his expression. The corners of his lips were turned down in a frown, eyebrows furrowed at the fact you had kept this from him. "Is that why you're back here?"

You nodded solemnly, swallowing the lump in your throat at the memory of your breakup. "I meant to tell you. We just hadn't talked in so long, and I know you were busy... I just didn't know what to say."

When he didn't reply right away you looked back at him, noticing he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. It was his tell-tale bad habit that he was feeling as guilty as you about the lack of communication between you two for the past few years.

"What happened?" He asked, avoiding the tension between you for a bit longer.

You sighed at the question, your shoulders relaxing slightly as you focused more on the emotions associated with Kevin than the ones with Scott. You explained that a few years ago, when you stopped coming home as often and the beginning of the downfall of your friendship with Scott, was when it had begun.

Kevin and you had been together since sophomore year and it was only recently that you seemed to both realize the incompatibilities you had ignored for years. The fights had started small, arguments over dirty dishes and clothes. But soon they had begun to take over your relationship, both of you walking on eggshells around each other. Home became a prison of cold shoulders and snide comments, contrasted by your public image of being the high school sweethearts who had "made it."

As your relationship devolved, so did the worst qualities of Kevin that you had overlooked and excused for years. His jealousy and possessiveness became more noticeable, his actions becoming less about him wanting to be with you and more about not allowing you to exist without him. That was where the joke of him being your shadow at family events had come from. Eventually, he became paranoid enough that he didn't want to leave you alone with any men - including Scott. Slowly, the smile you had fallen in love with became a sinister smirk.

You had been so determined that you could fix things, not wanting to face the reality of starting over at your age, that you had gone along with it. Slowly, but surely, your actions became complementary to his desires. You stopped visiting home as often, calling and texting less with Scott to avoid Kevin's moods. You had even picked out a cheap engagement ring, giving in to the belief that it might fix things.

This performance went on for almost a year before you realized that you had simply been delaying the inevitable. You were trapped in your isolated life, hours from your family, and your last message to Scott buried months into your messages. You had even thought things were getting better, the arguments becoming less common.

Then you started finding her things around the house. You had noticed the longer work hours, but it wasn't until you found the out-of-place hairs in your bed after a weekend away that you had to face the truth. Every trip brought a new discovery: a false eyelash, a mismatched hair tie, an unfamiliar toothbrush. But it wasn't until you had seen the necklace box, one you had mentioned wanting for years, marked with a name that wasn't yours that you finally had enough.

That was the weekend you left your ring on his coffee table and moved home. You had let him keep the lease, just wanting to rid yourself of all ties to him as quickly as you could. Now, you wished you had fought for it a bit more. At least you wouldn't have started completely back at square one.

You left out any mentions of his role in your relationship as you recalled the breakdown to Scott, not wanting to expose the full depths of your weakness just yet. You knew that he didn’t struggle with the constant self-doubt that you did, but you still worried about the implications of the statement. After such a rocky recent past, you didn’t want to risk it.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Scott spat, his face curdled into a look of disgust. "I always thought he wasn't good enough for you, but I did not realize he was that much of a piece of shit."

You laughed humourlessly at his words, nodding slightly. "Neither did I."

"I can hit him with my car if you want." He offered, shrugging casually. "Off the record, of course."

You choked on laughter at his joke, seeing a small smile on his face at the success. There was a stark difference between his earlier smile towards your mother's friend, the one he always offered strangers, and the one currently breaking through. This smile was almost always only reserved for you and his mother, actually allowing it to soften his eyes at the same time instead of staying apathetic.

"You really do deserve better, though." He said, pausing to make eye contact. "You're too great to be wasting time with losers like Kevin."

You thought of putting on the usual brave face you made when people fed you these lines but decided to stick with the open nature of your conversation instead. It had been too long since you'd talked to Scott like this. You had missed his honesty.

"Scott, I need you to be real right now. No one wants someone who looks like me and I am completely starting over right now. No one even wants me, much less wants me enough to treat me better." You cringed slightly even as you spoke the words, that inner voice warning you about appearing as a burden. He was no stranger to your insecurities about your body, yet you couldn't help but feel like you still had to hide your feelings.

Scott rolled his eyes slightly at you, more out of disbelief than actual annoyance. "Well, anyone who lets a bit of softness get to them probably doesn't know how to treat you well anyway. Someone wants you."

"Oh yeah?" You prodded. "Like who?"

Scott's eyes snapped to yours at your question, charged tension quickly crackling through the air. Neither of you moved or spoke, an unspoken suggestion hanging thickly in the middle.

"What the hell are you two doing?" Your mother asked, throwing open the door just as Scott had opened his mouth to speak. "Stop being shy and get back in here!"

You sighed deeply as you rolled over in bed once again, a listless glance at the clock telling you it had only been five minutes since the last time you checked. Normally, your room felt like a sanctuary from the realities of life, but now it felt more like a cage.

The party had finally died down around 11pm, but given the amount of drinking that both Millers had partaken in, your mother insisted that they stayed the night. So instead of having the distance to come to your own conclusions about the meaning behind Scott's glances after your conversation, you had to lay in bed with the thoughts while he was on the couch one floor below you.

Had you imagined the longing in his gaze throughout the rest of the night? The usual insecurities crawled into your mind, running over any optimism that bubbled to the surface. Sure, Scott had put up with you all these years but there was a difference between the platonic nature of your relationship and the romantic look you had clearly hallucinated. Maybe the loneliness of the past few years had finally broken you; the fragments of your mind clinging onto any semblance of affection to try and glue themselves back together.

Even if you had seen the truth, did it even matter? Your friendship with Scott had been one of the greatest constants of your life and after such a shaky time, did you think either of you would be willing to take that risk? You had ignored your feelings for him in your teenage years for the same reason, not wanting to wager his friendship on the chance of love, instead running to the safer option of Kevin.

Would it be worth it for the stares, even if something did happen? The empathetic hunger of your town could run for months, but would they turn on you if they thought you moved on too quickly? You had seen the insidious nature of the gossip surrounding women who moved on in your town, their names inevitably always coming into questions of character. It had been months since you had his ring on your finger, and years since either of you had been truly happy, but no one else knew that. To them, you'd be the girl who had broken the heart of the golden boy and moved on with the man who had always been there. You had never been in love with Scott while you were with Kevin, but if you acted on these resurrected feelings you knew how it would appear. Kevin would gloat to everyone that he knew and you would see the worst of small towns.

But it was also too hard to ignore his presence after his earlier implications, knowing that you could have answers if you just went down the stairs.

You threw your blankets off with a grunt, ignoring the voice in the back of your mind as you grabbed an old pair of sweatpants from your dresser and headed down the stairs. The house had been quiet for an hour, so you didn't feel too worried about being interrupted by either of your mothers.

You faltered briefly at the bottom of the stairs, suddenly considering that he may have already fallen asleep. But then you saw the faint glow of the television and knew that meant he was still awake. You moved towards it cautiously, hands fumbling with the waistband of the sweats.

Scott was reclined on the couch when you turned the corner, scrolling aimlessly on his phone as he readjusted the waistband of his jeans. He looked up at you in surprise when he noticed your movement, an eyebrow arching wordlessly at you.

"Umm," you paused, mentally smacking yourself for acting like you had been caught with drugs rather than having deliberately walked down here to talk to him. "Here." You stuck the pants out at him before continuing, still not seeming able to form full sentences. "I thought your jeans might be uncomfortable for a full night."

You could see the moment a sarcastic comment about your stunted words came to his mind, his eyes lighting up at the same time his lips curved upwards in a playful smirk. Mercifully, however, he settled for placing his hand over his heart in fake admiration.

"My hero!" He exclaimed, taking the pants from your outstretched hand. He had probably forgotten you even had an old pair of his, most likely a relic of a party where you had crashed at his place and, like usual, always forgot something to sleep in. You had even forgotten you still had some of his clothes until you had packed your life into boxes.

You continued your awkward streak by lingering, trying to think of how to broach the subject of interest. Scott raised his eyebrows at you expectedly, pursing his lips slightly at your behaviour. "Did you change your mind about the car or something? Why are you acting so nervous?"

You chewed on your lip for a second, looking for a lie that would allow you to escape back to your room, but deciding to sit on the couch and speak before you could change your mind again.

"What did you mean earlier?" You asked, continuing when he furrowed his brows. "When you said that someone wants me?"

"Oh," he said, chewing the inside of his cheek again, "that."

He offered no further explanation, looking anywhere that wasn't your face as he stalled for time.

"Scott," you prodded when the silence had lingered for too long.

"I just don't want to ruin anything," he said, bringing his gaze to meet yours. "I didn't even expect to see you while I was here, much less almost spilling my guts about everything."

When you didn't respond he groaned and pouted slightly. "Are you really gonna make me say it?"

"Listen, Scott, I didn't expect anything like this to happen now either. But I'm finally single for the first time in years, so yes. I'd like to know why you said that to me after all this time." Your chest shuddered slightly in the tension of the moment, feeling like someone was pulling your lungs closed. "It doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to, but I want to know."

"Maybe I want it to mean something," he countered, "I haven't spent my entire life loving you just for it to mean nothing to either of us. I know that someone wants you because I’m that person."

He continued when you didn't respond, too shocked even despite the clues from earlier. "I have been hopelessly in love with you for as long as I can remember. That's why I didn't text you when I noticed you were pulling away. I spent years watching you love someone else from the sidelines because I had been too scared to tell you the truth in our teens, so when you stopped calling as often... I thought maybe it would be easier for me."

"Wait," you interjected, "it's been that long?" How had you missed all the signs for so many years? You thought you knew all of Scott's hidden tells, the smallest changes in his body language and tone of voice always betraying the emotions he often tried to hide. Yet, you had been blind to this emotion for so many years.

"Yes, that long." He replied, holding an accusative finger up when you opened your mouth to speak again. "If you even think about giving me some made-up reasons about why you think I shouldn't love you, I swear."

You clamped your mouth shut in response, a small part of you reveling in the knowledge that he knew you just as well as you knew him.

"I was terrified of ruining our friendship, so I never told you. I guess I thought it was better to have you as a friend than not have you at all, but watching you love him was agony." He continued, leaning ever closer to you. "Not just because I didn't have you, but because I could see that he never loved you back the way you deserved. He never appreciated the parts of you that needed it most, the ones that I know you were thinking about earlier."

"Like what?" Your breathing was coming out in small bursts now, the strength of his words stealing it from your chest.

"All of them. I loved hanging out alone with you because you didn't hide your body the same way you do in public. I loved getting to hear you laugh without thinking about its volume, I just loved all the parts you felt like you had to hide."

"Fuck, I even loved when you'd get nervous about something and pick the skin around your thumbs. I knew it was a bad habit that you hated about yourself, but I couldn't take my eyes off of you when you did it."

You looked down at your hands, the picked skin around your nails glaring back at you. It had always been a habit you hated about yourself, but you never realized someone else noticed you doing it. Any time you had brought it up to Kevin over the years, he always seemed surprised that you did it.

When you turned your head back to Scott, you became suddenly aware of how much space had disappeared between the two of you over the course of your conversation. Scott's thigh was pressed against yours, your noses brushing together when you looked up at him.

His eye contact was unblinking as his chest rose and fell deeply while he gazed at you. "If you don't feel the same, that's fine. But I've got to be honest, I don't know if I can go back to acting like this never happened." He licked his bottom lip slightly as his eyes fell to yours. "I haven't thought of a future without you in years, you've always been it for me. So if you don't want this-"

Additional words died in his throat when you moved your head to connect your lips to his, a desperate sound escaping his mouth instead. It was a quick moment of passion, your head pulling back almost as suddenly as it had moved forward.

Scott's lips followed yours needily, only reluctantly breaking the kiss when he could no longer hold it. His forehead rested on yours while you both breathed deeply, neither of you opening your eyes. You rested like this for a brief, charged moment, your mind racing to catch up with the actions of the body.

Fuck it. You had spent too long being a slave to your own expectations and playing it safe to let this moment pass you.

You pulled Scott's mouth back into yours, the long-dead butterflies in your stomach stirring in response. Kissing him was like slotting the final piece into a puzzle that had been plaguing you for years: a mix of excitement and confusion about how it took you so long to find it. Now that you had tasted him, you would have starved if you couldn't have him again.

Scott kissed you passionately, his strong arms snaked around your waist, pulling you into him like he wanted the feeling of your skin tattooed on him for the rest of his life. His calloused hands ran trails of shivers over your skin as they caressed the skin below your top, moving slowly like he intended to commit every part of you to memory tonight.

"You are so fucking beautiful, baby." He whispered when you pulled back for a short breath, a shaky laugh of disbelief escaping his lips. "I think I could die happy right now."

You giggled at him, the euphoria of the night making your head spin. Every action and word from him felt like it was setting you aglow and making every fibre of your being yearn for more. Scott wasn't the first man to call you beautiful or touch your body, but it had been so long since you had felt passion behind them that they struck even deeper.

He smiled softly at your laugh, leaning in for another taste of your lips. You pushed him back in a small surge of confidence, straddling his lap. You usually avoided any position that put you at a higher angle, but the look of awe on Scott's face erased any lingering worries about unflattering angles.

Every graze of his body against yours stoked the fire building within, making you push even closer to him to try and quell the increasing desire. His hands continued to leave featherlight touches on your back, pebbling your skin with goosebumps. You hadn't felt this in years; the feeling of desire and being desired was so distant in your memory that it made your chest burn with emotion.

Scott peppered kisses down your throat, pausing to focus on a spot when a needy noise escaped your mouth. The attention in his touch made your body flutter in response, an uncontrollable roll of your hips brushing your thighs against the hardness of his lap.

"Did I make you hard?" You asked, pulling back to look down at the tent in his pants.

Scott flashed you an unapologetic smile. "I've been dreaming of this for thirty-one years, I'm excited." You couldn’t help the giddy laugh from your chest at his words. A part of you was still amazed at the idea that someone like him could actually be this attracted to you.

"There's no expectations though," he continued, pulling you back down to kiss him. "I'll wait as long as you want me to."

Your heart skipped a beat in response, affection for him warming your body. You bit your lip in slight anticipation as you let one of your hands trail down his chest to softly palm him through his pants.

"Oh," he breathed, head dropping against the back of the couch. "Fuck."

Spurred by his reaction, you applied a bit more pressure with your hand, your lips beginning to explore his jawline and neck. Every sigh and shift of his hips felt like a symphony, the blissed-out look on his face as he reveled in your touch striking down to your core.

As if he could sense the joy you were getting out of seeing him in this position, Scott's eyes opened slightly. You gave him a teasing smile in response, a small noise escaping your lips when he grabbed your jaw to pull you in for a bruising kiss. Your groans deepened when his hand moved to the back of your head, pulling you impossibly closer to him. He held you like a drowning man on his last breath, like you might disappear if he loosened his grip too much.

You rolled your hips against his desperately, needily gasping when the tip of his cock rubbed your clit through your clothes. Suddenly, Scott gripped you tightly and threw you to your back on the couch. His body moved effortlessly with yours, an inhuman growl clawing its way out of his throat.

"I am going to lose my mind if you keep touching me like that," he panted, pulling back to look in your eyes. "If you don't want this, I want you to tell me right now, okay, baby? We can stop and just cuddle if that's what you want, but otherwise, I need to make sure the only name you remember is mine."

The way his blue eyes stared into your eyes as he checked on you, ensuring he wasn't overstepping your boundaries, might've just been one of the hottest things you had ever seen in your life.

"I really, really want this, Scott." You told him, guiding his hand to the soaked fabric of your bottoms. A low groan rumbled through him at the feeling, his fingers teasing your folds as he waited for those magic words. "Please, please touch me."

He lowered himself again to kiss you, a large hand groping at your breasts as you both, finally, gave in. Years of pent-up emotion and lust burst from your body, both of you a blur of searching hands and wandering lips as you rid yourselves of your tops.

"Fuck, wait." He sighed, pulling back slightly to rest his forehead on yours. "I don't have a condom."

"I'm on birth control and got a negative test after Kevin. I'm good if you are."

"Fuck," Scott moaned, lips wrapping your nipple as his fingers teased the other. "You're so fucking gorgeous. I could look at you all day."

You felt your face heat at his words, a denial on the tip of your tongue when he interrupted you.

"Do not even think about denying it." He grunted, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your body: the valley of your breasts, your stomach, your waist. "This is, quite literally, what my dreams are made of: your eyes, your smile, your tits, your tummy."

Scott continued his way down your body, stopping to punctuate every body part with a kiss. "And these thighs?" He continued, teeth sinking possessively into the flesh as you gasped and bucked your hips towards him in response. "I think they're my favourite."

Ragged breathes escaped at this point, his fingers teasing you relentlessly. He bit more marks into the insides of your thighs as he moved his fingers with purpose around your cunt, always coming close to giving you that touch you desired but darting away at the last second.

"Scott," you whined, a hand tugging impatiently at his hair.

"Hmm, what is it, baby?" The bastard had the audacity to smirk up at you from between your thighs, a smug glint reflecting in his eyes.

"I need you to touch me."

Scott hummed in response, the featherlight brush of his thumb against your clit enough to have you throwing your head back in pleasure. "I don't know if that was good enough..."

You huffed in annoyance, rolling your hips only to have him stop you with the grip of his hands on your thigh.

"C'mon, baby," he slurred, a cheek resting on your thigh as he looked at you. "Be a good girl and beg for what you want."

Normally, you'd probably have given him more pushback - but right now you felt like you might explode if you didn't get him soon. "Please touch me."

"Say my name."

"Please, Scott. I need your mouth, I need your tongue on my cunt right now. Please."

You could have cried in relief when you felt his fingers finally pull down your bottoms, a satisfied hum reverberating through your body as he kissed your clit quickly over the material.

"I always thought my name would sound prettier coming off those lips than 'Kevin,'" he said, wasting no time in licking a stripe through your folds that made you whimper his name again. "Now I know it's true."

You didn't even have time to open your mouth with a possible retort, all sensible thoughts freezing in their tracks as he wrapped his lips around your clit. You don't even want to think about how he got so good at oral, every movement stoking the flame in your lower belly like he had made you cum a thousand times. His lips and tongue worked in perfect tandem with each other, your face pressed into his pillow as he made you orgasm on two, and then three, fingers.

The hand not trying to stifle your noises with the pillow was threaded through his hair, teetering constantly between pulling his head closer to your core and pushing him away as he sent you hurtling towards a third orgasm. He hadn't even gotten his pants off yet, and you felt like your body was short-circuiting in pleasure.

Scott's tongue pushed into you, along with the three fingers he had already fit, another orgasm stealing the air from your lungs. You bit down on the pillow, wiggling helplessly against the grip around your thigh. You snuck a look at him between your legs, the sight enough to knock the little wind from you again

His dark hair was curling with sweat, the veins on his arm popping from the thrusting of his finger that hadn't ceased in minutes. His eyebrows furrowed together in focus on your pleasure, his groans sending aftershocks through your body as it vibrated your clit.

God, he was gorgeous.

Undoubtedly sensing your shameless staring, Scott's eyes opened to look at yours. His eyes were glazed over in pleasure, clearing having lost himself completely in the feeling of you. That shy voice inside of you whispered about the angle, but, for once, you couldn't hear it over the look of adoration in his eyes. Scott looked at you like he had a one-of-a-kind piece of art in front of him, not the face he had grown up with and, as you had always assumed, he would have grown bored of.

You smiled down at him, fingers threading through his hair to scratch at his scalp. If you had to, you think you could stay this entwined with him forever and be happy.

"Fuck, I can't stand it anymore. I need to fuck you, right now." Scott growled, finally pulling away from you to push his pants down his legs. You whimpered at the emptiness in their wake, clenching around nothing.

Not that you had to wait for long. Your mouth watered as you moved to your knees, watching as Scott’s cock was freed from his briefs and slapped against his stomach. The thick head was freely leaking pre-cum and all you wanted to do was wrap your lips around him and taste it.

"Take a picture; it'll last longer, " he teased, his hand resting on the back of your neck as he kissed you before pushing your face into the couch.

You pouted at him as he stood behind you, the tip of his cock pushing through the wetness coating your cunt. "You're not even going to give me a taste?"

"Mm, you want it that bad?" He asked, lightly slapping his head on your clit and making you jump.

"Please?" You begged, doing your best face for him.

He smiled at you, wrapping a hand around your throat to pull your back to his chest. "I promise next time I'll let you choke on my cock as much as you want, but right now I am barely holding on and I am not even inside of you yet."

You hummed in response, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I guess you just owe me then."

Scott smirked at you, his eyes telling you that he was already planning everything he'd do to you the next time he had you alone. "Now, are you going to be a good girl and be quiet for me or do I need to cover that pretty mouth with my hand?"

"I'd really like to say I'd be good, but I've got to be honest: I don't know if I can do that right now." Scott smiled at your confession, pressing one last sweet kiss to your lips before covering your mouth and pushing on your shoulder blades until your face was back on the cushions.

It only took a few thrusts for you to realize that you had made an excellent choice. Scott's half-bent-over angle to keep his hand around your mouth put him in the perfect spot to hit that mind-numbing spot inside of you. His other hand had a vice grip on the armrest, the shaky breaths behind you telling you that he was trying desperately to keep himself from losing it early.

You beckoned him closer to you, melting into his warmth as he pressed a kiss to your temple. The new angle had him moving in you in short, hard thrusts, bringing you to the precipice of another orgasm.

"Scott," you gasped, pulling his hand away from your mouth. "Please choke me."

He cursed under his breath, resting his body weight on his elbow as he gripped your throat and slipped his tongue into your mouth. His hips moved impossibly faster, combining with the pressure of his fingers on your clit to send your body into a frenzied orgasm, whimpering as your entire body shook with pleasure.

"Turn over for me, baby," Scott panted from behind you, hands already grasping at your hips. "I need to look at you while I fill you." Despite the hurried insistence of his words, Scott continued to take his time in his movements. His hand was gripping the base of his dripping cock to prevent himself from finishing, yet he couldn't stop himself from taking the extra seconds to slowly run his gaze over your body.

He finally leaned back down to kiss you, teasing your clit with the tip of his cock. A low chuckle rumbled through him at your frustrated grunts before taking mercy on you and pushing into you.

"Oh my god," you gasped, the stretch of him returning setting your entire body on fire. You had fully crossed into overstimulation by now, your senses completely enveloped by Scott's presence. The rest of the world had melted away, the only existence being the two of you on the couch.

"I know, baby," he said, kissing your throat. "You can take more though, right?" When you nodded in approval, he continued. "That's what I thought. Be a good girl for me and let me fill you up, okay, baby?"

Your sanity didn't stand a chance after that, everything blurring together as he kissed you. Your hands were all over each other, pulling each other as close as you could while his pelvis ground into your clit and wiped away the last of your coherent thoughts with near-constant orgasms.

It could have been seconds or hours before Scott grabbed your jaw, telling you to look him in the eyes while he came in you. His teeth were pulling at his bottom lip as he tried to quiet the moans making their way out of his throat as he reached his peak.

You were determined to commit the sight before you to memory: his head tipped back in ecstasy, mouth open as he tried to strangle the loud moan slipping through, thighs shaking with pleasure while he gripped yours so tightly you knew there would be finger-shaped bruises tomorrow. He dropped down into you too quickly, biting into your shoulder to quiet the noises he had now completely lost control over. His thrusts quickened, fucking himself through his orgasm, finally collapsing against you with a flurry of praises.

Neither of you moved after, content to just stay wrapped in each other's limbs for the moment. Scott's hand brushed lightly at your hip, settling himself on top of you.

"I promise I'll clean you up in a few minutes, I'm just-" He cleared his throat, shifting his weight slightly. "I'm dead. You killed me."

You giggled at his comments, kissing his cheekbone softly as you settled into him. The world slowed around you again, this time the focus staying on the feeling of his heartbeat and the slow, steady breaths as he continued to caress your body. Where Scott's touch during sex had been rough and passionate, his desire for you showing through his body, now he seemed to be taking his time in running his hands over you. It was like he was determined to commit every bump and divot to memory, becoming familiar enough that he'd still know their location after decades had passed.

He continued the slow movements even after grabbing a cloth from the bathroom to clean you up, soft kisses leading up the bruises on your thighs to your throat before giving you a chaste kiss.

You watched as he grabbed the sweatpants you had brought down earlier, readjusting the blanket and pillows that had been knocked to the side during the frenzy. As much as you tried to ignore it, those anxious thoughts crept back in. Not enough to fill you with doubt, but still leaving you feeling awkward as you watched him.

What were you supposed to do now?

You started mumbling something about getting back to bed, starting to pick up your discarded clothing but were stopped by his hand closing around your wrist.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked. When you pointed upstairs, like it was obvious that you were going to go back to your own bed now, he raised his eyebrow at you. "Do you think I'm some kind of asshole who would make you go sleep by yourself after all that?"

"I mean... It is more comfortable than the couch." You quipped back, some of the tension leaving your shoulders at the reassurance that his actions hadn't been a moment of poor judgment.

"Well, you haven't offered me your bed. Really, it's poor hosting on your part."

You paused in the midst of getting re-dressed, mouth gaping at him. "You know what? Fine. Stay on the couch, but I'm laying on top of you just to really maximize your uncomfortableness."

"Sounds good to me," he replied, opening the blanket and motioning for you to join him. "You're comfy enough to counteract the springs."

You smiled to yourself as you laid your head on his chest, melting into his embrace. "I really should go back to my room at some point though, in case one of our moms decides to wake up."

"I am pretty sure if they found us like this they'd throw another party to celebrate. I'm not entirely convinced that they haven't been secretly planning this for our entire lives."

"Do you really love all those things about me?" You asked, narrowing your eyes playfully at him. "Or did your mom put you up to all of this?"

"You caught me." He deadpanned. When you giggled at him, he tipped your chin up to look at him. "You could live a thousand lives and I would find and love you in every single one of them."

You were sure you could actually feel your heart bursting at his words, the warmth of adoration spreading through your whole body.

"I like the sound of that." You whispered, kissing him again.

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