ohdearfawn

now a little bit about me.

hi, welcome!! my name is aspen and i am coming back to writing after a 5 year hiatus. i span across several fandoms (stranger things, harry potter, off campus, obx, etc). and i only write female reader x character because it's what i enjoy and feel most comfortable doing. i also post whenever inspiration strikes, so updates are sporadic.

a tiny bit more, i will not and do not engage in any content discussing politics. but i will say, i do not like a lot of what's happening politically right now. everyone deserves equal rights, justice, dignity, and the freedom to live as themselves. people in positions of power should be held accountable for the impact of their actions, and i hope we move toward a more just world.

more personal stuff about me on my other blog - @aspenafterdark

He pushes the chair back and walks towards the garage, yelling to whoever is inside. The sleeves on his coveralls are rolled up, veins prominent through his forearms. If it isn’t the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. He turns back and reaches for the main door, holding it open for you. “Show me the way.”

You walk in front of him, the scent of your perfume filling his nose. It’s so sweet and uniquely matches you. It could replace the oxygen in his lungs and he wouldn’t complain.

“This is mine." You pat the car and unlock the door. Your parents bought it used and it’s lasted you since sophomore year of high school. Frankly, you’re surprised it hasn’t given out yet.

He walks around the outside looking for any signs of damage. The paint is smooth and finely waxed. "Not even a scratch on her, huh?"

“Nope.” You open the door and he slides in. The seat is worn, steering wheel leather equally used. He starts the engine and it sounds just fine—until, the system finishes calibrating and ringing rapidly.

You point at the dash. “See, it's all of that stuff." Some of the icons make sense, while others had to be there so the company could make money. "I had my oil changed last week."

He leans back. “Not here I’m assuming.” His gaze clicks to yours. “I would've remembered a pretty face like yours."

You blink twice, lips parting softly. "It was the shop by campus.”

His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth disapprovingly. "Ah, see that's why you gotta come to us. We'll take care of all your needs. Not just an oil change."

Nerves buzz beneath your skin. You glance down at the gravel, poorly hiding the pink staining your cheeks. A hand runs through your hair, pushing it up and out of your face. It's undeniably worth a couple hundred of bucks to see this man more than once.

“What time are you available till?"

The corner of his mouth curls upwards, legs spreading in the seat. He bites back his tongue. Most girls don't flirt back, let alone fight fire with fire.

A loud pop rings through the air and steam simmers from the hood. He jumps out of the car and you instinctively step behind him. Warning chimes echo through the car as every light imaginable flashes across the display.

You want to say something but you also don't want to face the reality of what's happening. The engine sputters one last time before going quiet. Damn.

You open the backdoor of the car and sitting down. The air freshener suddenly smells weary, fabric on the walls a darker shade than before. Maybe you should’ve knocked on wood earlier.

“I’m gonna take a look." He glances over to you his heart tugs. He'll fix the damn thing himself if it meant seeing you smile again.

He reaches into the driver's seat, popping the hood. The gloves in his pocket cover his hands painfully well. You wish he would take them off again—it would make you feel better.

Gravel crunches beneath your shoes as you follow him. His hands sort through the engine without hesitation. There's something about seeing a man know what he's looking for that makes your head spin.

His lips purse as fluid drips down his arm, absorbing into the glove. "Yeah, just as I thought." He pulls his hands out and throws off the gloves. "She's not going anywhere today."

You sigh, “I think I could’ve figured that out on my own Mr. Mechanic.”

He can't tell if you're pissed at him or the car. Either way, he knows a solution to one of those problems. He shakes his head and taps his name tag. “Not Mr. Mechanic. John Logan.”

The name clicks in your head. He plays hockey for your school and is always plastered on social media. You've also heard the endless speeches on him being a womanizer. Best orgasm you'll ever have—or something like that. “I know who you are.”

“And yet, I don’t know who you are."

”Right now," your lips curl upwards into a smile, "I'm an unsatisfied customer."

He steps back, closing the hood of the car. The dark blue fabric pulls taut across his biceps. "Okay unsatisfied customer. What could I do to satisfy you?" His gaze lingers on your lips a second too long. "I have a few ideas of my own—if you want to give them a try."

And that's how you ended up in the backseat of your car with Logan.

Any care for the fact he’s still on the clock is out the window. His face is buried between your thighs and hasn’t come up for air in close to three minutes. But he doesn’t want to—you’re as sweet as you look.

He sticks his tongue further inside of you, eyes peering up. You’re blissed out—cheeks flushed, lips red from the makeout session previous to this. You're genuinely one of the most beautiful women he's ever seen.

He finds your sweet spot with ease and hooks his forearms around your thighs. This is ranking number one on your list hottest things a guy has even done in bed—even if you’re not in bed.

His tongue takes advantage of the spot, massaging it with precision. You cry out, nails clawing into the leather seats. The cars already broken, a little more damage won’t hurt. His grip grows tighter as you squirm, pacing slowing enough to withdraw an orgasm.

You look down and make eye contact with him. The smirk on his face is nothing less than devilish.

“Logan, please, please, please, I can’t—“

He pulls away and your body relaxes into the leather. “Is it too much? Too…good?”

Another wave of arousal courses through you. His cockiness was nothing less than a turn on.

He chuckles, attaching around your clit and sucking hard. The sounds leaving your chest are lewd and embarrassing but it fills his chest with pride. Majority of the women he sleeps with fake their moans for his pleasure and the guys tease him about it. If only they could see him now.

Your back arches, hips trying to move but he’s too strong—damn those flawless biceps. His tongue draws figure eight's against the nub, applying the perfect amount of pressure.

With one final circle, you come undone all of his face. He effortlessly lifts your thighs, slotting his mouth directly over your opening. Every last drop is licked from your skin. By the time he's done, a tear streams down your cheek from the overstimulation.

He frowns and rises to meet you at eye level. You can smell the woodsy cologne he wears and the motor oil clinging on his skin. It’s intoxicating and incomparable to anyone else. He wipes the tear away, leaving soft kisses where it fell. Each one is so gentle and reverent, your skin might as well be blessed.

His mouth follows the specks on your skin until he reaches your bra. It’s his favorite color with white lace peeking out of the seams. He cups the sides, fingers ghosting over where your nipples are. You reach underneath your back to take it off but he swats you away. All it takes him is one attempt and the tension breaks loose around your ribs.

He throws it into the trunk before attaching his mouth to your breast. There’s no question on whether hickies will be there tomorrow. The side not getting his mouth has his fingers. They flick the nipple back and forth, pinching it softly.

Your hand slips into the waistband of his boxers and grabs his cock. He’s hard as a rock and fucking huge. There’s no way he’s going to fit inside of you.

You smear slick from the tip and pump him slowly. His mouth falter in its movements, groans turning into moans. You’d be lying if you said they weren’t the most gorgeous sounds you’d ever heard from a man.

His hips buck into your hand and he stops you. “Can I fuck you?"

“I was starting to think you'd never ask.” You shoot a playful glare.

He reaches into his work uniform pocket, pulling out a foil wrapper.

Your shoulders still. "Do you always have a condom in there?"

“Only when I see pretty girls like yourself come along." He winks and slides off his boxers.

“And how often does that happen?" You perk up an eyebrow and shift so your back is against the car door.

He tears the package open with his teeth and rolls it on. "Well, today is the first day. But maybe tomorrow if I’m lucky."

You snicker and he crawls up to you.

“How do you want me?” he hums against your skin.

“However gets you inside of me.” You sound more desperate than you meant but the way he looking at you makes it well worth it.

He positions himself so that his back is flat against the seats, legs crammed around you. It exposed the muscles in his thigh and you’d be content riding that instead—maybe another day.

He grabs his dick and pumps it once. “Come ride me baby.”

“God, yes please.”

He bites back a laugh, anticipation growing in his stomach. He can’t tell if it’s nerves or excitement—it’s like that before game feeling—but the warmth of your hands on his chest eases it.

The car is so cramped, it doesn’t allow much room for you to sit comfortably. You awkwardly position yourself over him, trying to ignore the arousal dripping down your thighs.

“Logan,” you sigh.

His eyes shoot up from between your legs, face coated in worry as he sees yours. “Not comfortable?”

Your head shakes side to side. The car seat crunches as you both shift around. He sits in the seat, legs spread wide and you straddle him.

“Better?” His eyebrow hops up.

You grin and line him up with you. “Definitely.”

”Take it slow.” His voice is laced with sincerity, all the confidence from earlier gone. “I don't care about my pleasure. It’s whatever makes you feel good."

You nod and sink down quickly. He stretches you out so much—no amount of foreplay could've prepared you for this. Glancing up, he looks just as overwhelmed as you are. You’re so tight around him, he has to think of Dean to stop him from cumming.

His hand caresses your back softly and your head falls into the crook of his neck.

"You ready for me to move?” you whisper, leaving a kiss below his ear.

His heart pounds through his ribs, hopefully you can’t feel it. “Yeah. Only if you’re ready.”

You nod and lift up, pausing as you reach the tip. As you sink down, the stretch isn't as bad as before but your nails still dig into his biceps. Moans rattle through the car, hopefully no one is on the outside. You reposition so your hands on holding onto his shoulders.

He's looking up at you like you'll disappear any second. Though, for once you feel seen.

You both breathe in sync and his grip on your ass firms. He lifts you up again, lowering you down slower than before. He's never been this gentle before, but for a reason he can't figure out—it feels right with you.

“Keep going,” you whisper. You guide a strand of hair out of his eyes and rest your forehead on his gingerly.

The pace is stays slow but you can feel all of him. With each thrust, he groans and you moan softly. The side of his face burns underneath your palm.

Your moans grow into short gasps as shifts forward in the seat. He’s so much deeper inside of you this way. His name falls off your lips over and over and it makes his head spin.

Your nails digging into his shoulders as a warmth spreading through your body. You clench around him and his self restraint reaches it’s end. He circles your sensitive clit fast causing your legs to tremble.

He watches your expression and it softens his own. He rests his mouth beneath your chin, whispering, "Let go baby, I got you. Let me feel you."

He fills you as deep as possible and for a moment there's no telling where you end and he begins. You cry out, body trembling through your orgasm. His fingers press into your pelvis, muscles shuddering underneath you as he cums too.

All your weight collapses into him and the seat, cramming both of you into each other. He can feel your ribs press into his with each breath.

"Christ sweetheart. That was..." He laughs under his breath. "I don't even know."

The nickname makes your heart flip. Only then does it occur to you that he doesn't actually know your name, you never told him. It rolls off your tongue faster than you can stop it and his breathing stutters.

He repeats it once out loud and a million times in his head.

"I'm pretty sure that's the name of the girl I'm going out with this weekend,” his voice drips with confidence.

Your face flashes with surprise. “Is it really?"

"Yeah, I mean—she has yet to let me know if she wants to go. But I'm pretty sure she does."

You bite your tongue gently. “I bet she would love to."

He chuckles and clears his throat. “I think I'll have to drive her though. If she doesn't mind that.”

Your eyebrows furrow, head shifting back until you hit his shoulder. "I don't think she does. How come though?"

“I got distracted by this really pretty girl coming into the shop and now it’s going to take me an extra day to fix her car.”

“Damn, does she at least get a discount?”

He places a tender kiss on your forehead. “She'll get it for free.”

You smile before you can stop yourself. “Lucky girl.”

His hair tickles your skin as he shakes his head back and forth. “No, if anything I’m the lucky guy.”

"You played so well tonight." Your thumb rubs the side of his bicep.

"Thank you for coming and supporting me.” His lips linger against your forehead.

"Of course. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

He sighs contently, gaze drifting down. "My jersey looks good on you." He lifts your arm up and you do a spin for him. "Really fuckin' good."

Your heart pounds through your ribs.

He ducks his head beside your ear. "I don't know if I'll be able to keep my hands off of you until we get home."

Your lips part, cheeks heating up. He grabs your waist and pins you against the hood of his bronco. The car beside you pulls out and they honk at you.

You grab the side of his jaw and bring his mouth to yours. The kiss is far beyond innocent or appropriate for a public setting. Your free hand travels to the back of his head, nails clawing through his hair. He groans and grabs a handful of your ass.

You both are so caught up in each other that you fail to notice the people walking by. A whistle flows through the air and you pull away, glancing over. Garrett, Logan, Tucker, Hannah, and Allie are scattered throughout the lot, hopping into cars. Dean is headed in a straight line towards you.

He throws his hands up in the air. "If you're going to put on a free show, don't stop on my behalf."

You squint at him and Beau steps back. He walks over and pulls him in for a quick hug. They exchange quick compliments regarding the game and Dean shoots a wink at you—hinting to the double meaning. Beau gives his chest a shove, forcing Dean back a step.

A black jeep sounds its horn across the lot reminding Dean of his reason to come over. "Party at my house tonight. Be there." He starts to walk backwards while pointing a finger at you. "Don't distract him…too much."

You roll your eyes. ”We'll be there. Bye Dean."

Beau blows him a kiss through the air and turns back to you. He attempts to resume what Dean interrupted but you stop him.

"You heard the man. Party." You poke his chest.

He pouts, eyes begging, but you don't give in. Instead, you walk over to the passenger side of the car. He opens the door and helps you in. The sight of his last name stretched across your back makes his breath hitch. Garrett honks again as he drives by snapping him back to reality.

He walks around, sliding into the drivers seat. The bronco hums to life, cool air blowing softly onto the two of you. You close your eyes and sigh at the feeling, it was exactly what you needed after being outside for hours. The sound makes his brain short circuit.

You expect him to drive off or even buckle his seat belt, but neither of those come. When you turn toward him, his attention is glued to you.

"You feeling alright?" Your eyebrows furrow. "I can drive home if you need. We don't have to go to the party."

"No, I'm fine." His grip is rough against the inside of your thigh. "You're just gorgeous...so unreal."

A heat simmers low in your belly and you squeeze your thighs together. His jaw clenches, thumb gliding across your thigh. His other hand cups your face, bringing it to him.

He meets you in the middle, tongue pressing into your mouth instantly. The kiss is filthier than the last. The hand on your thigh reaches underneath you and grabs your ass. He murmurs something incoherent. You pull back and tilt your head.

He smirks and pats his lap. You get the hint, kicking off your shoes. He grabs your waist and helps guide you over the center console.

Once on his lap, you can't help but laugh. The space is so small and forces you to be completely against him. He smiles and gently holds your face, kissing the tip of your nose.

"I love you," he whispers. His grip drops down to your lower back.

You bite your lip. "I love you more."

You reach down and pull the lever causing the seat to fall back. Both of you giggle and get comfortable. Your hips accidentally grind against his and the laughter quickly turns into a groan. He's painfully hard and being able to feel your warmth isn't helping. You rock your hips, nails digging into his shoulders.

"Oh fuck baby." His eyes roll back as you continue. The back windows of the car have already started to fog despite the car running.

Headlights beam in as another car passes and you stop.

He glances up. "What's wrong?"

"What if someone sees us?"

“I don’t think anyone will." His face is full of certainty. "But we can stop if you want."

You glance around the lot. Two cars sit unoccupied in the corner and it's probably the janitors.

“No.” You clit pulses. “I need you now.”

You lean down and press your lips to his again. He grabs your ass and grinds against you.

"Your skirt." Beau says between kisses.

You attempt to take it off but the lack of room makes it surprisingly difficult. He smiles sympathetically, suggesting to turn around. You face the steering wheel and it's much easier this way. He also gets a perfect view of your ass. You turn to face him but he stops you.

"Stay facing that way." His fingers drag across your shoulder blades. "You look so good wearing my name. I wanna see it while I'm inside of you."

You hold onto the dashboard as he pushes down his shorts and boxers as far as possible. The leather is slick against your knees making it difficult to stay in the seat. Luckily, he grabs your hips and guides you backwards before you slide too far.

“Ride me baby.”

You hum and reach for his cock. It’s heavy in your palm and drenched in fluid. He helps line it up with your pussy, shaky breaths leaving him as your arousal coats the tip further. His jaw drops slack as you lower onto him.

You pause and wait for the stretch to subside. Once it does, you can fully feel him inside. There’s not an inch he doesn’t touch. “So…full.”

“Uh-huh.” His fingers tighten around your hips, guiding you up slowly. “And so fuckin' tight.”

You take a second to breathe before lifting and sinking back down. You both moan much louder than you should, but it's not like anyone is around to hear. You continue the movement, holding onto the steering wheel for balance. His body trembles as you squeeze him.

You try to speak but the words only come out in incoherent increments. Normally, he would tease you but tonight, it's too much. He bucks into you, tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot.

Your head falls forward, body trembling under the force of him and your orgasm approaching. He can feel it and slides a finger down to your clit, circling hard.

The combined effort sends you over the edge. You gush around him with a final thrust, he cums inside of you. Your body shudders as it hits your walls, filling you more than he already does.

Slowly, he lowers you down onto his chest. You both breathe heavily, coming down from the high. The windows are covered in fog and you reach up drawing a heart in the corner.

He chuckles and turns to face you, lips brushing against your hair. “We're definitely not making it to that party.”

The thought of him sneaking away simply to see you makes your heart jump with joy.

“Does my brother know you're in here?”

"Of course not. He'd murder me himself if he found out." He smirks as the door lock clicks beneath his fingers. "But, I wouldn't come all this way just to hang out with your brother."

"Yeah because going three streets over is so far."

You roll your eyes before moving over, creating a spot for him. The blanket falls as you shift, revealing more. His eyes linger on the pink glow caressing your cheeks but as they move down his cock twitches in his pants. Your nipples are poking through the sheer fabric, hardly serving a purpose. His breath shallows as he thinks about how they felt around his tongue and the sounds you made as he—

“Earth to Dean. Are you just going to stand there staring at me all night?” You giggle and he walks over, throwing the blankets off completely.

A gasp overtakes the giggling as his hands wrap around your ankles, pulling you to the end of the bed.

"Has anyone ever told you how effortlessly sexy you are?”

You smile, head falling back onto the sheets. His lips place reverent kisses up your legs, starting at your ankles and it all feels so familiar. Your eyes close, mind flashing back to the night you and Dean had gotten drunk together. He spent the entire night with you—not just at the party, but also in his bed after.

Every party after that night, you tried to hook up with other people—but you couldn't. You lied in bed wondering how he had ruined everyone else for you and if he even remembered it. By the 7th party, you finally worked up the courage to ask him, but he was shit-faced and couldn't even say 'hello' coherently. So, you swore to yourself in the bathroom mirror that you would never think about him again. But then he shows up at your house, and you're the one he wants.

Fuck.

Your mouth opens, but all that comes out is his name. He repeats yours back between whispered compliments that remind you why moving on from him was impossible. He sucks harshly on your inner thighs, leaving red marks that'll bruise purple tomorrow. You wish he could stay here forever—especially if keeps him from being with anyone else.

Has he been with anyone else?

The scent of your arousal floods his senses, making his mouth water. "Can I taste you?" He kisses your underwear. "Please."

Your shiver as his breath tickles your skin. "You don't even have to ask."

His tongue clicks on the roof of his mouth as one finger pulls the fabric aside. "I always ask."

"Dean." You lift your head to look at down at him and his eyes drink you in. "Take them off please."

"Yes ma'am." His fingers slide down the underwear, tossing them into the pile of dirty clothes.

"You're such a gentleman sometimes. You know that?"

"Only for you." He licks a stripe up to your clit and you let out a breathy moan. "Stay quiet for me. We don't need your brother waking up and catching us."

"Please, don't talk about my brother while you're between my legs."

He chuckles before devouring you. His tongue doesn't miss a spot. It circles your clit before diving in deep and massaging your walls, searching for the spot that makes you slip. He knows he's close but it's been so long since he's gone down on you, let alone anyone else.

His body stills and you whine. His eyes peer up at you quickly before his mouth returns to work. It had been two months since he had slept with you and in those two months, he hadn't slept with anyone.

Have you slept with anyone else since then?

His tongue drifts less than a centimeter down and your thighs squeezing his head so tight, it muffles any sounds. Your other hand pulls his hair causing his hips to instinctively hump the mattress, making it creak. He continues on that spot not aware of the sounds you, or the bed, are making.

The hand you had covering your mouth left, grasping onto the pillows behind you. You'd given up on being quiet and were now doing everything in your power to keep yourself from riding his face.

His hips continue humping the mattress, he feels like a pathetic virgin again but it's too good to stop. Something about the way your thighs squeeze his head, the taste of you on his tongue, the softness of your skin on his lips, and the thought doing this forever—especially if keeps you from being with anyone else.

Fuck.

His balls tighten, orgasm approaching too fast. He slides two fingers into you and pump them to the rhythm of his thrusts. The mattress shifts back causing the tip of his cock to hit the seam in his boxers just right. He groans loudly into you, tongue pressing hard against your clit.

You scream, hips rolling up as your orgasm overrides your senses.

On the other side of the house, the noise had woken up your brother. At first, he thought it was some stupid movie. He had texted you to turn it down but no reply came. As he lies there trying to fall back to sleep, a faint scream sends him on high alert.

He musters up all the courage he can and takes it upon himself to make sure you're okay. An old baseball bat hangs on his shoulder and the floorboards creak with each step he takes.

He reaches your room and all he can hear is heavy breathing. His hands tremble as he slowly pulls down the doorknob but it doesn't open. He takes a deep breath, walking backwards until he hits the opposing wall. One foot stands in front of the other as he talks himself up to what needs to do.

The hinges of the door give way as he batters through it and you scream for real this time. Dean scrambles to his feet, hands awkwardly covering the front of his pants.

Your brothers face turns from scared to angry faster than you can process.

"DEAN, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MY SISTERS ROOM?"

He turns and faces you, eyes widening before he covers them.

"WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU NAKED WITH DEAN IN YOUR ROOM?"

You grasp around frantically trying to grab the blanket but Dean had pushed them too far away. You snap at him to give you a blanket but he doesn't budge. Instead, his face grows red and an annoyed groan leaves his chest.

"DEAN SEBASTIAN KEN—"

"OKAY!"

He reaches over grabbing one from the floor and your eyes travel to the spot he was hiding. It's damp and aligned perfectly to where his cock would sit. It's almost as if he—your jaw drops. He looks at you, eyebrows furrowing.

"How do you know my middle name?"

"Dean, are you seriously trying to distract from the fact you came in—"

"I'M LITERALLY RIGHT HERE!" Your brother yells.

You regret asking the question as his breathing shallows, shoulders tense again.

“Yeah…It was a little rough.”

“I’m sorry.”

Your apology softens him enough that he presses a kiss to your forehead. It really shouldn’t be you apologizing. If anyone, it should be the idiots at work.

The TV light flickers once again stealing his attention. “What’re you watching?”

“I don’t know, some new romance Nancy wouldn’t stop talking about.”

He chuckles at the thought of you actually being able to sit through this. One line of dialogue is enough for him to scoff.

“This show is horrible.”

You laugh, cheeks heating up. “I know, I know.”

You peek around his shoulder and watch the show with him. The characters are alone in a bedroom, both tipsy but desperate for each other.

Steve’s breath hitches as the couple begins touching each other. So much for hating romance. Moans rattle through the speakers and heat floods your face. All you can think about are those noises coming from him. Your hands trace his spine, but he pays no mind, eyes glued on the screen.

You rack your brain for a way to steal his attention, but your hand makes the decision before you do. It unbuttons his pants, dipping into his boxers. You grab his cock and run your thumb over the tip.

He jerks back, head slamming on the door. “Fuck, what are you—”

“Shhh. Just relax.” You drop to your knees, pulling his pants and boxers down so that they pool at his ankles.

“I can’t relax when you—” your tongue licks from the base of his cock to the tip, “—oh fuck.”

You hum sending his nerves into shock. One hand meets the back of your hair, but he doesn’t tug or push down like usual—he allows you to take control.

A grin forms as you gag around him, spit dribbling down the corners of your mouth and onto his shoes. He should’ve taken them off by now, but with the way you’re sucking him, he couldn’t care less.

His hips stutter, curses filling the room both from him and the mind-numbing show on the TV. You pull back, taking a breath, before forcing yourself as far down as possible. Your throat spasms around him and, without warning, he cums down the back of your throat. He’s salty but somewhat sweet, the taste has never bothered you much.

His hips and hand lock you in place for longer than comfortable, air in your lungs dissipating. The release seeping down the back of your throat only suffocates you more. You smack his thigh roughly and he snaps out of the daze, dragging you off of him. He peers down at you, pupils blown out.

“Fuckkk, that cured me doll. I should take you to work with me so you can do that all day.”

He hooks his hands underneath your arm, lifting you onto your feet. You meet gaze with teary eyes and a smile he could never forget.

“Let me return the favor to you now. I’ll make you feel better.” He scoops you up and carries you to the bed.

“God, you’re so strong. Muscles so big.” You trace the ridge of his bicep.

He tosses you down with a chuckle. The TV shuts off meaning you must’ve landed on the remote, or it felt the same way about the show and turned itself off.

You giggle glancing back at him before letting your legs fall apart. Cold air rushes across your skin, exposing the lack of clothes on your lower half.

“I can’t control myself when you do shit like this.” His hands drag the skin on his face down. “Fuck me.”

“No, Steve. Fuck me.”

“Just spend the night.” He groans, flipping onto his back.

You glance at the empty side of the bed. “I can’t.”

“But you always spend the night.” He sits up.

“Not tonight.” The floorboards squeak as you walk towards the window.

He falls backwards dramatically, lips forming into a pout. “Why not?”

“It's not a good idea for me to sleep over anymore.” You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and sit on the exposed window ledge.

“Since when?” He rolls off the bed, crossing the room. “You’ve been sleeping over since—God knows when, and it’s a Saturday night.”

“Yeah, a Saturday night where you should be wasted by now or sleeping with someone. Not watching some stupid movie with me. You’re captain of the football team for god’s sake. Things are supposed to change, Beau. Evolve even."

He scoffs before sitting down and undoing the laces on your shoes. “What are you talking about?”

You attempt to swat his hand away but he persists.

“Sleeping in the same bed was fine when we were kids, high school was pushing it, but we're in college now.”

“We’ve been in college for 2 years.” He takes off both shoes and places them behind his back.

You sink down beside him. “In the 2 years we’ve been here, you’ve also managed to sleep with half the female population.”

“What?”

“You know, sex, hookups, making out with—”

“What does that have to do with you sleeping over?”

You roll your eyes. “I gotta go.”

Both legs swing over the window ledge but before you can reach the ladder, he grabs your waist dragging you into his lap.

“No, don't hit and run. Come on. Explain yourself.”

“I just think our hormones…more specifically yours—” the position you’re in comes to your attention and you shimmy away. “—are destined to alter our relationship. And I'm trying to limit the fallout.”

He can’t help but grin. “Your hormones aren’t developing a thing for me, are they?”

Your breathing stops momentarily, jaw dropping. “A thing?”

He nods and your stomach twists.

Your tongue runs over your teeth. “I'm not getting a thing for you, Beau. I've known you too long. Which means I'm definitely not getting a thing for you.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Then what's the problem?”

“We're changing and we have to adjust. Or else the male-female thing will get in the way.”

“What is with this? Did your friends say something or—or did you meet some new guy?”

“No.”

“Then, what is it?”

You take a deep breath and shrug.

His hands run through his hair, brain racking through what might be causing this. But as you look around the room, the photos of the two of you on his nightstand stick out at you.

“What do you do with the photos of us when you have a girl over?” Your words cut off his train of thought.

“Huh?” He follows your gaze. “I-I don’t do anything, it just stays there.”

“So—” You can’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?” He covers his face, still stressed. “How could you be thinking about that right now?” But as you continue laughing, the tension in his shoulders eases.

“You know, the odds of some girl cumming while looking at that photo of us is probably so high.”

He takes one glance at you before breaking out in laughter. He can’t believe that is what you're thinking about right now. A tear streams down your cheek.

“That is a horrible thing for you to say,” he says, struggling for air.

“Right, of course.” You throw your hands up, “You can’t even make a girl cum.”

You laugh harder but his laughter dies down, expression serious as ever.

“Oh, trust me, I’m the best orgasm they’ll ever have.”

“Lie to yourself all you want. Dean could probably—.”

“Dean, could probably what?” He looks exasperated. “How would you know anything about Dean?”

“Freshman year, remember? I was practically the entry point to his womanizer era.”

You smile at the memory, but he looks irritated.

What you didn’t know was Beau was supposed to be Dean that night. The night you and Dean had slept together. In fact, he had orchestrated the whole thing in hopes to finally make his move. He was the one that encouraged you to dance while he made your favorite drink—which Dean stole and brought to you on the dance floor. He even rehearsed the words to say to you with Dean countless times that day—the same words Dean used that led you to his bedroom.

Beau could also remember the conversation you had with him at Malone’s the next morning. The way you described the night, every detail as if it was nothing personal, like he didn't want to be more than your best fried, let alone, he wasn’t the reason any of it had happened.

He sighs deeply and you raise an eyebrow, failing to figure out what he’s thinking, you’ve never seen this look.

His eyes grow as dark as his tone. “I am better than Dean.”

A cool breeze flows over your head, reminding you that you should’ve left long ago—things never should’ve escalated this far—but your body stays where it’s at.

“Beau—”

He crawls over on his knees, “I am, I really am.”

“Beau, what are you—”

His lips crash onto yours, knocking the words right off of your tongue. As if instinct, your lips part, meeting his cadence. Inside of you, a warmth spreads between your legs. He hums, licking your bottom lip before sliding his tongue into your mouth. The warmth spreads, overpowering anything that could tell you this is wrong.

He pulls back and both of you sharply inhale, eyelids fluttering. Everything around feels like it’s spinning but looking at him makes it all go away. You smile and thread your fingers through the hair on the nape of his neck. His lips curl upwards as you smile against him, letting yourself sink into the moment.

His lips meet yours again, but this time he’s gentler, more patient. You can feel the happiness on his face, but can also hear the quietest hums as you play with his hair.

His hands curl around your waist firmly and he breaks the kiss to flip you over, so that you’re hovering above his upper thighs.

You lower yourself down, knees squeezing the sides of his hips. His head falls as you reach the tent in his sweatpants, and you can’t help but chuckle. Your hips instinctively sway, searching for friction and his eyes roll back, mouth falling open.

You fake a pout he can’t see before tilting his head further and kissing down his neck. His breath hitches with each sensitive spot you reach and you take the time nipping and sucking, leaving red marks. He whimpers softly and your clit throbs.

His hands press down, forcing both of your hips to collide. The seam of your sweatpants presses itself on your clit as you align perfectly with his cock.

The next roll of your hips drenches both of you in pleasure. His hips buck up, hands grasping you tight enough to leave bruises tomorrow. You can feel all of him beneath you and a breathy moan leaves your lips, head falling to his shoulder while his head flies back, hitting the wall roughly.

Your name leaves his throat like a prayer and all you can do is hum in response. His chin hits the top of your head as he looks down at you.

“I need all of you. Please let me—”

“Yes, please,” you whine.

He lifts your hips with no effort, sliding down your shorts and panties. His attention catches on the gleam of your arousal as it connects between you and the fabric.

A guttural groan leaves his chest, vibrating through you.

“You’re so fucking wet.”

You peck his neck in response before helping him slide off the clothes completely. Your arms lift up as he grabs the bottom hem and raises it over your head.

He memorizes each inch of exposed skin and before you can lower your arms, his mouth covers your nipple, teeth tugging slightly.

Your hands grab onto the window sill, knuckles white as his tongue circles around each tit, giving equal time to each. Small breathy whimpers fill the air as your clit throbs harder, desperate for attention.

He notices and before you can ask, one finger drifts through your wetness, collecting it and spreading it on top of your clit.

“Oh Beau,” you moan.

His finger circles around at just the right pace, and just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he adds one more. Your thighs shake, head dizzy with pleasure.

His words vibrate on your skin as he speaks, “Please let me taste you.”

Your body moves before the words leave your mouth. “Yes, please, please,” you beg.

He chuckles, taking off his shirt before lying down. You run one finger along his abs, tracing out each.

“Come here already. I might die if you don’t.”

“Always so dramatic.”

You walk on your knees until you’re hovering above his mouth. He roughly hooks an arm around your hips, dragging you onto his mouth, immediately lapping like he’s dying of thirst.

His groans are muffled but you can feel them as they travel inside of you. The stubble on his chin scratches your lips and your head falls onto the window sill, hips bucking as he shoves his tongue inside.

More lewd moans bounce throughout the room and out of the window as his nose rubs your clit. Anyone with their windows open could definitely hear, if they hadn’t heard through the walls already.

Behind you, one of Beau’s hands had snaked its way under his sweatpants and was now skillfully pumping up and down, using the precum as lubrication.

He’s embarrassingly desperate for this, but it’s not like he hasn’t been thinking about it for years. All the nights he would stare at the photo of you on his nightstand while fucking another girl. It was wrong, but he couldn’t care.

The pressure builds as he sucks on your clit, one hand reaches down tugging on his hair. You throb, sucking him in, and his cock twitches at the thought of you doing that around him. Your fingers grow close to pulling out his hair as the coil tightens in your lower abdomen but right before it snaps, he lifts you off, gasping for air.

Your head flies back, tears welling. Before any words of protest can be spoken, he pulls you down and silences you with another kiss. His legs kick off his sweatpants entirely, joining the pile of your clothes.

Another breeze flows in, draping the both of you with goosebumps despite how hot the room has become. The upper window is now fogged and the DVD player makes weird noises across the room.

“Should we move to the bed?”

He shakes his head, murmuring against your lips, “No, just stay right here.”

Your eyelashes flutter across his cheeks and he smiles.

“Do you want me to put on a condom?”

Your heart skips a beat at the very thought of him being inside of you bare, but your brain overrides, reminding you he’s been with plenty of other women.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” You swing your leg over, sitting next to him.

He scrambles towards his drawer, praying no one outside is watching or else they’ll get a surprise show. The foil crinkles and he rolls it on with ease. His dick is flushed, vein pulsing slightly. It’s girthy and bigger than you’ve seen but if you had to tell the truth—

“Don’t stare at my dick.”

Your hands cover your vision playfully, a giggle escaping. “I can’t help it. You’re perfect.”

He suppresses a laugh and shuts the curtains before kneeling down in front of you. His hands move yours out of the way.

“You’re perfect.”

He kisses the tip of your nose, peppering more until reaching your belly button. He peers up, hands coming to your thighs and sliding you down. His legs spread as yours slot between them.

He comes up leaving wet kisses in his path. His hands cage each side of your head, hands caressing your hair.

“Tell me if you need to me to stop.”

You scoff, “I can handle you. I'm not a virgin.”

He shakes his head before lining himself up with you.

Your arousal coats the tip of the condom completely and he slides in with ease, filling you faster than he meant to. Both of you moan loudly, bodies trembling in sync with each other. Your walls clench sucking him in and his hands pull on the roots of your hair. His face scrunches up, lips parting with soft breaths escaping.

“Please, move. Please.”

His hips pull back before thrusting in. Your hands search desperately for something to grab, settling on his biceps. Each sound that leaves your lips causes his pace to increase, but it just isn’t enough.

You tap his skin softly. “Beau, I can’t.”

He stops completely, pulling out quickly, and backing off.

“I’m sorry, I—”

You lean forwards, shaking your head vigorously. “No, no, I’m sorry. I-” You sigh deeply. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just can’t…I can’t cum like that.”

His brows furrow, shoulders tense.

One hand reaches forward and grabs the bottom of the condom, sliding it off of him. His breathing stops as you toss it into the trashcan by the bookshelf.

You lean forward placing one palm on his cheek and kiss him again, pushing him so he rests against the frame of the bed. You grab his cock, lining it up so that the head presses lightly on the entrance of your pussy.

You don’t get to ask him if it’s okay before his hips thrust up, slamming himself into you. The angle is deep and you can feel him entirely. Your hips fall with his, settling on the floor once again.

Rolling forward, you test the waters and he groans. You lift up and drop down, earning moans from both of you. His hands glue to your hips guiding you. As you bounce, he can’t help but watch. Your eyes are screwed shut, lips red and swollen, cheeks as rosy as the flowers outside the sorority houses.

He wishes this moment could last forever.

As he tilts your hips forward, he hits the sensitive spot that sends you into a quick orgasm without warning. Your nails dig into his shoulders, body shuddering above him.

He moans loudly into your ear as you squeeze him so tight he can’t pull out. The warmth of his release mixes with yours.

The last of your orgasm rides out and your head falls into the crook of his neck. Your chests heave, breath fanning across his neck, as his does across your shoulder. His fingers run up and down your back softly.

He mouths I love you against your skin and you smile, not hesitating before whispering it back. You’ve said it a thousand times before, but somehow, this time, it feels like the first.

You move to kiss him softly, but he doesn’t let it last long before sliding his tongue in. Your hands melt in his hair, soothing it after all the roughness it endured.

You both take a second to catch your breath, but he breaks the silence first.

“I think you were right."

You tilt your head, confused.

“My hormones were always destined to alter our relationship.”

You laugh and he kisses the corner of your mouth.

Your fingers meet his, playing with them before you confess. “I might have developed a thing for you too.”

He smiles big and bites his lip, head falling back with laughter and you can’t help but giggle.

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up.”

He grins, “I’m only getting up if you stay the night.”

You fight off a smile, “I was staying the night regardless.”

His jaw draws slack at those words and you wiggle off of him.

“If I would’ve known that I could’ve saved so much—”

You smack his chest lightly before walking away. “Shut up before my thing for you goes away.”

His face scrunches, voice echoing through the room, “You know that’s not possible.”

“And why is that?”

The floorboards squeak as he walks into the bathroom, his arms wrapping around you from behind. “Because you love me.”

You look up, pretending to think about his words, but your mind drifts back to 2 years ago—to when you were desperate for the closest thing you could have to Beau—and that was Dean.

But now Beau is here—with you.

His arms loosen as he leans over, turning on the water for a bath.

Warmth settles in your chest. “I love you Beau.”

His heart swells and he glances at you over his shoulder. “I love you too.”

“Welcome to the Video Store!” You cheer, looking up to find the one and only, Robin. “Oh – it’s just you.”

“Don’t sound too happy to see me.” She smiles, leaning over the counter and looking towards the back. “Is it just you today?”

“No,” you pretend to look around, “Steve’s in here somewhere.”

“Oh Stevie!” Robin skips away and through the aisles. “Where are youuu?”

A silence fills the air before a fit of laughter erupts. Robin pops up over the shelf first, then Steve. 

“I found him!” She yells, dragging him over. 

“Long time, no see.” You tease, walking around the counter. 

“You interrupted my movie finding.” He pouts.

“Suck it up, you can find movies later. Right now, I’m here– and I have news.” 

You and Steve both perk up.

“I got us all new jobs at this place called ‘the Squawk’. It pays better than this and we listen to music all day. Well, we also run the music for the radio, but it’s like, paid-“ 

Steve interrupts, “Woah what? Robin. You got us new jobs?”

She nods, biting her bottom lip. 

“Who will work here if we leave?” 

“Max, Mike, Will, and Lucas. They’ve been talking about it for awhile, but all the positions are full,” she gestures between the three of you, “obviously.”

You smile, tilting your head, before stepping over to hug her. “Thank you,” you murmur, and she hugs tighter. But beside her Steve stands still as a statue.

She quickly pulls away and pats Steve on the shoulder, “I have to go, but I will see you this weekend and we’ll talk more about it! Bye guys!”

Her legs move faster than the rest of her body and she’s out of the door, hopping into someone’s car. Steve stands still, just staring. You walk around the counter and begin to sort through the movies that need to be put away. 

“Are you actually considering this?” His hands push his hair back as he leans on the counter.

You pause. “Well, yeah, I hate working here all the time, and you do too.”

He scratches the back of his neck, “I guess. But I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what?”

He swallows hard, “I, I– never mind.” He grabs the stack of DVDs and walks towards the aisles. 

“Do you want to stay?” Your footsteps follow his. 

He stays quiet, eyes lingering on your face and then the Family Video Store logo on the corner of your shirt. 

“You don’t have to come with us, we can come and visit you-“

“That’s the problem.”

“What?” 

“I don’t want you visiting.”

Your mouth falls open, foot falling back a step. His hand reaches out. 

“I mean– I don’t want us working somewhere different.”

“Why not?” You stand up straighter, the faint sound of whatever you had put on earlier hums loudly. 

He turns, his height swallowing yours. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, “I’m not ready to be away from you yet.” He crosses his arms. “We grew up together and we’ve always had the same schedules–“

“And who says we can’t have that at the new job?”

“Because it’s not how the real world works.” His tone is sharp.

“That’s bullshit Steve.”

His head drops. “No, it’s not. It’s the truth.” A sigh leaves his lips. “If you want to go work at the radio shack place, go ahead, I’ll be right behind you. I don’t–” His finger hooks under your chin, pulling your attention to his face. “I don’t want to let you go sooner than I have to.”

You blink once, and then twice. Everything around you is so quiet you could hear his heart pounding. You’d never considered Steve's constant need to be around as anything more than a habit.

 “I never thought you could be so sensitive, Harrington,” you confess.  

A bashful smile spreads across his face, pink creeping onto his cheeks before he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in for a hug.

“It’s because I love you,” he says. The words are so quiet. “Just a little bit.”

You giggle, kissing him softly on the cheek and patting his shoulder. “Just wait for the day I get married and you actually have to let me go.”

He steps back dramatically, peeling your hands off him. You scoff. 

“I can’t do that then.”

“Hug me?”

 “Touch what I can’t have.”

You take a deep breath as the air grows thicker. “That hasn’t stopped you before.” The words come out more suggestive than you meant, but he doesn’t look away.

“Before, you weren’t getting married to some random man.”

You look down, then to him, “I don’t think he’ll be ‘some random man.’”

His eyebrows furrow. For a moment, it looks like he's afraid to ask what you mean.. 

“I want to marry someone that knows me better than I know myself.”

Something soft flickers across his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You say, a smile fighting its way onto your lips. 

He looks away, smiling to himself, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Do you have someone in mind?” 

You bite your lip, shaking your head side to side.

“Oh, come on.” He clears his throat, “I know you’ve definitely thought about it.” His grin falters for just a second, as he looks down at his ring finger. “I know I have.”

“Steve–“  

Your attention snaps back forward after his head turns, eyes meeting yours. You pick up the pace and swiftly hop in your car, throwing everything in the back seat. Your hands shake as the key connects to the ignition switch, but the car doesn’t start. You pull the keys out and huff in frustration. Slamming them back in again the car jingle comes on, but it still doesn’t start. 

Eddie, on the other side of the lot, has now been watching you for a lot longer than socially acceptable. His fingers tap rhythmically on the driver’s wheel, deciding what to do next. But he knows the only thing he can do is sit in this van and pretend he’s not watching you. The glare of your windshield blocks most of your face, but he can still make out the silhouette he once knew. 

You haven’t talked to him in almost 3 years. He knew it’d be a miracle if you even acknowledged his existence now. Butterflies fill his stomach at the thought, but he kills them immediately by taking a drag from the cigarette. It’s the third one he’s smoked within the last 30 minutes as he’s waited for you to leave the building. His eyes shut and smoke settles in his lungs until a familiar voice haunts his mind. 

“You know you shouldn’t smoke Eds. It’s bad for you, or something.”

His eyes flutter open, looking back at you and then the cigarette in front of him. 

Your fingers meet his, grabbing the cigarette, just to bring it to your own lips. 

He chuckles at the memory before taking another drag, eyes closing again. 

The sunlight highlights the smoke around you, creating an aura. Words leave your lips, nearly incoherent, “...are you gonna keep looking at me like that? Or can you just kiss me already?”  

He coughs violently, snapping back to reality. His head falls back meeting the seat, chest heavy. A shadow crosses his vision and the sound of feet underneath gravels becomes louder. Before he can turn his head your voice pips up a soft but awkward ‘hey.’

Silence crosses between you two. You bite your lip, foot kicking the gravel side to side.

“Um,” you sigh. “My car won’t start and I uh-” you accidentally swallow your words.

His eyes flicker between yours, voice coming out hoarse and shaky. “Oh, damn. D-do you need a- a ride home? Or I- I mean, uh, I can give you some quarters for the phone-”

“Can I get a ride home, if you don’t mind. I don’t want to-” 

“No no. Hop in,” he grins, head motioning to the passenger seat. 

You smile softly and walk around, grabbing the door as he pops it open from the inside. The fabric of the seats and the smell brings back more memories than you realized you’d forgotten. You inhale deeply and shift to buckle. 

His eyes observe you, “It’s broken,” His eyes flicker, “remember?”

You go to speak but nothing comes out. You can only nod, lips pursing. 

The gears click next to you as he puts the car into drive and pulls away. He glances over every once in a while, but you don’t move. Soon enough, the town turns into fields and the cassette whirs an all too familiar song. You can’t help but hum along and glance over, only to catch a smile peeking through his lips. 

A chuckle escapes your lips before turning to face him, feet coming up to rest on the seat. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“Just nice how some things never change.” He admits. 

You hum a confused noise, eyebrows furrowing.

“You humming this song, it’s like-” He cuts himself off, smile slowly dropping.

“It’s like what E-” Your lips stop before your brain registers that you can’t even say his name anymore. Chest falling short of breath, you stare back out the window.

“Nothing.” His voice quivers. 

The car grows painfully quiet, thoughts racing through both of your minds. As you approach the turn for your house, he doesn’t bother to slow, or stop at the stop sign, or actually turn. 

“Where are you-” 

“You- you can’t even say my name anymore.” He croaks.

His hands fidget around the wheel as if he can’t figure out where to put them. And you find yourself at a loss for words, mouth drier than a desert. The pit in your stomach grows and you wish it would just swallow you whole at this moment. 

You’re not even sure how many songs have played before gravel hits the tires outside as he turns off the road. The path feels all too familiar, trees swaying in the distance, sun beaming through them and highlighting the path. As soon as he came to a stop you leaped out the van, walking as far as possible, as fast as possible. You know these woods like the back of your hand, you introduced them to him. He shouts your name relentlessly but they hit you like daggers in your back. The creek runs in the distance and birds warn each other of your arrival. Before you know it, the walk has turned into a run and you find yourself in front of a picnic bench. It's grown a lot of moss over the last 3 years. The metal now red and worn, but untouched on the side lie your initials beside E.M.. 

Heavy breathing grows behind you and he stops calling your name. He follows your gaze to see what you're looking at, his hands run through his hair as it clicks that you found the initials. You turn fast but he stands more still than a statue. 

“Eddie?” Your lip trembles.

His breathing resumes but it’s ragged. 

“Eds.” You sigh, a tear falling down your cheek. You reach out to him but he steps back.

His body shakes, “Don’t.” He closes his eyes as another tear streams down your cheek. “Not unless you mean it. I-I can’t take-”

A sob falls from your lips and you wrap your arms around him. His arms wrap around you and tighten as much as possible. You can hear his heart pounding and the smell of cigarettes lingering on his shirt– the familiarity ignites a fire inside of you. Your tears fade slowly as he caresses your hair, raking through it with his fingers. 

“I told you, you need to stop smoking.” You murmur and a giggle escapes the two of you. 

“I missed you so much.” He whispers into your hair. The wind flows around you, like a breath of fresh air.