#scott thoughts

——

It’d been a long week, not only were you drowning in paperwork, you were still recollecting yourself after a particularly rough encounter with a storm.

It was hailing hard one day and you’d forgotten your coat - leading to a few nasty bruises and a stern lecture about the ‘importance of outerwear’ from your co-worker turned boyfriend, Scott. He was always so assertive, you might find it hotter if it weren’t equally as aggravating.

You trudged back to your motel room for the night, it wasn’t nearly as good as being home but a long, hot shower always helped.

Right before you got to your room you were stopped. “Rough day?” Scott stood in front of your door, arms crossed as he examined your worn expression.

“Rough week.” You corrected, sighing with your whole body as he stood in front of your solace for seemingly no reason.

“What the fuck do you want, Scott?”

“Woah. Just checking in. What’s with the attitude?”

“I’m tired. I’d love to take a shower and go to sleep but someone is standing in front of my door.” You groaned, shoving him out of your way to unlock the door. Barely given enough time to shut it before he was picking you up and tossing you on the bed.

——

You didn’t realize this was what you really needed until you were face down on the bed in front of him, muffled cries into the pillow as he held your hands behind your back.

“As soon as my dick’s inside you all that attitude goes away. That’s all it takes, huh?” He crooned mockingly over you.

“Turn around.” He let go of your wrists and pulled out so you could turn over, hair sticking to the sweat across your forehead as he scanned over you. He moved his hands up your arms, fingers stopping and digging into a bruise over your shoulder as you winced.

“Scott-“ You whined, “you’re being mean.”

“Yeah. If you wanted me to be nice you should’ve acted like you deserved it.”

He relieved the bruise with a stroke of his thumb before he moved his hand to your cheek. Softly resting there for just a second before he pulled it back, a smack followed by a gasp followed by the slick sound of him pushing back into you filling the room. It was all rough and quick, your mouth barely able to keep up with your brain.

“Fuck-“ He quickly shoved two of his fingers into your mouth when you groaned at the stretch of him.

“I know, I know. Feels good, huh?“ You nodded, drool dripping down his fingers that were sliding against your teeth as he literally fucked the stress away.

“Mhm. But we got neighbors, baby. Gotta keep that pretty mouth of yours occupied.” He punctuated by shoving his fingers deeper, tears spilling from your eyes as you gaged.

You could barely think after the second mind-numbing orgasm, your knees bent towards your shoulders as his hand smoothed over the sore skin of your cheek.

“Scott I can’t-“ You mewled, legs shaking under him with every thrust.

“You can, come on.” And you did, finally relaxing and letting your grumpy old boyfriend take care of you for the night.

—

“Can’t sleep yet, honey. Let’s get that shower out of the way, yeah?”

—

He always let you sleep on him after a rough night like this, relaxing into his big, warm chest as his hand soothed over your back as you drifted off. He wasn’t always mean.

“Look at me. Hey. Look at me.” He’s crouched in front of you, hands on your shoulders as he’s trying to give you his version of a pep talk. One of his hands moved to bring your face back towards him as you nervously looked around before settling back on your shoulder.

You have a meeting with a new investor, going over a few numbers, just some business talk that you’d spent hours going over the night before. It really wasn’t a big deal, but it felt like one anyway.

“It’s just a conversation, yeah? Not a big deal. What’s the worst that can happen?” He didn’t completely understand it, he had no problems talking to people but he realized pretty quickly after meeting you that talking to new people made you nervous.

“What if he hates me? Or I say something wrong and he doesn’t want to work with us anymore or he thinks I’m some-“ As soon as the first word was out of your mouth all of the anxious thoughts running around your brain were falling out behind it, shaking hands running over each other.

He stopped you before you could continue, bringing your attention back to him. “Christ. Alright, I get it. I mean I don’t get it but.. I hear you.” He sighed when you bit your lip out of habit, looking up at him like a lost puppy.

“Okay, uh, why don’t you practice on me? Just pretend I’m the investor so you can prepare yourself a little, get used to it first.”

He put his hands down when you nodded, standing up fully and holding out his hand for you to shake.

——

“Not bad. All you need’s some more confidence and something to focus on that isn’t your thoughts.” He reached into one of his pockets, taking out a piece of gum to hand you and impatiently waving it at you as you stared at it.

“Here. If you start to think about all of that.. stuff, just focus on this instead.” You took it from his hand, unwrapping it and putting the intensely minty gum in your mouth.

“I thought that was kinda.. rude?”

it wasn’t your fault he had to leave so much. traveling was just a part of the job, no matter your objections. he was good at it, and though he wouldn’t admit it he enjoyed it.

coming home late meant you were usually asleep, or sleepily waiting on him and passing out the minute he drags you off to bed. mornings were the only time you really got together most weekdays and you were not letting them go to waste.

fortunately that’s how you ended up arching your back off the bed with your nightgown scrunched up around your waist, scotts fingers gripping you over the silk like they began and ended there.

you let him know weeks ago that he should wake you up before he left for work, for a little stress relief if nothing else. and he had, smoothing his hands up the silk covering your skin while you sighed, eyes still closed.

it was early, your alarm had yet to blare out but sunlight was beginning to drift through the curtains, you weren’t expecting anything to disrupt the quiet only adjourned by the dreamy sighs leaving your lips and the lewd squelch following each of his thrusts over you.

unfortunately, someone had called out of work that morning and your exasperated boss was calling you to come in early, disturbing your peace only for a moment while you reached over to see who it was.

“shit, I have to take this.” of course you should’ve known that wasn’t enough to stop Scott, giving him a questioning glance when he told you to answer it, having no clear intention on stopping unless you asked him to.

his heart was in the right place — or rather his dick, set on giving both of you the release you’d been whining about through texts about missing him the night before.

“what? scott-“ the third ring of your phone had come and gone, as had scotts patience for the grading sound.

“answer it. and pay attention, unless you want your boss to know what you’re too busy to come in for.” though his darkened, sleep-ridden voice had you clenching around him, you’d really rather not have to make eye contact with your boss after that.

you answered and put the phone to your ear, biting your lip after what you hoped came off as a sleepy ‘hello’. your boss’ voice was hard enough to listen to when you weren’t getting fucked into the mattress, now it just sounded like nonsense.

when he seemed to be finished speaking you had to apologize and ask him to repeat it, making up an excuse about it being ‘so early’ while you had no problem letting scott know how good he was making you feel moments before.

he wanted you to come in a few hours before you were scheduled, which just so happened to be in about thirty minutes. surely he was out of his mind, but you couldn’t exactly tell him that. instead opting to roll your eyes and clamp a hand around your mouth during a particularly deep thrust.

“what’d he want?” scott asked, bringing you back out of the space in your head reserved just for him. your boss cleared his throat on the phone, likely getting antsy at your lack of clear response.

“sorry” one of Scotts hands was finding its way to your throat, “I would, but I’m actually busy all morning.” and his hand was squeezing just enough to make your head fuzzy — to remind you he was listening.

your boss seemed pissed but you couldn’t find it in yourself to indulge in his sighs of displeasure when you were trying so hard to muffle sounds of your own. you recommended he call someone else and hastily hung up the phone, free to moan and sigh and beg your boyfriend for whatever he’d give you.

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You woke up suddenly, out of breath and sweaty, sitting up and trying to will yourself into thinking about anything else.

“Jesus, you alright?” There was an unfamiliar softness in his voice, probably just from being woken up by your panicked breaths, though you jumped anyway, shaky as you looked over at him, uncharacteristic worry on his face as he sat up.

“Shit sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. Just a bad dream.” You mumbled, words caught in the back of your throat proving difficult to come out, both exhausted from a restless sleep and energized from the pure panic and anxiety. That was always the worst part, being too scared of your own subconscious to go back to bed, involuntarily keeping yourself awake to stop yourself from drifting back into the personal hell you’d found yourself in before.

“Do you.. want to talk about it?” His voice still came out low, though the gruff from not having talked on purpose quite yet was peeking through. He wasn’t too sure how to comfort anyone at all - questioning himself more than you, you weren’t so used to it either; his words rather than his voice alone surprising you this time.

You shook your head, less responding to his question - though it sufficed, more trying to shake out the mental picture and get your brain to function correctly because it wasn’t difficult to understand nightmares but understanding why they happen didn’t seem to help much.

You had a sleep journal, you corrected them as best you could in your head after writing them down, you drank stress relieving tea and read articles and books on dream study and what it all means and it helps but it doesn’t fix the deepest, strangest anxieties that build up over time. The bizarre collection of everything you’ve thought about in the last month coming back to haunt you in a way that feels personal because it is.

Your brain knows the absolute worst combination of everything you’ve thought about or seen or heard, and if you eat too much fucking dairy or think about one specific thing for just the right amount of too much time, none of the rest of it matters anymore. And maybe you weren’t doing enough but maybe you just needed someone to tell you that it wasn’t real because hearing it from yourself so often was getting a little old and -

The tears were sudden - they usually are, soft and warm running down your face and you didn’t notice until a tear dropped down onto the hand still clutching your chest.

And then a warm hand was cautiously rubbing your back and your overly-worried coworker was trying to understand. Surprising himself again when a simply reassuring ‘you’re alright’ found its way out of his mouth, yawning quietly after and probably trying not to roll back over and fall asleep - bless him.

If it were just a few days ago you would’ve been shocked at the mere fact you were even in the same bed - a little mixup caused by none other than Javi, but sharing a room was excuse enough to get a little too comfortable for ‘professionalism’.

You gave up on the whole ‘oh I’ll just sleep on this tiny, uncomfortable chair for a few days until it’s sorted’ act days ago, diluting your dignity and climbing into bed with your similarly less than enthusiastic coworker who gave up on that shtick after the first night.

He wanted to go back to sleep - he really did, his eyes were practically closing themselves. But he surely couldn’t sleep next to someone actively crying and though he could be mean and - more accurately; a dick, he wasn’t completely emotionless. In fact he found himself scared that you were hurt or something was wrong and he had no way of fixing it when he woke up to your rushed breaths next to him. He still wasn’t sure he could really do anything, he didn’t tend to have dreams very much at all let alone bad ones.

There was no protocol to go over in his head about comforting a coworker-turned-roommate after a nightmare. He couldn’t exactly control your brain for you, though after a second thought he would if it’d help more than the apprehensive hand on your back.

Once you’d calmed yourself down enough and wiped the slowest string of tears from your cheeks you turned to look at Scott with something akin to a smile in the darkness.

Hoping that it made up for the lack of spoken gratitude that was clouded up in the panic in your head for the quiet comfort he wasn’t really looking to be thanked for anyway.

It’s all day with him and he doesn’t even notice, taken aback by your needy attitude at the end of the night like he wasn’t torturing you for hours.

It started as soon as you woke up, it was all pretty routine by now but it took some getting used to nonetheless. He was accustomed to your long morning routine and planned ahead for it, waking you up extra early so you’d both be as punctual as he always had been.

This didn’t stop him from getting antsy in the last few minutes before you had to be out the door. Pacing around as you gathered your things, shaking his head and glancing at his watch every few seconds like it’d been hours after just a few minutes.

“Jesus, still? Get it together, let’s go.” He complained, hands on your shoulders as you walked over so he could get you out the door even quicker.

——

It didn’t stop at work either, watching you through his sunglasses as you talked to investors, just giving you a slight nod when you waved at him. As soon as you were done talking he walked over, ignoring your greeting and wordlessly recentering the little pendant on your necklace before walking back off, leaving you confused and all warm from his hand hovering over your chest.

When you’re sitting in the car with him, your eyes locked on the cloudy sky in front of you. Going over the numbers with him before his hand that was previously resting on the center console moved to your thigh, squeezing it lightly like his own personal stress ball. He looked over when you paused, raising a brow at you, crisp spearmint filling your nose as he spoke.

“Why’d you stop? I know you’re not done yet, keep going.”

——

Opening doors for you wherever you go, smug smile planted on his face when you thank him, shrugging off every kind little gesture like it’s nothing even though both of you know he wouldn’t do that for just anyone.

+ bonus for him taking care of everything without mentioning it, refilling your water bottle when he notices before you do bc he knows you take it everywhere. It’s just so easy to not have to worry about anything when he’s around 🧎🧎

——

You show up at his door late one night, all antsy and pouting about how you saw some bug in your room and couldn’t sleep.

“All this over a little bug, really? It’s gotta be, what, two in the morning?” He groans, voice all groggy as he grabbed a shoe anyway and let you wordlessly drag him to your room.

“Don’t kill it, just take it out, please?” You pleaded as you walked back into your room, pointing at the bug from behind him as you clung to his arm.

He sighed before removing his arm from your grasp, collecting the unwanted little thing and taking it outside while you hid your face in your hands.

“You can open your eyes, it’s outside. Can I go back to sleep now?” He muttered, sleep still apparent in his voice. It was all a simple exchange, really but coming from someone who was usually so grumpy and cold, it meant a lot to you.

“Thank you, Scott. Sorry for waking you up so late.” He was being sweeter than you thought he’d be, if he wasn’t so sleepy he’d have called you a crybaby by now.

“Yeah. Don’t wake me up again unless somethings on fire, alright?” He said, eyes barely open as he opened the door to leave.

“I won’t, sorry.” You whispered, focused on the sight of his messy bed hair and the plaid pajama pants you could’ve guessed the one and only Scott Miller would own.

“Don’t be.” He left curious as to why he felt the need to follow you out in the first place. He wouldn’t be up this late for anyone let alone over a little bug, and yet, here he was.