The Bank Of My Obssession

——

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.

Scott couldn’t keep his hands off of you, the drive to the hotel was full of tension as his fingers danced over your skin. He kept one hand tight on the steering wheel and the other wandering your body. 

You could feel the determination, the desperation, in his touch. Your skin tingles everywhere he touches you, each brush of his fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your body ached for him, needing him to be closer, needing more. 

But at the same time, his touch was so light that it was driving you crazy. You could feel his desire in the way he touched you, it was different than usual. 

Finally the hotel came into view and the anticipation in your body was almost unbearable. Scott pulled into a parking spot and practically slammed on the brakes, he rushed out of the truck, swiftly coming to your door to lead you out. 

His hand rested on your lower back as he guided you to the front door. Once inside the elevator, he pressed his body against your back, you could feel his erection pressed into your backside. 

Scott's tall body completely enveloped yours, you could feel the heat radiating off him as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. 

"I need to get you to my room now,” he mutters, his breath warm against your skin. He grips your hips tightly, as if he were holding himself back from doing more.

The ding of the elevator caught your attention. “Lead the way Scottie.” You murmur, anticipation in the pit of your stomach as his body responds to your words. 

He takes your hand in his and quickly leads you down the hallway towards his room. As soon as he gets the door open, he practically pushes you through, closing and locking the door behind him. 

He wastes no time, he's on you in an instant, pinning you against the wall and pressing his body firmly against yours. His lips find your neck, planting rough, messy kisses against your sensitive skin.

“Scott,” you gasp out, hands going to his sides as you pull him impossibly closer, needing him just as much as he needs you. 

Scott lets out a soft hum as his lips continue their ruthless attack on your pulse point. His hands move to your pants, he unbuttons them, unzips them and slides them away. 

His calloused fingers find your clothed clit, beginning to rub gentle circles into it causing a shocked moan to slip out of your lips. 

“Scott, more..” you murmur, fingers tangling in his dark locks, softly tugging at the roots. 

“You like that, baby?” he murmurs back, his teeth scraping against your skin as he continues to nip and kiss your neck. 

He groans at the sound of your moans, loving the way you call out his name. He rubs a little harder, applying more pressure as he watches your reactions. His free hand runs along your body, appreciating the curves of your body.

He moves to capture your lips in another rough kiss, his tongue immediately entering your mouth as he presses you back against the wall. He guides you to the bed, pressing you down so you’re sitting on the edge of the plush mattress.

His hands squeeze your hips as he drops to his knees, his lips never leaving yours. His hands follow the curves of your waist, moving to the hem of your shirt before slipping under the fabric. He parts your legs with his body, he slides your shirt off, looking at you with eyes filled with nothing but desire. 

Scott presses a kiss to your stomach, moving up your body with gentle wet kisses. as he reaches your breasts he buries his face between them, breathing in the scent of you, his fingers move to the clasps of your bra unclasping it. 

He worships your body, appreciating every curve and contour. The look in his eyes is something new to you. He’s so full of desire, so full of emotion that he can’t even mask it with a cocky demeanor.

As he unhooks your bra, his teeth graze along the sensitive flesh of your chest. He can’t get enough of you at this moment, feeling as if he could eat you alive. He looks up at you, his gaze locked onto yours. “You’re so damn beautiful, you know that?” You pull him into a hungry kiss, wanting to taste him once again. 

His hands press into you as he pulls back from your lips, he turns his attention to the wetness between your legs. He swiftly pulls your lace panties away, taking in the sight of you. he reaches out, using his pointer finger to slowly enter your warmth, your eyes fall shut as you let out a choked moan. 

“Scott!” you gasp his name, legs instinctively parting further. His lips connect with your inner thigh, he sucks soft hickeys into the sensitive skin, teeth lightly nipping at you. “Fuck,” you whimper, lost in the senstation as he continues to fuck you with his thick finger. 

His nose brushes against your hip bone as he licks the soft skin, he brings his eyes to meet your face. “Y/N? This is okay right?” he murmurs against you. 

“Yes, fuck please.” you whine out, he smirks, guiding your legs to his shoulders as he finally brushes his tongue against your wetness. He moans at the taste of you in his mouth, hands going to your hips, grasping them tightly as he pulls you closer to him. 

His lips move hungrily against your sex, lapping up the juices flowing from you. Your head falls back in ultimate pleasure, body arching into him, moans slipping out of you harmoniously.  Your thighs tighten around his neck as you lean back on your palms, chest heaving with pleasure. 

Scott follows you as you shift back, his lips wrapped around your clit, the tip of his tongue teasing the sensitive bud. You're shaking with pleasure, feeling equally overstimulated and not quite stimulated enough to push you over the edge. 

He lightly grazes his teeth against your clit causing you to practically scream out in pleasure, your body shuddering with the sensation. He takes note of this and presses his pointer and middle finger into your soaked core, he lightly nips at your nub. 

You're a sloppy moaning mess, feeling the familiar knot in your stomach, the pleasure mixing with the slight pain of his teeth on your sensitive spot. With a final loud moan your orgasm crashes over you, your body shakes aggressively with the intensity. 

You try to pull back, desperate for a second to catch your breath, but Scott holds you tight. His tongue working its magic on you, he laps up every bit of the remnants of your pleasure. You collapse against the bed as he finally pulls away from your pussy. 

He climbs on top of the bed, hovering over you with a sly smirk as you breath heavily, your eyes half-lidded. He brushes your hair behind your ear, placing his fingers that were once inside you, into his mouth licking up your slickness. 

“I’m not done with you just yet.” he purrs, his hands moving to his own clothes to pull them away. After he strips he lays down on the mattress, his hands moving to pull you on top of him. 

You take the message and guide his erection to your pussy, slowly sliding down on him, his hands grasp your hips tight. “Just like that,” he groans, letting you have full control as his length stretches you out. 

Scotts name falls from your lips like a prayer, your hands fall to his abs, holding yourself up. Your hips move against his as you slowly ride him, enjoying the passion between the two of you. He impatiently bucks his hips into yours with each movement, your eyebrows furrow with pleasure as he groans. 

“God, pretty Y/N. You’re so perfect on top of me.” he moans, his thumbs digging into your skin as you start to move faster. His dick seems to swell inside of you as he comes closer and closer to his own release. 

He bucks his hips into you, his face contorting with satisfaction. He groans your name, his hands guiding your movements. “Fuck.” he moans as his warm cum fills you, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“Keep going princess..” he praises you, making you bite your lip in response as you continue your movements. Your body starts to feel tired as you keep moving, his hands cup your ass squeezing the soft flesh. 

“Scott, I'm getting tired.” you whimper, head falling forward. 

He shakes his head, “You can do it, my pretty girl,” he directs your movements, sliding your ass up and down, your pussy clenches around his cock. Scott thrusts into you, his length fully hard inside you once again. 

You gasp as he fills you, sending shivers down your spine, your arms shake as you keep trying to hold yourself up. He chuckles softly as he notices the way you’re struggling, his arms move to your waist, encircling you into a hug as he sits up. 

The new position causes you to nearly scream in pleasure, his tip pressing into your g-spot. “Fuck,” you moan, pressing your face into his shoulder as you continue to bounce on him. His body supports yours as he fucks up into you. 

He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, encouraging you to keep going and to go faster. The pleasure is intense, almost too much for you. He grasps your hips, pushing himself into you fully, his dick hitting your spot with each thrust. 

You can feel yourself growing closer and closer, your orgasm building along with his. You bite down onto his shoulder as he circles your clit with his thumb. He groans at the pain, although it only enhances his pleasure, your movements become more sloppy as you begin chasing release. 

Your high crashes over you, body shaking as it does. Scott falls back on the mattress as his own orgasm falls over him, his cum spewing into your pussy mixing with yours. You crash on top of him, the both of you sticky with your sweat. 

Scott lets out a contented sigh as he feels your body relax on top of his, your breathing erratic. He wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly as he struggles to catch his breath.

He can’t help but marvel at how good you make him feel. It’s unlike anything he’s experienced. He caresses your hair, running his fingers through it as his heartbeat slowly goes back to normal. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he murmurs, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Sorry sir, she ran past me,” says the receptionist from behind me and I don’t need to turn around to know she’s giving me a nasty look.

He looks between us before waving her off. “It’s fine, Kathy. Please excuse us.”

“It’s one thing to have investors when you could do our research with grants and not have to be unethical.” I fume. “It’s another to let the biggest asshole in Oklahoma now own half the company and let him fire half of us without cause.”

He scoffs, not bothering to look at me. “I did what was best for the company. Sorry you didn’t make the cut. If you need any letters of recommendation, please let Kathy know.”

It takes everything in me not to walk over and smack the attitude out of him but I know I might need the stupid recommendation so I take a deep breath instead.

“Anything else? Or do I need to get security to escort you out?” He says, looking at me with those icy blue eyes that once gave me butterflies.

“When this inevitably blows up in your face, don’t bother to call.” I respond and walk out, not bothering to close the door on my way out which I know he hates.

The elevator is slow to get me to the lab where I pick up what little I keep in my office and then with one last look to the place that I once considered my second home, I start to head out. Taking down the picture of Javi, Kate, Scott, and I from the wall and throwing it in the trash can before I get on the elevator.

After eating way too much ice cream for dinner and playing darts with Scott’s picture attached to the board, I realize I have no idea what to do next. Only thing that’s for certain is that bills will pile up quickly if I can’t get another job soon though.

So I dial the only person I know might help me and hope my past job is something he can look past. Hope fills me up when he picks up on the first ring. His southern drawl already making me feel like things will actually be okay.

-

“Good lord, Y/N, as I live and breathe! What the heck are you doing here city girl?” Asks Boone, pulling me in for a much needed hug.

“Well the city didn’t really want me anymore so here I am.” I admit, looking at my feet as I blush in embarrassment.

Boone knows me too well and it won’t be long before I know I’ll have to keep him from punching Scott in the mouth. Even if he really deserves it. He sighs in response, looping his arm through mine and leading me to the rest of the team.

“Look at what the cat dragged in, come here girl,” Dani says, enveloping me into a hug that Lily is quick to join into. “Welcome aboard,” they whisper before pulling away.

“Alright, Alright, let’s not suffocate our newcomer. We still gotta show her the ropes.” He says, and I feel my heart begin to race. Damn you, Tyler Owens for having this effect on me, well actually, on most of the female population.

“Thanks again for the opportunity,” I say, turning around to meet his eye. The past couple of months definitely did him well, I think as I take in his physique.

“Don’t mention it.” He responds, leaving me to get acclimated with my new role in his team.

-

Soon enough we’re racing down the road to where a Tornado has begun to form but before we can turn into the street that will lead us right to it, the Scarecrow truck that I once shared with Scott cuts us off.

“God I hate that asshole,” Tyler mumbles as we resume our journey, now trailing Scott who can’t seem to pick a speed. “Turn left up here, then turn right before the dead end, it’ll put us right ahead,” I tell Tyler who is quick to follow instructions as I buckle into the harness and hold the steering wheel so he can do the same.

But the action is over before it’s even begun as the tornado quickly dissipates before it reaches us. Tyler and I look at each other and down at the computer which shows no other storms in the area today.

“Maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow,” I say, radioing the rest of the team who suggests heading to the diner down the road for dinner.

“So what happened between Kate, Javi, and Scott? Why did they take off?” Tyler asks, as he drives down the nearly deserted back roads that lead to the town.

“Scott had a majority share in Storm Par because of his uncle and after the stunt Kate and Javi pulled in Reno, he had them pretty much fired.”

“Well, I got that already from Kate and being there but why didn’t they come back?” He asks, and I know exactly what he’s really asking. Why did Kate ghost him?

But I don’t know how to tell him the truth. So I try to do the one thing I suck at. Lie. “They just got busy, I guess. Javi got a job with Kate last I heard and it just worked out better up there for them,” I say, avoiding eye contact.

“I bet it did,” he mutters, and I can’t help the guilty feeling in my stomach. But could he handle the truth?

-

We head up to Texas the following week and the ride is mostly silent except for me giving directions to Tyler every once in a while. I don’t think he takes up very well to lying since he’s stopped trying to make friendly conversation and will only talk about work.

The motel comes into view and it isn’t the nicest. But when are they ever nice?

Tyler hands me my room key and I grab my bag. It feels odd being here without the rest of the team but we need to be in two places at once sometimes to get our data.

“Hey Tyler, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for lying the other day. I really hate to start our work relationship on the wrong foot.” I say, as we walk up the stairs to the rooms.

“So why don’t you tell me the truth then?”

His green eyes lock on mine and I suddenly feel nervous. “Kate, she wasn’t ready to be here. After her and Javi got fired, they figured they could make a better difference up in New York working with NOAA.” His face twists into a frown. “For what it’s worth Ty, she almost came back for you but you’ve gotta understand after what she went through, she just wasn’t ready.”

“I just wish she would’ve called.”

“I’m sorry, Ty. But she’s coming to see her mom in a few weeks. Maybe show up? See what’s up?”

“I just might. Now go on and get some sleep. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.” He says, and I nod heading into my room.

-

“Ugh!” I grunt when my alarm goes off the next morning.

Why did I pick this job when I’ve never been a morning person?

I shower quickly and pack my dirty clothes back into my bag and as I put on my shoes there’s a knock on my door. He sure is punctual.

“Hey we’re getting some crazy weather east of here. You ready?” Tyler asks as soon as I open the door. “Yep, let me grab my stuff.”

By the afternoon we’ve already had two F1’s and a whole lot of data collected so Tyler decides we can head for some lunch.

The sight of the Storm Par truck is enough to make my appetite go away as I spot the scarecrow sticker on the back but nevertheless I follow Tyler in and order a burger.

“Hey I gotta make a call, I’ll be right back.” Tyler tells me and I’m left alone in the booth picking at my fries. Unfortunately for me it isn’t for long as Scott slides in to the seat across from me.

“Didn’t think you’d go work for the hillbillies,” he says, stealing one of my fries and I roll my eyes. “What the hell do you want Scott?”

“Just to offer you a job. I need a navigator.”

I scoff. “I told you I’m not working for you again.” I can feel his eyes on me but I refuse to look up.

“Suit yourself,” he says, sliding out of the booth and leaving me alone. God I cannot stand that man.

“Y/N! We gotta go!” yells Tyler, rushing back into the diner and I throw two 20’s on the table and run after him. Noticing Scott also getting up to follow.

The weather has changed in the little time we were in the diner. What was a clear sky is now dark gray and the rain starts to come down hard as I slam the truck door shut.

“It’s coming this way, look at the radar,” says Tyler as he shifts the truck in gear and soon we are speeding down the two lane highway. “Ty, it’s starting, oh God.”

The tornado is forming right ahead of us and as I stare at the screen in my laptop I realize it’s headed straight for the diner.

“Fuck, hold on!” yells Tyler, doing a U-turn and speeding back towards the diner. We need to move fast and get these people to safety.

I hop out as Tyler puts the truck in park and we rush back inside, Tyler yelling out to get to the back since there isn’t a storm shelter. People nearly trample us as they file into the back room.

I turn to the windows, the sound of the familiar sirens is almost deafening and that’s when I see him. Scott is pulling into the parking lot and the tornado is right behind him.

“Y/N! Get in here!” Yells Tyler but it’s muffled. My body is almost in autopilot as I sprint to the door to try to save the man who’d probably leave me for dead.

“Scott!” I scream, the rain is coming down harder and I can hardly see anything. The ground shakes beneath me but I push through to where I think I see him and we collide. “C’mon!” I yell as I pull him with me to safety and it’s like everything is in slow motion.

The windows burst into shards of glass and I duck, hoping Scott did too. My hand never leaving his as I continue to pull us inside and we make it, just barely.

He envelops me in his arms as the tornado goes over the diner and everything around us rattles. The screams of the people around us are terrifying and I think “Is this where we die?”

And just like that it’s over.

We survived.

-

I sit in a booth wincing in pain as Scott and Tyler pull glass shards out of my face and arms. The pain is nauseating and all I want is a shower and a nice bed.

“What were you thinking going after him?” asks Tyler when Scott walks back to the bathroom to get more paper towels.

“I wasn’t.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well that much is clear.”

I nod in agreement as he takes the paper towels from Scott and dabs at my cuts and I wince in pain.

“Yeah, you need to go back home and get some proper rest.” Tyler says, and shushes me before I can protest. “I’ll book you a flight tomorrow. Take a few days off. I’ll be back in Oklahoma by the time you’re good to go.”

I nod reluctantly.

“I can take her back, I’m heading back up tonight.” Scott says from behind Tyler and I stiffen at the suggestion. “Y/N, that's okay with you?” Asks Tyler looking at me and as much as I want to say no, I know if he doesn’t have to buy me a flight, he can use the money to help the community affected so I nod.

“C’mon I’ll take you back to the motel to get your things. Can you meet us there Scott?”

“I’ll be right behind you,” he responds.

The car ride is silent other than the radio reporting the damages and all I can think of is wanting to stay but I know better than to argue with Tyler.

I slowly gather my things when we get to the motel trying to avoid spending much time with Scott. Why did I really go after him?

The hot water feels good on my skin as I wash away the blood and remaining pieces of glass. The alarm on my phone startles me and I step out knowing we have to go soon.

I wince as I apply ointment on my cuts then head out the door to meet Tyler and Scott.

“Drive safe!” Tyler yells as Scott pulls out into the highway and I know it’ll be a long six hours as he turns up the radio.

You loved storms just as much if not more then your older brother Tyler. You were 10 years younger then him but you were one in the same. You even followed in his foot steps and majored in Meteorology but, you took it a step further and got your PhD in it at UT Austin. You had just graduated early and your brother was proud so as your graduation gift your brother invited you to join him and the wranglers for the season. It took you all of .5 seconds to say yes.

You still weren't sure what you were gonna do with your degree you had a few job offers from different places but joining your brother could hopefully help you figure it all out. Hey you may even follow in your brothers foot steps even more and become a storm chaser who's knows your life was just starting and anything was a possibility!

It was early evening when your plane landed. After getting your suitcases from baggage claim you're off to find your brother. While looking around you all of a sudden feel 2 arms from behind left you in the air.

"Baby sister" you hear from behind you. You turn around and see your brother's big smiling face. You wrap your arms around his neck and squeeze as hard as you can. "I'm so happy you're here" "I am too I miss you big brother" he hugs you back and give you a kiss on your temple "I've missed you too sis, come one let's get your stuff in the truck the rest of the crew are waiting for you they can't wait to see you"

You couldn't wait to see the crew you loved them almost as much as your brother.

The ride to the hotel was 45 minutes away from the airport and the ride was filled with stories about about chases the crew have done and some new research they have and things you've been up to since graduation. You haven't seen your brother since Thanksgiving so it was nice to be spending time with him for the next few months.

Once you pull into the hotel parking lot you saw a lot of other storm chasing teams and of course you see the wranglers. When Tyler parks the truck you barley have time to get out before you have a pair of arms around your waist and your feet lifted off the ground. "Dr.Owens you're finally here"

"Boone oh my God put me down before you drop me" you say as you kick your feet

"Boone don't break my sister she just got here" Tyler says shaking his head making his way around the truck.

"I'd never drop my favorite Owens" Boone says with a big smile.

Boone finally puts you back on your feet so you can hug and greet the others. You all decide to hang around, have a few beers and catch up. Everyone is just how you remembered and you know its gonna be a great time. You are about 3 beers in and laughing at some story Boone was telling but unbeknownst to you your laughter had got the attention of another storm chaser and he couldn't take his eyes off you.

Across the parking lot Scott is standing by one of StormPars trucks uploading data to his laptop when he hears a beautiful laugh. His head shots up and sees not only is the laugh beautiful but it's coming from the more beautiful girl he's ever seen and he can't help but stare.

"Hey man you get that data in the system yet" Javi asks as he walks up to the truck. Scott snaps out of the trance he's in and looks to Javi "oh just about done" he says looking back at his laptop.

"Hey who's the new girl over there with Owens" Scott ask eyes still looking down tapping away "she a new hillbilly member?" Javi looks over to Tyler and and his crew to see who Scott is talking about.

"Nah dude that's Y/N Owens Tyler's little sister, she just graduated from UT Austin with her PhD in Meteorology. She's hella smart not to mention drop dead gorgeous don't ya think" Javi says "She's ok i guess". Scott says with a shug, he couldn't let Javi think he had a thing for Tyler's sister could he it would ruin his hard ass imagine.

Back over across the lot the wranglers are still having their reunion with Y/N. "As much fun as this all has been we gotta get to bed got a long day of chasing tomorrow ahead of us radar looking really promising" Tyler says to his crew and sister.

"Hopefully I get to get up close and inside a tornado tomorrow" you say beaming with the biggest smile. "More like your big brother everyday" Tyler says with a laugh pulling you into a hug.

As the crew is putting all their equipment away you and Tyler grab your bags from the bed of his truck. "You think you packed enough stuff Y/N, you know we are chasing tornados not trying out for that modeling show" Tyler says as he grabs 2 of your bags and looking at the other 2 smaller ones still laying in the back of the truck.

"One that show is Americas next top model and 2 I came straight from school so I had to bring everything that was in my dorm, I'll sort it all out and send the rest to mom and dads" you say rolling your eyes. "Plus you there are some pretty cute storm chasers in this lot never know when ill need a sexy outfit" you say throwing a wink to the crew who bust out laughing knowing how protective Tyler is of you.

"No that's not happening " Tyler says looking at you while handing you one of your smaller bags. You look at him and rolls your eyes while taking the bag from him " Yeah ok" is the only thing you say with a smirk.

"You ok with sharing a room with your big brother tonight? They only had 3 rooms left when we got here" Tyler ask while making you way to the stairs. "Yeah that's fine use to do it when we were kids". You make your way up the stairs to the room you and your brother were sharing carrying the 2 smaller bags. When you got to the door Tyler is looking for the key, he finally finds the card and goes to unlock the door but instead of a green light on the handle its red. "Shit stay here I need to go get a new card".

Tyler leaves you on the second floor while he goes to get a new key. You walk over to the railing cross your arms over it and look out at all the other storm chasing teams. As you're looking over the rail you spot a group of chasers looking way more professional then anyone else in the parking lot. Along with the group you a tall muscular guy in a ballcap catches you eye and all you can think of is how insanely good looking he is. Your focus on the cute guy is broken by your brothers voice.

"Got a new key" Tyler says. "Bless you big brother I'm so ready for a shower, food, and sleep in that order". As Tyler opens the door you peak over your shoulder and you swear you see the cute guy looking at you with a smirk.

Tyler orders pizza for the 2 of you while you get in the shower. It was nice to wash away your day of travel. You stayed in the shower longer then you normally would have but the hot water felt amazing you couldn't help it. You get out and start to dry yourself off when your brother yells to you the pizza was delivered.

The rest of the night spent eating pizza, watching tv, and doing more catching up with your brother. "Thank you for inviting me Ty it means a lot. I still don't know what I'm gonna do my new fancy degree I'm hoping being here and chasing will help me figure it out" you say looking at your brother. "I'm happy to help you figure it out sis" Tyler says with a smile.

When the pizza is on gone and you have cleaned up the mess you crawl into your bed with a loud sigh. Tyler laughs and shakes his head. "I've stayed in this hotel before the beds are not that good" "They so when you've been traveling all day and had a 3 hour delay in Austin" You say as you close your eyes. "Ok well I'm going to take a shower you need to get some sleep got a long day of storm chasing ahead, and with any luck you will be inside your first tornado" your brother says while grabbing his shower things and clothes.

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.

“Don’t pay any attention to him,” she encourages. 

You shift back on your heels and nod, feeling her supportive pat on your arm. 

“I won’t,” you lie.

The reality is that you paid entirely too much attention to Scott throughout the last two years of grad school and lately, he’s returned that attention tenfold.

At first, you kept an eye on him out of self-preservation after he snatched your chosen thesis project right from under you during your first year of grad school. You were too trusting then, swayed by his handsome face and charm. After that, you were determined to ignore him, but he dogged your every step, stealing your reserved time in the open labs and seizing every chance to undermine you in class.

By your second year, you got smarter, letting him believe he had the upper hand while you worked quietly behind the scenes. For every biting remark Scott directed your way, you responded with a falsely sweet smile. The first victory was securing the TA position with Dr. Davis — an opportunity Scott had boasted was his for the taking. Next, you managed to snap up all three professors Scott wanted for his thesis committee. That win felt especially satisfying, watching that deep flush crawl up his neck as he tried to rein in his temper. 

This dance was thrilling in a way you hadn’t expected. You never considered yourself competitive, but you were starting to realize you just hadn’t encountered anyone who could truly challenge you before. Now, competing for the highest grade in the classes you shared has become second nature, and stealing each other’s open lab time is a regular occurrence. But, sometime during the last few months things shifted, and your mutual dislike turned into an entirely different beast.  

The first time a fight with Scott ended with his mouth on yours, you froze – wide-eyed and too stunned to respond. He held your gaze easily, that familiar smirk playing on his lips. Scott was entirely confident until the silence stretched on, and you saw a flicker of uncertainty in his bright blue eyes. Even though it wasn’t your nature, you let him linger in those feelings, savoring the sight of him looking unsettled. It only lasted a moment and since then, you’d never seen anything but his usual cocky self-assuredness each time you ended up underneath him.

Unsurprisingly, you find Scott waiting for you in the hall. He’s wearing one of your favorite outfits, a white button-down shirt underneath a blue sweater that’s rolled up to his elbows. With one foot crossed over the other and his arms folded across his chest, he looks completely unbothered leaning against the wall. You ignore him and keep walking, fully aware of how much it irritates him when you deny him attention. Scott’s loafers squeak against the floor as he pushes off the wall to follow you. With his long legs, he quickly catches up, walking close enough that his shoulder brushes yours. The heady scent of his cologne tickles your nose and you inhale quietly. 

“You done playing kiss ass?” he asks.

“It’s called being a nice person,” you reply. “And, besides, we were just talking.”

He scoffs and moves in front of you, blocking you from continuing. He’s clearly still pissed that you outshone him in class earlier. You honestly didn’t mean to this time — it was just your eagerness to snag the coveted intern spot. But when you saw the intense, angry look in his eyes, you couldn’t help but keep going. Watching his jaw tighten and his pouty pink lips flatten into a firm line was fast becoming your favorite sight. 

“Not everyone wants to hear you talk," Scott growls. “You’ve been running that smart mouth all day, acting like you’re the star student.”

There’s something about how he talks to you, with that edge of annoyance and jealousy that makes your whole body tingle. 

“I was just answering the questions,” you say, equal parts thrilled and terrified when his expression darkens. 

“Shut up,” he hisses, grabbing your arm and yanking you into an abandoned office. 

The soft click of the door plunges the room into semi-darkness. The only light comes from the afternoon sun filtering through the shuttered blinds. It smells dusty and stale, but you don’t have time to dwell on that as Scott pushes you forward. Your knees collide with a wooden desk, and your hands shoot out to brace yourself against it. Scott rips your backpack from your shoulders.

“Scott, what —”

“I don’t want to hear you talk,” he growls.

He grabs the back of your neck and forces your cheek against the cool wood while his other hand caresses the swell of your ass over your dress. Nervous energy skitters down your spine when both hands disappear a second later, your mind working overtime to anticipate his next move. 

“Spread your legs,” he commands.

He hardly gives you enough time to comply before he's impatiently kicking them apart. The tickle of his fingers dragging up your inner thigh has your skin tingling in anticipation. He rubs you through your underwear, two fingers circling your clit until you grow damp enough for him to feel through the cloth. You circle your hips, eyes closing as you surrender to sensation only for them to fly open a moment later when he strikes your ass hard enough to jolt the desk. 

You tense and he chuckles, fingers continuing to tease you without providing any relief. Every time you start to relax he delivers another smack and soon enough you’re moaning, desperate little pleas falling from your lips. You want him to really touch you and sink those thick fingers inside like he’s done before but maddeningly, he doesn’t. Every part of you is warm and trembling. 

“Scott,” you exhale, pushing up on your forearms. 

You’re shocked that he lets you stand, but that melts away when he spins you to face him. His lips claim yours hungrily, his tongue nearly choking the breath from you. When he rips his mouth from yours you’re panting and he’s flushed. 

“Get on the desk,” he demands.

You scramble back, but he’s quick to step between your legs and grab the back of your thighs to help you up. He has your underwear off in a blink and sinks to his knees.  When his hot breath falls against the most intimate part of you, a surprised squeak escapes, melting into a low moan when Scott runs his tongue through your folds, lapping greedily at the taste of you.

It’s noisy the way he eats you out and you’re mortified by how wet it all sounds. You squeeze your eyes closed, threading your fingers through his hair as he continues to devour you. It feels undeniably good, better than anything a man has done to you before. Not that you had much to compare it to; you were too busy chasing your parents' expectations and trying to prove your own worth. 

“Please, oh please,” you whimper, your voice fizzling out when his tongue pushes inside your warmth. 

The hand around your hip slides down and Scott’s mouth leaves your cunt. You’re about to beg him to continue when his thumb and forefinger roll your clit, creating a deliciously painful pleasure that makes your body quake. Then his mouth is back on you, his thick tongue working together with his fingers. The coil in your belly is pulled taut and your skin tingles. You’re close and he seems to realize it, rubbing your bundle of nerves in an unrelenting, circular motion. It’s overwhelming and you don’t even realize that broken, needy sound is coming from you. If you were in your right mind you’d be an anxious mess about the idea of someone hearing the two of you but Scott has you all twisted up.

Part of you expects him to pull back and make you beg to come, but to your relief, he doesn’t stop. Instead, he seems to redouble his efforts and you peak with his name on your lips, almost missing his low groan. The muscles of your thigh tremble, your body overwrought but he works you through it all. When he finally pulls away you’re breathless and sated. You lay there, panting and overworked. For a moment you forget he’s even there, but then you hear his belt clink. You try to sit up but he’s quicker, shoving you back down.

“Think we were done already?” He asks. God, you certainly hoped not. “What?” He questions, “No smart remarks now?”

Before you can gather your wits he’s laying his body over yours and pushing inside. You gasp for breath when he lays his full weight on you, pressing you into the desk. There’s nothing for you to do but lay here and let him fuck you.

“Thought about this during class,” he grits out. “What do you think everyone would say if they saw you now? We both know you're not the good girl you pretend to be.”

“I am good,” you argue.

“I’m gonna make you be good,” he replies. His breath fans over the side of your face as he leans in close, his tone smug when he speaks again. “You like it when I talk to you like that?” 

Your lips part but the only sound that comes out is a long, low moan as he slows his pace to deepen his thrusts. He gropes your chest and hooks his fingers into the neckline of your dress to pull the fabric low enough to expose your lacy bra. 

“Did you wear this for me?” Scott asks, rolling his hips forward. You grasp his wrist and grunt, thighs tensing around his hips. “I’m keeping the underwear,” he pants. 

Even if you wanted to respond to him you can’t because his mouth is on yours the second he stops speaking. He feels indescribably good inside you and the delicious pressure he's building in your cunt makes you feel dizzy. You’d do anything he asked just to come and Scott seems to know it. He leans back and his pace slows until he’s completely still, his hips flush with yours. 

A needy whine rises in your throat at the sudden shift in pace. You need him to move and you lift your hips but Scott pins you to the desk easily. He tilts his head and stares at you, amused.

“You gonna let me come inside you this time?”

You shake your head, the no on your lips dying when Scott’s thumb strums your clit. Even during your first time together, he seemed to know how to play your body and today is no different. 

“No?” he questions. “See I think that you will, good girl.” That phrase — one you both love and loathe — has you clenching around him and Scott chuckles, sounding breathless. “Yeah, I got your number. Knew it from day fucking one.”

You keen and reach back to grasp the edge of the desk. When he starts fucking you in earnest you wrap your legs around Scott’s waist.

“Tell me, good girl. Tell me I can come inside you."

“Scott, please.”

“Please what?” he asks. His hair falls over his forehead as he leans down on his elbows and his mouth hovers inches from yours  “I know you wanna be my good girl.”

“I do,” you gasp.

“Then say it,” he demands. “Beg me.”

“Please, Scott. I want…” your voice trails off, mind working overtime to string words together. “I want you to come inside me.” The words come out in a rush, your face warm with humiliation.

Scott responds by curling his body over yours, driving into you hard enough to have the desk groaning. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and bury your face in the side of his neck. Praise spills from his lips, about how good you are for him and how you feel, tight and hot around him.

You peak just as he does, wave after wave of pleasure washing over your body. A low, almost pained sound escapes his clenched lips as he spills inside you. He gives a few more abortive, shallow thrusts and you clench hard around him, your moan mingling with his. You stay tangled together as you both find your breath again. Scott surprises you by brushing his lips over yours almost sweetly, his hand cradling the side of your face. 

“I’m going to think about this later,” he whispers. “Knowing I’ll be dripping out of you while you sit in our next lecture.”

His words have their desired effect and you look away, embarrassed and turned on again. You feel his fingertips trace your bottom lip. “Maybe next time I’ll come here. Hmmm.”

Your whole body warms, your chest brushing against his as you draw a breath. His clever words always leave you feeling this way, and for a moment, you wish he would be struck dumb. Clearing your throat, you lift your lashes to meet his gaze, a sweet smile curving the corner of your lips as an idea takes shape.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex

Wranglers!reader: Uhh…you're likely not getting any. He's got a busy schedule plus an early morning tomorrow, blah blah blah, you know how it is. 

Storm PAR!reader: At the beginning of your relationship, it'd be the same as if you were a wrangler. But somewhere along the way, he stops rushing to get that button up back on, and stays in bed with you longer. You do the yapping most of the time, but he lets you lay on his chest, wrapped in his strong arms as you do it. 

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

Thinks the idea of having a favorite anything is stupid, let alone a favorite part of his body. But he's a hypocrite, so his hair, even though he doesn’t treat it like it is. Stuffing those black curls into his baseball cap, leaving the roots sweat slicked and the ends that peek out spattered with dust from the last chase. He doesn't do anything to it other than shampoo and conditioner, dry shampoo if it's a real rough one. Despite that, it's still full and healthy. You must also be a big fan of his hair, especially with how much you pull on it.

He likes your voice, though that isn't really a body part, so maybe your vocal cords? So stupid. He doesn’t talk much, you do. Or at least you do to balance out his silence. And as annoyed as he might act, saying things like, “You've got a mouth that won't quit,” and “Shut up.” He doesn't actually want you to shut up. Even if you clamp up about something, he'll notice and get you talking again in his own way. He likes having to muffle you when you get whiny in those spaces where the walls are a little too thin.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

Scott is incredibly responsible; there will be no Plan B runs on his watch. So no matter how much you beg, he's not coming in you without a condom. Oh, you're on birth control? That's only effective, like, 99% of the time. And you're kind of a dumbass (a bit forgetful), he doesn't trust that you remember to take it every single day without fail, which drops it to 93 – 91% effectiveness. Yeah, fuck no.

Now, coming in your mouth? …He's listening. 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Scott likes blowjobs—really, he does. He loves fucking into your mouth, and you just taking it. He loves holding you down as you gag and choke, making the dark hair at his crotch even darker with spit and precum. He loves feeling your cheeks flush with warmth and endurance in his much bigger hands, puffed up as you struggle to take all of him. He loves when you stare up at him, eyes wet and lips wrapped around him as one of your hands go down to your clit—knowing that pleasuring him gets you wet. He even loves putting a hand behind your neck and keeping you still as you pat his leg, becoming increasingly frantic, before finally letting you up. He especially loves that split-second panic in your eye, the gasp for air, how eager you are to get him back in your mouth—Scott's a man of very few pleasures, but this is chief among them.

Be that as it may, he'll never ask for one. He'll sit with his arms crossed, legs spread, eyes unreadable behind those shades. And he'll do the same in the motel room, but without the glasses, sitting on the edge of your bed. He's got the patience to wait until you want to give him one, making you beg to blow him.

It's a power thing, sure, but it's also a surefire way of making sure you know what you're getting yourself into. And when you do, he'll wipe the tears from your cheeks with a surprisingly gentle thumb, and tell you how pretty you look.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Have you seen him? 6’4, muscular, a pretty face, and a bitchy attitude. He's had no shortage of people throwing themselves at him. Even grown women while he was in high school, not that he ever humored them past a scoff and a roll of his eyes. Despite all of that, his body count isn't particularly high. He didn't start doing casual hook-ups until he was at MIT, and even then, he was more focused on his academics than anything else. Plus, it's kind of hard getting anyone into his motel bed when he's busy chasing tornadoes.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

His favorite position is the same regardless of whether you’re a Wrangler or not, but for different reasons. Missionary. Yeah, you heard right. Nothing fancy, nothing gymnastic. Just him on top, holding your hips like you’re gonna float away otherwise. If you’re StormPAR, he’s partial to how his face is close enough to brush against yours. If you’re a Wrangler, it’s not about laziness—it never is with him—it’s about control. Eye contact. How deep he can get. How still he can keep you.

If you're whining about wanting something else, maybe doggy or cowgirl for a change, he’ll let you get your way once. Then flip you back over like it offended him personally. “This works better,” he mutters, as if that’s the end of the conversation.

It is. 

Besides, if he’s doing his job right, what position you’re in will be the last thing on your mind

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Very serious, actually. If you tried to tell a joke in the middle of him getting down to business, he'd stop, furrow his brow, before redoubling his efforts as if he's the IRS and your pussy commited tax fraud. The way he sees it, the correct way, he must not be doing it right if you're able to make jokes. Depending on what you say or do, he's liable to leave all together. Way to ruin the mood.

The things he does find funny in the midst of all this are things you certainly won't laugh at. The way you beg even though you know it's not gonna get you anywhere with him—that'll make him smirk.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Trimmed a bit for his own comfort, if anything. Doesn't like the sensation of hair being pulled by the material of his boxer briefs. And if by match the drapes, you mean thick and dark, then yeah. They're fucking identical. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

Wranglers!reader: Don’t expect candlelight. Don’t expect whispered confessions. You might get a grunt of approval or a single hand over your ribs when you shiver. That’s the kind of affection you get—a little rough, a little absent-minded, the kind you’ll definitely read into even after he explicitly told you not to. He’s not withholding it for any malicious reason; it’s just not the kind of relationship you two have. The end.

Storm PAR!reader: It creeps in slowly. The first time he cradles the back of your head like it matters. The way he says your name—not loudly, not breathlessly, just quiet. Steady. Like it should mean more than a few syllables. And to him, it does. You won’t get sweet nothings, but you’ll feel something weightier. He may not say “I love you,” but he’ll mean it when he moves slow. When he doesn’t pull out of you for a while. When he lingers in the stillness after, forehead against yours, breathing synced. When he lets you lay on him, an action many would overlook for how simple it is. But you don’t. You know how significant this is, and that’s likely why he does it.

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

Not really, no. He's busy, and when he's not busy, he's fucking exhausted. If he actually gets the urge, he'll get someone to solve it with (you).

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Guess it depends on how you define it. For Scott, it’s simply things he enjoys doing. Like making you go dumb with pleasure—your head too fogged up to say anything coherent, babbling whatever you think will get you to come the fastest. He likes fingering you, he likes the physicality of pistoning one, two, three of his thick fingers into you and how you always gasp like it’s the first time. He likes making you cry.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

StormPAR!Reader: Motel beds. Not because they’re sexy—because they’re temporary. Low expectations. Peeling wallpaper. The kind of bed you don’t feel bad fucking the hell out of. And the novelty of it? You, sprawled under him in a new shitty town every week—it gets under his skin.

Wrangler!Reader: The backseat of his SUV, or the idea of it, rather. Considering your teams aren’t in the same motel most of the time, you’ll have to make do with what you have and what you have is Scott picking you up in his truck deep into the AM and a secluded parking lot. It’s cramped, it’s uncomfortable, it smells faintly like gasoline and rain—but the windows fog up fast, and that’s enough privacy for him. 

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Mouthy. Stubborn. A little bit of a brat, if we’re being honest. You getting mad at him? Hot. You getting clingy in the middle of an argument? Hot. You trying to stay mad while he backs you against a wall and says, “You done yet?”—really hot.

But nothing gets him harder than you begging. Not performative, fake porn whining—actual needing. Whispered “please”s, broken voice, that desperation in your eyes like he’s the only thing that can fix it. He lives for that.

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No open relationship, whatever form that may take. Scott doesn't like to share, never has, never will. With anyone. Girl or guy, doesn't matter. There's very little outside of his job that he gives a damn about. You fall in that category, even if you’re not in a relationship (likely his fault), he still sees you as his. He's possessive, sue him.

No public sex. At least, not in certain circumstances. Nowhere you can be found out by your coworkers, that goes for the Wranglers and Storm PAR. He's got a reputation to maintain. And he's not too eager to get a public indecency charge either. Let's just keep the private stuff private. It's your fault for falling in love with a stickler. 

Anal. Not into it, never got the hype around it. Thinks it’s too “dirty” and you're not convincing him otherwise. If that's someone's thing, power to them. He’s definitely judging, but power to them. You're definitely not getting anywhere near his either, FYI.

Anything to do with piss or vomit. Let's just keep the body fluids to spit and cum, alright?

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

You already know how he feels about getting head, but he isn't opposed to giving it either. You're less likely to get it if you're a Wrangler primarily because you're a little short on time. But other than that, you're in good hands. Takes it as seriously as he does everything else. Kneels on the bed, yanks you down by your ankles, slaps your hands away when you try to escape the overstimulation—y'know, the works.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on a couple of factors. His mood, if you or someone else pissed him off at some point that day—highly likely—, what you ask for. But mainly, how much time you've got.

Once you're official and time and discretion are lower on his list of priorities, you'll start having more sensual, more intense sex that feels incredibly…personal. In fact, it's likely the first time you had sex like this while you were still “casual” that made you both go “...wow.” afterwards.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Until you're official, they're all you're getting. 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Scott is not what you’d call adventurous. Ironic considering his job. He likes control. He likes knowing the outcome. He’ll try new things if you ask, and if you’re convincing enough—it's like pitching a business venture on Shark Tank—but don’t get too wild. No ropes, no blindfolds, nothing that leaves marks someone else could see. (That of course goes out the window when you're officially together.)

You want to try something new? Sure. Just don’t push him past his comfort zone unless you’re ready for him to stop, get dressed, and act like you didn’t just have your fingers inside his mouth five minutes ago.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

One good round—two if he’s in a certain mood, or if you’ve been pissing him off all day. He’s not a machine, and he’s not interested in marathon sessions for the sake of it. He fucks with purpose.

He’s more of a “stretch it out, make it count” kind of guy. He’ll edge you twice before you get to come, but when you do? It’s gonna take the strength out of your legs.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

No toys for himself. That’s too much maintenance. But for you? Yeah. He's got a couple things tucked away—not because he needs them, but because he likes using them on you. Likes watching you squirm with a vibrator against your clit while he holds it there. Likes keeping you on edge until you cry a little. Then finally—finally—he gives you what you want. And nothing he's bought himself, he's commandeered whatever you have to use on you.

Don't think you can hide it from him, don't think he doesn't know—he does, he's gone through your shit. And don't think he's not gonna make fun of you for it—he will.

But he’ll never call them toys. “Shit that helps,” he’ll say, tossing it aside when he’s done.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Painfully unfair. You’re lucky if he lets you come the first time. He’ll edge you until you’re shaking, then pull back and go, “Don’t pout.” If you try to get yourself off, he’ll smack your hand away and look deeply unimpressed.

But the second you turn the tables? Act like you don’t care? He’ll get mean about it—mouth between your thighs before you can finish your sentence. He doesn’t like being ignored, especially not by you.  

And don't tell him this, but he is a bit of a brat. He can dish it, and he can somewhat take it, but nowhere near as well as he's oh so confident he can.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Low. Controlled. Quiet. You might get the occasional grunt, or a muttered curse under his breath, but that’s it. The louder you are, the more intense he gets—he’s chasing those sounds like a man possessed.

Every now and then, though, if you catch him off guard—he groans. Deep in his chest. A sound so raw it makes you clench instinctively. You won’t hear it often. But when you do, you’ll think about it for days.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

After you two start dating, Scott keeps a photo of you in his glove compartment. Nothing scandalous—just you, sunlit and smiling, hand shielding your eyes. He tells himself it’s for “morale,” something to look at between storms. But the photo’s got a worn crease down the middle, and the edges are soft from how often he touches it.

He pretends he’s not sentimental. He is.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Thick. Veiny. Not huge, but impressive. The kind that leaves a weight in your throat when you try to take it all. Uncut. Warm. And you don’t need to see it to know how much it’s gonna hurt the first time he really stops holding back, though the bulge through his slacks certainly helps.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

High, but well-managed. He can go weeks without it if work demands. But if he sees you? If you touch him right, look at him too long, chew on your bottom lip while you argue—he’s unbuckling his belt with zero hesitation.

He doesn’t act on it often. But it’s always there.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Depends on the day. If it was a long storm run, he’s out in five minutes, breathing heavy with a hand still resting on your hip like he doesn’t want you to move. He usually wakes up before you so he doesn't have to reckon with the fact that he clutches you to his chest in his sleep. 

But when the clock struck one and he sped out of the parking lot in confidence that everyone had averted their eyes in sleep, you sensed something was different—or awakening—within him. The Storm Par truck found itself tucked into an alcove surrounded by trees on every side and the lights cut as quick as it was put into park.

You turned your head to look at him yet he was halfway out the door and all you could spur was, that was fast.

And perhaps it had been awhile since you’d been alone together in this capacity. The summers raged longer and with it the storms more frequent and severe, therefore it made your priority of getting laid less important than helping the people who no longer had a bed.

“Scott—“ you called out to him, unbuckling yourself as he slammed the door and opened the back seat. His face was flustered, cheeks inflamed a pinkish red of strife and want.

“Get in the back,” he said sternly in reply.

You furrowed your brows, mouth slightly agape at his brash words. Scott was a fucking asshole ninety-nine percent of the time, it shouldn’t have been a surprise.

He huffed at your inaction. A hand on the door, he put the other on the headrest on the back seat.

“Well?”

“Well what?” You asked. “You didn’t ask nicely.”

With Scott, you knew the boundaries he had. Everyone played a game around him that made their shoes crack the eggshells he littered in front of him. You hated it. He wasn’t perfect and by far, neither were you so why the fuck would you give into him so easily?

You imagined that was a reason he kept seeking you out again. Months of this, nothing more, and Scott returned time and time again to a grip he’d say your pussy had on his dick but you thought in honestly that you wanted him to fall in love with you—the glitter in your eyes as you teased him, each meeting between you growing longer and more personal.

And shit, if you haven’t daydreamed of what a serious version of the “thing” you had together was you’d be lying. One of Scott was handsome, but two in the long run? That boy would replace you in a heartbeat.

“Just get in the back,” he complained. “Please.”

You smiled sweetly at him. “Better.”

Scott shook his head and grabbed your hand as you fumbled yourself into the back seat. He wasted no time sliding into the seat next you, slamming his door closed again, and grasping your face with both of his hands.

His kiss was bruising. Heavy and holding, it was as though he was coming home from war, not a few weeks of chasing different storms. You held onto his wrists as he maneuvered you, head tilting the way he wanted it to as he kissed you over and over again and his lips glued themselves to yours in the dark.

Scott began to pull back, letting his teeth catch your bottom lip as he separated himself from you and breathed in deeply. He didn’t bother filling in the space with words before he returned his lips to yours and releasing his grip on you to move you freely.

You accepted the release on your face. You tipped your head backwards into the seat, swallowing the sounds of your throat before they could form actual words. Scott’s hands lingered down your body; squeezing and soothing the path to your thighs as he pushed your legs apart and glided you into his lap as seamlessly as he could in a truck like his.

Using the leverage the heigh above him gave, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and your fingers found his hair quickly. Scott’s hat had long gone from his head and the sweat of the borders heat was making itself known on the base of his neck.

Scott guided your hips to ground down onto him. Holding you still on him, he caressed your back and massaged his hands to your ass—the move pulling you further into him and the erection growing in his pants.

You were curious to grind your hips against him. Moving in a figure eight, you let his hands guide you in motions that fostered a growing wetness in your underwear as Scott’s tongue found purchase inside of your mouth. You hummed in content while the further motions of your hips and the pressure of his hands were driving you crazy.

The normal necessary preparation wouldn’t be needed if he kept it up. You’d be long a goner if Scott just simply took control and led the way for your bliss.

He removed his hands from your ass and slowly transitioned them to your hips. One of them broke free and rested in a position he’d never placed it in—at the bottom of your stomach. You didn’t stop kissing him or moving or even questioned his motives when he did so because you were just so damn occupied with the man like putty in your hands.

It could have been the buttons of your pants or to grasp the fabric between his palm but when it didn’t move, you began to wonder more than just what was going on beneath his pants. It was curious and concerning, stalling and breaking everything you had been doing as you pulled away from him.

“What?” You asked breathlessly.

Scott wet his lips, shaking his head absentmindedly yet you could see in the darkness that whatever was going through his mind didn’t reach his eyes.

“Nothing,” he replied.

“Are you—“

Scott cut you off only to capture your lips again. He weaved a hand to the back of your head and grunted as you lifted slightly off his lap and back down. Tilting your head at an angle that suited him, he deepened the kiss, ravishing you in ways you can recall ever being kissed.

It was different. It was like a switch went off but while his hands groped at you and his tongue dominated yours, it was still… vanilla.

When his lips conveniently caught the edge of your mouth and not your lips, he trailed kisses down the column of your neck and felt at the fabric of your clothes.

“Scott,” you said with a huff. “Are we going to get off like two fucking teenagers or are you going to fuck me?"

His teeth grazed the side of your neck, pulling the skin in irritation at your command. He was the asshole, he did the ordering.

Scott moved his head back to look at you. You had a sheen in your eyes that told him what you wanted; silently pleading for him to get on with it and let you seek the pleasure you wanted but all he could really think of is a thought that popped into his head that morning.

He knew he was going to see you and ultimately the collision would end up with the two of you sweating like dogs somewhere because you just couldn’t stop yourselves from making up for lost time.

The time factor of it caused his mind to go on its own tangent. Sitting in the passenger seat of the truck made him think of his bland childhood and family and somehow, it landed to you—suddenly eclipsed with the idea of children and you.

You and children; you pregnant with his child; you full of only him.

And then he had to get his rocks off in a gas station bathroom because he couldn’t stop imagining what you’d look like growing his kid.

Scott shifted his hands to the front of your body, squeezing down on your breasts. They’d be double the size if you were pregnant.

Those thoughts brought him no shame.

But he didn’t answer you. He was in rapture sitting there and staring at you while your brows furrowed and buried in confusion.

“Scott?”

He squeezed again. Running a soothing palm over your tits in relief, his eyes flipped up to meet yours. You could feel his breath deepening on your face.

“Sc-“

“I want to fill you up.”

Your head tweaked in surprise.

“W-what?” You stuttered at him. He hadn’t let go of your breasts, just sat there with his hands on them. You’d never seen Scott entranced by you before.

“Let me finish in you,” he proposed seriously. You’d never not used a condom before, you’d never had this kind of conversation because he’d never been one to indicate that this situation was more than a “good time” or “stress relief.”

“You want to come in me?”

The hand on your stomach, the lingering feel of your tits.

“Oh,” you mumbled. “Well we’ve never…”

“I know,” he grumbled as though this entire conversation was killing the boner in his pants. He was still prodding at your ass so in your mind, whatever he was imagining wasn’t leading him to not fucking you.

“I don’t think I’m ready for a kid yet, Scott.”

“No,” he shook his head and finally moved his hands away from you to rest at your waist. “That’s not—no. You can take a pill or whatever but can you see it?”

The picture he paints is a vivid one.

And one you hadn’t thought to imagine with anyone you’d been with before.

“Baby,” he started, “I can’t fucking get it out of my head. You, all round and full of me. You fucking body would look…” he gripped at your waist. “And your tits… fuck me, sweetheart. You’d be the sexiest fucking thing on the planet I swear to god and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“S-“

“Haven’t you wanted to feel me? Really feel me? Not with any of that rubber bullshit to get in the way. How good I’d feel inside of you and how good you’d feel when I’d leak out of you.”

You let out the smallest gasp at his words—Scott had never been this blatant before. Condescending, rude, even, but not so willing to speak his mind beyond a standard porn-dictionary of lingo.

“Let’s try it, hm?” He hummed. His hands worked the bottom of your top, fingers grazing your skin. “One time and if you fuckin’ hate it, then I won’t bring it up again."

“I didn’t say I would hate it,” you helped him remove your top. “You just didn’t let me get any words out.”

Scott smiled in the slightest. A winning smirk forming on his face as his fingers worked the clasp of your bra efficiently. You slid the straps from your arms and tugged at the bottom of his shirt, Storm Par emblem patched to the right above his chest.

“I don’t mind it,” you clarified. In fact, you were more than enticed by the idea. You loved when he left his mark in different ways—a burn from his stubble between your thighs, a hickey or three in places your clothes wouldn’t expose on the camera.

What more was marking his territory in a hypothetical way?

You sat up on your knees on either side of him. Your head barely skimmed the roof of the truck and the logistics of how you’d do this in the vehicle weren’t important—it was the what. Looking into his eyes, you tilted your head to the side as he unbuttoned your bottoms.

“What if I want you to claim me?” You questioned. “Make me so fucking full of you that I can’t hold anyone else, only you.”

“No one else,” he warned.

Scott helped slide your bottoms and underwear down quickly.

“You wanna put a baby in me, huh?” You cooed at him. Naked in full, you took the charge of releasing him from his jeans and allowing him to help shimmy them down his legs. His cock laid heavy, perched tall and sloping towards his thigh.

You leaned forward, feet finding purchase on his thick thighs as he cupped your ass and groped further. You took him in one of your hands and began to pump him slowly. Too slowly in his own terms but the words kept tumbling from your lips. So wanton, needy.

“What if I want you to?” Biting on your lip, you teased his tip with your thumb. Swiping it over and gathering a bit of wetness he’d long released in excitement.

“Get me all full and big and round with your baby. How I’d be so goddamn horny all the time and wanting to fuck everywhere. And my tits,” you pushed yourself up a bit on your knees. The breasts he admired pert and alert against his bare chest. “With all that milk? And you could help me make them feel so so fucking good.”

You have him your best doe eyes.

“What do you say, honey?”

Scott move fingers to your cunt to gauge your readiness. You were dripping for him. Soaked to the point where all he had to do was swipe two fingers through your core and gather the wetness at the tips. He crudely brought them to your lips and you offered a silent plea. You sucked on them, tasting your spent.

“I’m gonna fuck you, baby, and when we’re done, your gonna want a fucking kid so badly that you’ll be begging me for one.”

You guided his dick to your entrance and sank down on him. Relishing the stretch and stuttering breath you released every inch of progress that he made inside. It was always so sweet, so perfect of a feeling that it made you want to make him love you forever so you’d never forget the feeling. An eternity of loving an unlovable fucker who knew how to hit all of your buttons in the most wonderful of ways.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasped as he bottomed out and filled you to the brim. Scott grunted and his hold was bruising. He was incredibly enamored at the sentiment of you giving in to his vision that he couldn’t help but seek control now that he had you in the palm of his hand.

You get felt plush and smooth, different than what he was familiar with under the protection of a Trojan. Scott knew you sensed it too; the deeper hold each one held on the other and the way your jaw didn’t fully close at your gasps.

“You feel so good, baby,” he groaned. He helped lift your hips as you settled, pulling himself out of your warmth for the coolness of the car to hit the slick that now covered his length generously. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Gotta fuck me, Scott,” you closed your eyes as he pulled you back down and then again, up and down, up and down. The hairs on your head barely grazed the rooftop in his careful hands yet all you could feel was the need to let go. “You gotta fuckin’ give it to me.”

“Yeah?” He grunted with his teeth.

Averting to deep, harsh thrusts, Scott could only do as you please. The control was leaving him.

“Let me give it to you,” he spoke. “Let me give you a baby and you’ll be so drunk off me you won’t want another fucking cock in your life.”

Rutting in and out, his dick filled your pussy to the brim. Completely losing sight of what was right, left or center, you were far gone sooner than you thought.

“So tight for me,” Scott kept his verbal assurance going. “Oh, you fuckin’ feel that?”

Your legs quivered in strain. Muscles taught from sitting and working them intently stung hotly. You shook before an orgasm had even reached you—but you could feel it building.

“Yes,” you moaned into the air. “Shit.”

He admired the loss of your sensibility. Scott chuckled, growling in a way you hadn’t hear and didn’t think he could do. There was something so pornographic about him here; new and awakening like a part of him had been discovered after a shitty wet dream he garnered in his mind.

You have a high-pitched squeak as a particular thrust sent you reeling. It was becoming unrelenting. Over and over and over he pounded into you and it was starting to become numb with wait. Your slick was sent down your open legs, wetting the sides of where yours met the tops of his thighs and your feet had lost feeling a long time ago.

The windows of the car began to steam up like a movie. A handprint on the back window, it slid with friction every time you tried to readjust it.

He felt so good inside of you.

“S-sc-“ you couldn’t get his name out. The only sounds were wordless grunts and moans and nothing else.

“Hold on, baby,” he spat. He pumped hard and harder until the sound of skin slapping together and meeting in a drenched spot became all too loud. “Hold on, baby. You’re gonna wait for me, wait for me.”

You tried so hard. Legs shaking and nerves ready to burst, you could barely handle the way your hands trembled at the sensation. The utter relief of a strong finish looming ahead and yet, he wouldn’t let it happen until he’d come too.

But Scott was never far behind—you liked to believe it was your superpower.

“Not yet,” he grunted. “Don’t you fuckin’ come yet, sweetheart. We’re gonna do this together, yeah? Me and you—but fuck two of you would be fucking amazing baby.”

Not two of you to have sex with—two of you both to love and nurture.

“I-I’m gonna come, S-Scott, fuck me,” you barely choked out. “Come with me, please. Come on. Make me so full.”

And in a couple thrusts he spilled inside of you. You met him there at the precipice; towers crumbling around you as the shattered glass at your feet tingled in the absence of true feeling. Everything was a blur, one hot white light.

It was the best goddamn orgasm you’d ever had.

Your hands shook as much as your legs were. It was like a fucking exorcism took place and you were finding yourself again. Scott jutted his hips into you, burying his cock as far as he could go as the vice grip of your cunt swallowed every piece that he gave.

His head fell onto you chest. Hair stringy with sweat and the slick of beads that he met on your chest were more comforting than he thought they’d be. You twisted your fingers into his hair as he held onto you. Hands finding a more respectable spot around your waist and up your back, Scott hugged you tightly to him.

Even in the event of discovering a new kink, Scott’s mind kept that painting of a future locked in safety—away from the shit he did on a daily basis and away from you because every time it was brought up or found itself again in the bedroom or the tub or the floor or the couch, he was left wanting more.

The awkward trips down the Walgreens aisle and asking the workers to open the Plan B locked behind glass was too much.

He wanted to make it a reality. He wanted you to make him fall in love and down the line, maybe he’d have two of you to love in different ways.

Thanks so much for reading and as always, likes, but most importantly reblogs and comments keep writers writing. I appreciate you taking the time out of your day to escape with me—enjoy!

The skies of Oklahoma rose into a gloomy beige on a Friday afternoon. Heat lingered in the air, heavy and unyielding. It was dense outside of the small gas station that sat alongside the fork in the road.

Everyone could smell it: the anticipation of a storm. They broke earlier every year and this season appeared to be no different at first glance. The radios were filled with the familiar constant chatter, the computer screens you shared with Dexter in the lot were running the same radar’s the morning predicted.

Not everyday was as exciting as the next, however.

“Shit,” Dexter mumbled, running a hand over his eyes in frustration as the storms weren’t breaking that evening. His glasses perched on his fingers before he brought his hand back down to his computer.

It was just rain. In an era of record tornados, tonight would be quiet sans the few sparks of lightning and the thunder that followed.

“Nothin’” he flicked the laptop screen closed before him, knocking you on the shoulder as your own screen took all your attention.

Your eyes were entranced by the Doppler's movements. The back and forth of the projections coming and going in shades of green and yellow but no red. No purples or the darkest blues to send the lot of you running toward danger.

Dexter bumped you again with a focused effort.

“What?” You mumbled, clicking the refresh button on the radar’s program. Nothing changed.

“I think we’re done for the day.”

“It’s like six-thirty, Dex” you shrugged, turning to face him with a squint as the half-set sun was in your line of vision. “Somethin’ might pop up.”

“Omega says not,” he put a finger on his closed computer. “It dissipates before it can get out of bed.”

“Yeah,” you sighed as he did before. “Shit.”

Breathing in deeply, you could still smell it. Those storms were on the horizon and just waiting for the perfect moment to grow but you all have waited around these parts of Oklahoma begging for something that was not going to appear a hundred times.

Today was just one of those days.

You shut your own computer with the thud. Rolling your shoulders, Dexter clapped a hand on your back and chuckled at the prospect of another day without a tornado.

“Tomorrow’s chances are just as good,” he reassured.

“I know,” you nodded. The buzzing of Lily’s drone overhead swished by slowly as it came to land.

“Why don’t you go tell ‘em and I’ll clean up before we move out, hm? Get dinner and relax.”

Dexter didn’t allow the chance for you to argue back and made for the computers immediately. You groaned, standing up from the milk crate Boone scoured from the side of the road for “portable seating.” They were a bitch to your back and after sitting and watching the screen for what felt like hours, your body was screaming for help.

You stretched your arms high above your shoulders to rest them interlocked on your head and closed your eyes.

Maybe it was a sign. No storms, good sleep, and a hot meal from a wayside diner in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere. It was comfort, it was home and it was a relief for an instant that the skies were tame. No one would die from nature tonight in the vicinity of your chasing—an adjustment from the last month.

So you envisioned in your closed eyes the peace the evening would bring. How the sheets of the motel’s bed would feel against your legs; the sound of air conditioning fanning and sending you into a deep slumber.

The imagination of an evening molded into scenes under your eyelids.

Like the thunder everyone wished to hear, you could practically feel the rumblings of his fingertips as you imagined them on your skin. A lingering hope of days gone by without seeing him and his team of assholes started to stir in your mind every time it had a second to not think of the weather.

You hated the way it made you feel.

Like a goddamn school girl who couldn’t control a crush but it was more than that. It wasn’t a fatal fantasy you’d imagined every time your paths crossed but one cemented in your memory to hold you off until the next time he caught you in the same place.

And you saw him in your idea of a decent night.

In the distance, Dani and Lily called your name from outside of the RV. You cracked an eye open to see the two of them waving, pointing toward the diner attached to the station.

Your arms fell, turning to Dexter who passed it off.

“Go,” he shook his head, “I’ll join you when I’m done.”

You’d be lying if the sound of food didn’t sound wonderful that very second. The day had been nothing but driving and sitting. Every bit of food was junk besides the apple Boone threw your way at noon. He had been the first one to run into the diner an hour before with Tyler hot on his tail.

They were gluttons for greasy homemade meals.

“Come on!” Dani yelled as she held open the door and you broke off from Dexter to join the two for dinner.

The diner was like any other hole in the wall establishment in middle America. Sparse hangings on the wall, chairs and booths made from cheap leather that had burns and slashes through them, and menus that haven’t been updated for twenty years.

They were the best places. They were what made the small towns in between the big ones staples. No one could pinpoint this town on a map but the second the tea is sipped and the spuds are downed, it’s something you couldn’t forget.

“We’re gonna shack up in Perry tonight,” Dani spoke with her mouth half full. “‘Bout a half hour from here.”

“Tyler alright with that?” Lily asked, glancing out the diner window. “I thought he wanted to stay ahead of them?”

Them.

You sipped on your iced tea casually.

“We will be heading in that direction anyway.”

“Ain’t there a lake down in Perry?” Lily inquired, racking her mind in hopes she could remember. Dani nodded and picked up her own glass.

“Mhm,” she hummed. “And I do plan on jumpin’ in it before we leave tomorrow.”

Lily smiled as she turned her attention to you. She wasn’t oblivious to your absence from the conversation. You were quiet and reserved. Maybe it was that time of the month or you had a bad day—but it was strange and she furrowed her brows, kicking at your foot with hers from under the table.

“Don’t got anything to say?” She asked, causing Dani to look over the glass at you.

“No,” you dismissed. “Just tired, that’s all.”

“I’ve got Advil if you need it,” Lily went to dig in her bag but you stopped her.

“No, no,” you shook your head. “Really. Just feels like a long day is all. Finding nothin' is frustrating and this heat..."

“I get you,” Dani scoffed and put her cup down. “This heat is awful. I think Boone’s music is starting to get to me.”

You laughed knowingly. “It’s better than listening to him scream into the camera for twenty minutes."

The two snickered at the thought. Anything was better than the sound of his screeching. You pushed around the remnants of your meal around your plate when the waitress came back to fill up the glasses, leaving the check. A chorus of 'thank you's' were followed by the bell ringing above the diner's rickety door.

"Oh Lord," Lily muttered and went back to looking out the window. She crossed her arms like a pouting child. Out the window, Boone was yelling inaudible jests at the white shirts making their way into the establishment.

"What?" You asked her, turning over in your seat to see the crew of Storm Par filing in one by one.

In their uniforms of slacks and white shirts, they gave their most polite smiles to the staff that ate out of the palms of their hands. Dani let out a groan of frustration. Rich men, educated men. Men.

"Just the fraternity, Doc," Dani replied as though your eyes couldn't see that. You shot her a judgmental scowl before glancing at the group again.

"I thought I told you not to call me that."

It was the PhD in physics that earned you the affectionate, but infuriating title.

"Eh," Dani popped a piece of ice between her teeth. "You ain't like them though. They're all assholes and you're only an asshole when we can't get the signal to work and you wanna watch Love Island."

You laughed, chucking your napkin across the table which she dodged gracefully.

"Don't act like you're not obsessed with it too," Dani narrowed her eyes in faux offense.

The check at the end of the table blew in the wind generated by a few of Storm Par's team walking past. None of them spared a glance in the direction of the three of you. Out of spite or hatred, you wouldn't know but it was always the same way with most of them. It wasn't unwarranted, however. Your squad from Arkansas were known to give them as much grief as they gave you all.

You reached out to slap the check back down on the table. A glance up toward the retreating Storm Par members told you that their leaders hadn't joined the bunch at the table. You hadn't seen him enter the diner when you looked before.

But you knew the second the bell rang above the door again that it was him and likely Javi beside him. You could feel it in the air just as you did the storms. Everything shifted. The pace of your heart, the rigidness of your back, and you had done all you could in your power to keep it as quiet as possible.

You painted yourself a fake in front of the friends you adored because of Scott. He didn't ask you to, yet there was nothing more solid than agreeing to never speak of what you'd do for a second alone with him.

And you weren't sure what they'd say if they knew you were sleeping with the enemy.

With the check in your hands, you grabbed your bag from the seat and dismissed Lily and Dani's movements to split the check.

"I've got this one," you assured them. "My treat."

Lily protested and continued to shuffle through her bag. "At least lemme get the tip. How much?" Her wallet was filled with receipts and loose change.

"No," you shook your head. "Go on to the truck and I'll pay and we can head out."

Dani crunched the ice loudly. "You sure?"

"Positive," you nodded, giving them both a smile that could have read tense. You didn't mean it to be but it did. "Go on," you tipped your head. “Dex didn’t eat so I’ll order and run out when it’s ready.”

Dani eyed you as Lily put away her wallet. "I don't want to leave you alone with them in here," she knocked her head in the direction of Scott and Javi who settled along the lunch counter beside the register.

Dani watched them carefully whenever it was only the three of you. She trusted the men on your team like brothers but the others, Storm Par or any of the other groups that followed in the same direction, she held at a distance. Not only had they been somewhat competitors in the field, they were jerks and Dani could not help but be repulsed by it.

Scott looked in the direction of the small booth you all sat in, making contact with Dani's harsh stare. His face was blank—as Dani had come to realize was its factory setting. He was stoic, a wooden board of a man who was a head taller than his companion even as they sat. Dani always thought he looked miserable.

In her eyes, he was generically handsome with dimples on the sides of his cheeks. She saw other storm chasers give him eyes but he never entertained it. He was boring, a dud.

Not one person could make that man crack a smile or have an ounce of joy weep from him—but she supposed it was perfect for the work they conducted.

"I can handle myself, Dani–besides, there are other people in here."

She shook her head, souring her face. "You know I don't like 'em."

"Neither do I," you laughed. Liar. "I got this. It’s okay."

Dani trusted your word and exited the diner with Lily while you made your way to the register.

Scott had taken his baseball cap off his head, sliding it into the back pocket of his pants and pushing his sunglasses into his hair. Javi made niceties with the same waitress that had assisted you upon your approach. You saddled up to lean on the counter in the empty space between Scott and the register that broke apart the counter from the other patrons. It wasn't crowded as a restaurant in the middle of a city would be. It was filed with locals that made it feel welcoming.

"I'll be with you in one second, ma'am," the woman who served, in a name-tag labeled 'Kathy', called over to you as she jotted down Javi's order.

You took the bag from your shoulder to place it on the counter in front of you. The base of it brushed Scott's shoulder, nudging him purposefully.

"Sorry," you said quietly as Javi finished up beside him. Scott looked over at you–his stormy blues baring into you and sending you into a spiral of blind faith.

“Not out wrangling tornados tonight?” He questioned in a condescending tone. His brow quirked in a challenge: play along. You could never be civil in public.

“Maybe if you were good at reading radar you’d know that already.”

He scoffed. “Wh—“

“And for you sir?” Kathy, the waitress, cut him off with a tap of her pen. Javi stifled a laugh as Scott faced her with a half-baked expression of annoyance. You turned to thumbing through your bag for your wallet.

“Ah,” Scott stuttered as he looked over the menu. “A coffee—“

“Cream or Sugar?” Kathy drawled. She must have been in her sixties but she was giving Scott the best impression of a flirt at the moment.

“Black, please.”

“Of course, honey.”

Javi turned his head away from Scott to chuckle like a little boy. You smiled to yourself as the contents of your bag were suddenly so very interesting.

“And a… turkey sandwich with fries.”

Kathy gave Scott a cheeky, wide smile with painted red lips. The thinning drugstore paint was wearing thin beyond the lining and her hay bale, yellow as corn hair was doing nothing for her.

“That’ll be right up for you boys, okay?” She gave them a wink and tore the order from her pad. “Don’t forget to order somethin’ sweet before you go—on the house.”

Kathy walked away with a sway of her hips which only worsened Javi’s laughter. The laughs spilled from his mouth without remorse as his friend tried to not turn an ugly shade of red.

“Holy,” Javi dragged out the syllables in exasperation. “You got yourself a cougar, Scott!”

You slipped your wallet to the side of your bag and looked upright waiting for her return.

“I didn’t know Mr. Storm Par had it in him,” you said, which drove Javi even deeper in laughter. Scott sighed heavily, shaking his head in disbelief. “She’ll give a napkin with a lipstick kiss… just watch.”

“Ooh man,” Javi crooned. “I ain’t missin’ that!” He got up from his stool.

“See you out there,” Javi said your name kindly—a rarity in these parts. He surely didn’t know about you and Scott but he treated you decently all the same.

He rushed off to the small hallway labeled ‘bathroom’. Small mercies for a second alone.

“Did you have to say that?” Scott commented the moment Javi was out of an earshot. He turned back to look at you so you turned to look at him with your hip digging into the counter. His legs spread wide as if to accommodate you.

“It was too good not to,” you admitted with a grin. “The old ladies love you.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, gazing at your face as his eyes darted to take you in. They trailed from your eyes to lips to chin to chest to… everywhere.

“It’s been a minute.”

“Two weeks,” you agreed.

“You been counting?”

“No,” you said quickly. “I just—“

“I was joking,” he clarified with a sly, cunning smirk.

“Ha,” you panned. “You should think about going into another career after this. I hear they’re looking for comedians.”

“Maybe I will,” he suggested. “I can mention the skeleton that tried to get with me in a diner. Though,” he thought on it, “her lipstick might find me in nightmares so probably not.”

You laughed and he smiled—also a rarity in these parts.

“Where are you off to?” He asked.

“Perry for the night. Headin’ in that direction afterwards.”

Scott hummed, tapping one of his hands on the counter as the other rested on his knee. Your eyes moved down his body in the same way he did yours.

“You?” You asked him.

“I think we’ll be makin’ our way there too.”

“Hm,” you thrummed. Kathy caught your vision as she gathered Javi’s glass and Scott’s mug in her hands. “Then I should be expecting you?”

Scott nodded his head. “Motel?”

“Right off the highway. Easy on and off.”

Scott made a noise of agreement. Kathy placed their beverages in front of them with a sweet smile. Scott glanced at the mug but returned his attention to you which she frowned at—you found it amusing. There couldn’t have been many attractive men waltzing through the diner on a weekly basis. Scott was a treat.

“Anything I can get you, hun?”

Scott shook his head. Kathy held out her hand for you to hand over the check. She wasn’t as wordy with you.

You glanced over his shoulder to the table of his crew in the back who were minding their own business. Javi had to return and put the window, your team of misfits were packing up the vehicles.

You took a chance and lifted a hand to his shirt’s collar. Taking the fabric between your fingertips, you putzed as he looked at you with a gleam in his eyes that made your stomach do summersaults.

It’s the kind of look that made your heart sink when he was so rude on the road.

“Text me when you get there, okay?” You asked him. You adjusted his collar before dropping your hand at the sight of Javi leaving the restroom.

Scott caught your eyes change and turned back around in his seat.

Kathy laid the receipt for you to sign on the counter with a bang.

“Sign, please.”

You were quick to sign and exit the space before Javi could even sit down, forgetting Dexter's order. Kathy took the receipt and while stapling it to the order, she tipped her head in the direction of you.

“She’s pretty,” was all Kathy said and left as Javi returned.

“Did she give you her number?” Javi prompted Scott who passed a confused face to his friend.

“What?”

“The waitress,” Javi chuckled. “You get ‘er number or what?”

Scott closed his eyes and swallowed the nerves that built rapidly. He thought Javi was talking about you. He may have been an ace at MIT and a dependable guy on the battlefield, but Scott nearly jumped out of the diner at the thought of Javi or anyone else finding out about his escapades with you.

It was a good secret. A great one, if he let himself think about it too long. But he’d be damned to throw everything away for the sake of a lay in the middle of Oklahoma.

And if he told himself that enough, he’d fathomed he would start believing it.

The motel was what you had dreamed about.

Soft sheets, working air conditioning, and a lovely continental breakfast in the mornings with boxes of cereal and packaged muffins. It wasn’t a five-star resort but they did the job. It was perfectly imperfect for what you were used to on the daily.

It was so much better than the floor of the RV and so unusual for the types of places Dani and Lily often chose.

When you arrived at the motel, Scott was receiving a napkin with a kiss and a number on it that went straight in the trash. Javi kept rolling with laughter and for the time being, it was something he would not live down.

But both of your minds were preoccupied with what would hold true as the sun finally set on that day.

Just like the storms, you weren’t sure where this ended or it began. You had established a routine without realizing it was happening and this game of chances was slowly evolving into a feeling difficult to hold on to.

Maybe it was everything in between the nights that made it more difficult than it needed to be.

You ached for them nonetheless.

The jolt of anticipation hit you about an hour after arriving. Showered and clean, you sat around while the news played lifelessly in the background waiting for your phone to ding but it never did. It sat there mocking you every minute that passed.

Seconds turned into minutes that turned into hours that turned into two.

You half thought about going to bed before a knock sounded at your door. Neglecting to view the visitor through the peephole, you were taken aback by the entrance.

Scott made quick work of pushing you backwards and shutting the door closed with a thud. A backpack landed in the space between the door and chair. His hands were on you immediately, immodestly cupping your face and the back of your head with a force as he kissed you—hard.

You wrapped your arms around his forearms in support of your uneasy feet. A thrill ran down your spine at the feel of his hands on you.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled between frantic kisses that took your breath away. “They,” kiss, “wouldn’t,” kiss, “stop fucking talking.”

You ran your hands down his forearms gently. “It’s okay,” you reassured him. Ignoring your doubts would manifest itself another day.

Scott nodded, his nose knocking yours before leaning back in and kissing you slowly. His mouth captured your lips softly, gently as if there was no worry of time at all. His hands trailed themselves along the sides of your neck, to your shoulders, letting yours fall from his arms in the process.

You tilted your head upwards at an angle to open up to him. His mouth moved unhurried as the sound of your heart rushed to your ears.

He broke the kiss at the feel of your hands inching toward the buckle of his jeans.

“Woah,” he chuckled lowly but didn’t pull away and didn’t tell you no. “I don’t think my old lady would appreciate you havin’ your hands all over me.”

He let you lift the tails of his dress shirt out of his pants. At a quick pace you undid the buttons.

“She was tellin’ me all about this great peach pie,” Scott kept on and on as he peppered kisses on your face. “And then,” he whispered and shrugged off his shirt. “Then she left me this nice farewell note with a kiss on it.”

Your hands stilled on his abdomen. Head pulling away rapidly with glittering amusement in your eyes, you scoffed.

“No shit… really?”

“Oh yes, really,” Scott confirmed. He stepped away from you and stripped himself of the undershirt he had on. He moved over to the bed to work on his shoes.

“Can’t go to that diner again I gather.”

Scott smiled which made his dimples stand out. He looked tired but present, and that was all you could ask for at that moment.

“Not unless I want to be scorned for never callin’ her back.”

“Eh,” you picked up the remote on the bedside table and turned up the sound. “Give it ten years.”

Scott looked over his shoulder at you as a boot dropped on the floor.

“That’s brutal.”

“Well,” you said, dropping onto the duvet. “What can I say?”

You crawled over to him and got on your knees behind him. Scott leaned his head backwards against your chest as you wrapped your arms around him. You could smell the earth in his hair. The darkness of it couldn’t shield the way a day's work remained.

Underneath your fingertips his shoulders eased up. He relaxed in your touch.

“I was counting,” you admitted. The days between.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “Me too.”

You kept one hand wrapped around his shoulders but moved the other to turn his face to the side. You planted a light kiss on his cheek, resting your forehead on the spot after. You savored the small, delicate moments that were few and far on the road.

Scott patted your arm when the quiet became too much.

“Lay down,” he instructed.

You untangled yourself from him and fell backwards on the bed. Splayed on the mattress with your knees bent, he slipped his socks off and turned around with one leg perched on the bed and the other on the floor. Scott’s hand traced the lines on your bent knees formed by the lighting of the room. He watched you adjust your body for comfort in his observance.

He’d be a fool to say you weren’t igniting a fire in him.

There were nights where he’d find you angry at him, the fuck that followed heated and he’d mark you with bruising kisses to remind you of it. There were some hurried and frantic—usually following a close encounter by either of you but the ones where it was slow… they were rare.

And looked down at you with adoration he couldn’t express. His eyes were telling yet he never said words that reaffirmed he cared for you more than he looked forward to your next meeting or that he thought about you—in the shower or in passing, Scott never clarified.

Scott pushed open your legs to accommodate him. He took in the oversized tourist tee that helped cover the pair of sleep shorts of his next conquest. Without hesitation, he grabbed at the waistband of the shorts and pulled them down your legs quickly.

He ticked at you at the sight of you bare before him.

“Were you expecting someone?” He chastised jokingly. “That’s a little presumptuous.”

“Maybe,” you cooed. He grasped you by the back of your knees and pulled you down the bed before getting on his own.

“There’s always a some guy followin’ us around in these parts. Sometimes I’ll let him in.”

“Oh?” His breath was hot on your thigh. A kiss laid as he maneuvered himself to your center and you tossed your head back to stare at the ceiling.

“Mhm,” you hummed. You bit your lip to fight a smile when his familiar lips kissed at the crux of your leg and groin.

“Handsome with this cute smile no one ever sees.”

You felt your breath stagger as he moved to the most wanton part of you and licked a line through you. His eyes watched you intently; the slow rise and fall of your chest, the way your hands begged for something to grasp on. His nose bumped your clit as he got comfortable with a rhythm. Scott savored the way his tongue gathered your wetness, pushing against your plush walls.

You were trying so hard to be quiet. The walls of hotels were thin—you weren’t an idiot. It was a miracle that the man you fucked wasn’t a talker most of the time.

Scott’s tongue was warm against you. Lapping in a way that made you lose the breath inside. He was slow, soft in his movements that made you want to squirm.

You could feel your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. Head pressing harshly against the comforter of the bed, your body hooked itself into an arch at his ministrations. A lewd, antagonizing sound of your pleasure being had by a man whose eyes bore deep into the way your body moved at his will sent you spinning.

Scott shifted himself on the bed. His feet propelled him upwards but he never let go, his hands nor mouth. He pushed you upwards on the bed and wrapped an arm around your leg to rest on your lower abdomen.

The change caught the words in your mouth.

Scott, occupied, still watched you unravel like putty. His eyes watched you focus on anything but his face and in an attempt to get your attention, his hand on your stomach moved to fiddle with your shirt that had not made it to the floor.

Your hand was quick to fold over his, squeezing tightly. His fingers flexed back.

“Oh,” you keened. In an effort to stay quiet, your other hands fingers pressed against your lips. The fire within you grew hotter.

Moving his hand from yours, he shifted to spread open your lips and gather the wetness on his tongue. Scott titled his head upwards and sucked on your clit that had you spinning. Your free hand went straight to his head and settled in his brown locks.

“F-fuck,” you stuttered as your toes curled and your hips rutted against his face unabashedly.

Scott’s other hand was long missing from your body as the one focused on you was hard at work with your satisfaction. He palmed at himself in his pants the best he could. The angle wasn’t working and soon, he’d need a reprieve.

The muscles in your body tensed. They began to shake not from a release, but an anticipation of one growing. The more you moved, the more Scott wanted to let go and slip inside of you.

He slowed his tongue to small, sensual flicks reminiscent of him bringing you back from a high you hadn’t yet reached. Pulling back on you, his lips caught with a trail of your slick and his spit. Scott ran his tongue over his lips—taking with him the taste of you.

“Move up,” he instructed, voice hoarse.

You sat up on your elbows and moved upwards on the bed as he stood up. He walked back to the chair beside the door where his belongings had ended up when he first burst through the door.

If you were attempting to be sly, your eyes navigated his body on display. Scott fully undid his belt and chucked his phone on the chair beside it. He shuffled out of his pants and briefs—pausing when the screen on his phone lit up with a text.

You couldn’t read it from the distance between you but he left it unread, turning back to you as your focus narrowed to his dick freely standing.

“My eyes are up here,” he rolled his eyes.

“I’m admiring,” you drawled. You ran a hand up your body and bent it behind your head on the pillows. “Can’t a girl admire? I mean…”

“She can,” he nodded in implying you can.

Scott took himself in his hands, pumping as he approached the bed again. He didn’t need to ask the ways in which to make both of you happy. He could read the room and the days and knew that what you both needed was something simple.

But sometimes, something simple was enough.

He joined you on the bed, tapping on your leg that blocked his goal.

“Come on,” his words were cut and dry and quiet.

You moved your leg back down as you sat up to meet him. Him, on his knees before you with his length in his hand and you, splayed before him wet and wanting. You reached to replace his hand with yours but he shook his head, knocking his chin at your shirt with a disapproving shake.

The worn Ole Miss letters standing stark amidst the nakedness of the room. Doc.

Huffing, you were quick to lose the shirt.

“Better?” You asked him. Reaching back toward to replace his hand, he removed his and let you take him.

“Perfect,” he groaned at the feel of your hand.

He was heavy and warm in your palm; watching with an intensity that only beckoned you to go further—sliding your hand along him delicately and squeezing just enough at the base for him to emit a grunt of satisfaction. Scott’s hands caressed the sides of your thighs as his mind went blank.

“Scott,” you purred. Sitting up on your knees and never letting him go. Your other hand wrapped around his shoulders as you pressed your chest against his. His hands were hot on your hips and ass.

You lazily drew your lips along his jaw to ear.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whispered. His heart was beating so fast. “I want you to fuck me into this mattress and make me think about it for days.”

Scott’s eyes were closed. His breathing unsteady and head pushing into yours. He gripped your body tightly.

“Baby—“ the pet name slipped out before he had a chance to take it back. Too personal? He wasn’t sure. But he couldn’t think straight. With your hand on his dick, all he could think about was how fast he could get inside of you.

“I thought we said—“

“We’ll be quiet,” you reassured him. “I didn’t say hard.”

Oh. You wanted to be fucked softly. At least for the moment you did.

The kind of sex that left a heavy haze in the air. The one that drew everything out of a person and left it there, lingering, as if the pieces of them were nothing more than particles in space.

It was the sex you couldn’t turn back from.

You were too far gone.

You had been for quite some time yet never slipped up. You enjoyed what small, unreliable fling you had no matter how it grew inside of you. Scott wasn’t a man you’d dream about as a teen thinking of your future. He was a certified asshole with an ego as big as the fucking ocean but it slithered past your defenses and ended up knocking at the gate.

But you loved the sinful way it made you feel.

“Do you wanna fuck me?” You cooed. You careened in his touch, pitching upwards as he cupped your ass roughly and relished the feel of your breasts on his chest. Everything about you was so soft. So delicate and warming and familiar.

“You know I do,” he panted. You stroked him still. His eyes could have drooped but he watched you intently.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

You positioned your head in front of his, kissing him gently on the lips before lowering back down onto the bed with your knees parted. You let him go and his cock bobbed.

And he did as you asked.

When Scott fucked you, the heavens blushed from above. He took his dick in his hand, positioning himself to be in front of your pussy that was still shining with the wetness he left. He rubbed the tip up and down, gathering the wetness he could. Each motion threatening to push him in faster than either of you wanted.

This could be hours or forever and you’d never want it to end.

He stopped at your entrance to look in your wanton eyes. They begged him, they wanted him without a word. He guided his cock into you slowly. Your cunt, hot and inviting, welcomed him smoothly. Pressing your head deep into the pillows, you let out weak gasps at his intrusion.

Your head was swirling. You were full of him.

Each touch and each thrust was sending you toward a tether that was breaking string by string. A violin to be played delicately and only the musician who cared enough to learn its tuning could make it sing.

Scott was calculated but not over aware. He listened to your calls—the shallow, meek whimpers at the virility of his drives. He let you get lost; finding the stars in your eyes as he peered down at you until it became too much and Scott needed to feel you again.

Scott leaned down, taking your neck in both of your hands and kissed you deeply. Your hands glued themselves to the sides of his torso. His lips were a pillow in short breaths; tongue sloppy when his hips ground into you faster than before.

His cock was splitting you. Thrust after thrust he gained the momentum of chasing a high. He never let you go; holding onto you whether delicate on your neck or grasping at your body, Scott palmed as you grew in want.

“Come on, come on,” he gritted through his teeth as you clenched around him. You weren’t registering the sounds of the headboard hitting the wall behind you. It was only you, Scott, and the sounds of your pleasure.

He picked up the rapid movements as best he could. It was so easy to lose himself in you. He, the most rigid man in both word and action, came alive at the opportunity to simply let go. Those words were strange—to let go—but he had found it in your meetings.

Scott Miller was many things, yet fucking you unbeknownst to the world was his greatest secret in his cruelty.

He watched you wither or waver, hands shifting to hold his face close to yours. You kept muttering nonsensical deliverances with your hips jutting up to join his. It was growing fierce—your end. The orgasm eating away at your resolve. Scott’s eyes were battering down on your own, nodding his head with eager anticipation of the rush of your finish. Scott knew you to be quick. It was so easy for him to get you off because the methodology of you and him made it that way.

He could read you the alphabet and if you bore into your eyes enough, you’d be wet. He could feed you a fucking pretzel and your mind would illustrate the way you’d let him pound you into tomorrow.

He nodded, chin bumping yours as your mouths declined to collide in a spectacle. Your breaths beat at the rapid nature of your heart; panting for respite in the low light of the hotel’s table lamp and glow of the television.

“That’s it,” Scott coaxed. His silence in the efforts of his body ceasing. “Come on.” His teeth bit at his words.

“F-fuck,” you stuttered out. The wave was approaching. It tingled in your toes and laid heavy in your core. “Shit,” you gasped quietly. “Oh!”

Your mouth fell open and he took the opportunity to kiss you, tugging on your bottom lip as he pulled away and the curl of your toes became too real. You kept squeezing him, emboldening him to come with you.

Scott felt your muscles contract before it was nothing but a shake of your legs. You arched your back into him, allowing him to draw you close as he pounded into your finish to race to his own.

There was nothing in your eyes except the stars you couldn’t see. It was fuzzy, exhilarating as the pulses rushed through you in a couple, disjointed and erratic bursts. You couldn’t help but shake; it was overstimulating as Scott continued to push against your walls.

He loved to feel you shake. He loved to be the one to cause such a rapture within you. To have to uncontrollably trembling in pleasure? What a treat.

You swallowed his grunts, clinging onto his shoulders and cupping his face as he drew his arms under your back and repositioned you. He was close, so close. The beads of sweat on his forehead called him to end—a sure sign of his stamina along the sheen that covered you.

His hips snapped in and out with a fury. The softness of his earlier actions were thrown out the window. He did as he believed, fuck you into a state where you’d remember it for days.

And then his tether broke too.

Scott held your hips against him tightly. He kissed your lips as he finished inside of you before deepening it.

Suddenly you weren’t going to remember the sex.

You were going to recall the way he kissed you after he made sure you both came. How he wouldn’t let you feel anything but his lips, his tongue, his teeth, until he was soft inside of you.

Scott left your lips with a faint, nearly absent smile.

“How’s that for remembering?”

He wasn’t one for validation. He didn’t seek your approval but it slipped out of him with the words he shouldn’t say.

You ran your tongue over your lips to wet them or maybe to collect the remnants of him. “Mm,” you thought. “I might forget what it feels like to be kissed?”

Scott scoffed as you ran your fingers through his hair. He dipped his head again to kiss your shoulder, peppering kisses to your lips as he made a trail. He nuzzled his nose into the side of your face and could tell when your face broke out into a smile. Taking the chance, he tucked his forehead into the crux of your neck and shoulder. You squirmed with laughter but his hands held you steady.

“I’ll be heading to The City for a few days,” he grumbled into your neck. “We got a new truck.”

“The gang ain’t enough anymore? You’re gonna outnumber us.”

Scott shook his head and began to unravel. He lifted up from you, slipping out as the cold met wet in the air. You could not help but draw your brows together at the discomfort—Scott’s thumb rubbed soothing circles on your thigh.

He started off the bed and into the bathroom attached to help clean you up. Tossing your worn shirt back on the bed before shuffling into his briefs and pants again. You sat up in confusion.

“Aren’t you stayin’?” You asked. “I thought we’d have a few hours.”

Maybe it had been dangerous to voice hope.

To voice and acknowledge the misery of missing him when it hurt to do so.

He shook his head again and went to his phone. “I gotta get that truck before she flies in.”

She. “Who?” You questioned with concern. You weren’t exclusive, you weren’t supposed to be jealous.

“Some girl Javi invited out for a few days,” he dismissed. Scott’s eyes were glued to the phone in his hand. “She works for NWS.”

“To help you?”

“Why else?” He sounded disgruntled at the fact. But he ignored your tone too. “Said she was a friend from college.”

“What’s the NWS got to do with your work?”

“She’s just helpin’ us find the tornados, not anything else. We don’t need help in what we do.”

You weren’t oblivious to Storm Par—you’d be a fucking fool not to be. It was something you detested, despised, about him and if you thought about it too long, you felt even the slightest bit guilty of letting your thoughts wander to him when you were set on doing good.

He took from people in pain for what? His own personal gain? The money he raked in on the side of allowing a maniac of a man to fund his projects?

You knew there was a piece of him that strung you along not for sex or the fondness of it, but out of necessity to follow.

His team of storm chasers wouldn’t have the opportunities they did if they didn’t follow Tyler and the crew.

You were just collateral for the course. A “get love quick scheme” in the center of a raging cyclone of fucked up felonies and a YouTube channel of misfits.

Scott let his fingers move briskly over the keyboard of his phone.

“When is she coming?” You feigned to ponder instead.

“Monday.”

“So that means you have to leave now?”

Oh Lord Almighty. You sounded pathetic. Knees pulled up to your chest, holding the pieces of you together as you became forgotten. You felt the events of moments ago begin to unsettle your body. The need of care that hasn’t come making your skin crawl.

You may have done things that made your momma blush but you cowering under the idea that a man is gonna leave you cold after a good roll in the sheets would set her aflame.

“Have to,” he tossed his phone back on the chair and took a new shirt out from his backpack. “For business on Sunday with Riggs before we head out. We agreed to…” he went back to his phone to check the time. “A two o’clock departure time.”

It wasn’t even fucking twelve thirty but hey, he couldn’t be seen, right?

“Bullshit,” you let fall out.

“What?” Scott picked it up. His head snapped to you.

“I said it’s bullshit,” you said a bit louder for him to hear. “I don’t get it, I don’t.”

“What don’t you ‘get’?” He had a lacing of judgment in his voice. It could have been the MIT superiority in him that festered with the ever mounting praise of his colleagues.

“I just don’t know when it will be enough for all of you,” you scoffed. “You pour money down drain for machines and tech and then you stockpile tragedies we can’t even keep up with. And now you’ve got the NWS on your side? The ones who are supposed to care about keeping us safe?”

“It’s freelance,” he pointed out while tucking in his shirt. He did up the belt in a flash. “And these people don’t need what’s left for them after it’s all gone. You know how hard it is for them to rebuild.”

“But those are their homes, Scott. What if it was your home or my home or your parents?”

“I’d figure we’d all end up in different places anyway,” he tucked his phone in his back pocket.

You shook your head at him, looking away to focus on the TV. Muttering an “unbelievable” under your breath, you began to wonder the reasons why he even bothered to show up.

They drove an entire team to Perry to sleep in a run of the mill hotel or perhaps that was second to Scott getting his fill. He just needed one good fuck to send him off and running to his next paycheck.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Scott concluded dispassionately. That stone cold, humorless man replaced whoever burst through the door.

“We both have jobs to do. Just stay in your lane and I’ll be in mine.”

Oh Christ he made you fume.

“You can be a real jackass, you know that?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You aren’t tellin’ me anything I ain’t heard before, honey.”

“Oh fuck off!” You shouted a bit too loudly. He slung his cap back on his head. “You’re such a piece of shit.”

“Then why tell me you were gonna be here?” He hummed an ask, approaching the bed with intent. You looked up at him as he settled in the spot next to you with his feet on the floor and arm outstretched to hold onto the headboard.

Scott caged you in. He towered over you to be intimidating.

“Why ask me to sleep with you or stay or kiss you or whatever else just to hate me after it’s all done?”

“I didn’t ask to hate you.”

“You don’t hate me,” he clarified. “You just hate the way you feel about me.”

“You’re selfish,” you settled on.

“You’re entitled,” Scott countered. The Ole Miss logo on your shirt burned.

“You don’t care about anyone except yourself.”

And that pained you.

“You care about everyone else far too much,” he pulled his head toward you. His eyes flicked between your lips and eyes and you wanted to punch him and kiss it away.

All you wanted was to have a good night. To be worshiped in a quiet space and he gave you that, even if brief. But he also tore it away. He always took it away.

“Sometimes I don’t know why we even try.”

He was taken aback by it. You both were two people on very different ends of a string that snapped you together. It wasn’t perfect but it worked for the most part.

“Then why do we?” He shouldn’t have said it yet he did.

“You can’t even bear to stay,” you whispered. For a second, you thought you saw clarity in those cloudy eyes. “You can’t even fucking hold me after what we did… or-” the words fell deaf on your lips.

“I have to leave. I can’t stay.”

“You don’t get it do you?”

Scott breathed in deeply, declining the sentiment with a toss of his head.

“I gotta go,” he said quietly instead. He took your chin in his hand, knocking it gently to the side.

“I don’t know how you do it,” was all you could muster.

And then he left without another word.

In Boone’s mind, it did not matter if the sky was at its darkest, a joint never waited to be smoked when necessary.

He had woken about an hour before as Storm Par’s slamming of car doors rustled him from slumber. The RV wasn’t the most perfect place to reside while traversing wild weather but he loved it all the same. He rolled off the bunk without notice of Dexter who would have surely scolded him for partaking at such a late hour.

So, he snuck into the truck and lit up in the quiet solitude of night without interruption.

It wasn’t until an hour later when the drowsy feel of his tingles began to wear into sleep that he began to see things he’d question.

Boone rubbed the tired from his eyes the same time a door opened up to his right. He ducked into the front seat as though what he was doing was far from normal and spied the invasion of the public space.

Down to the right, Scott exited the room with a scowl on his face Boone could see in the dark. A backpack slung over his shoulder, he looked frustrated compared to the blasé he was used to. Scott walked past Boone without noticing and hopped into one of Storm Par’s trucks.

Boone remained ducked as he thought back to the room. Scott settled in the passenger seat before reclining it back to sleep. He disappeared from Boone’s view and the latter looked to the motel rooms again.

Even in his foggy memory, he recalled Lily sticking a crumpled piece of paper in the cup holder for Tyler to use. It had the address of the motel and the room numbers reserved. He scouted the cup holders until his fingers grasped the paper’s corner.

“34221 Sli-“ he rumbled off as he read the note. His eyes traveled down to the rooms.

Lily room nine.

Tyler room thirteen.

Dani room twenty-one.

And then his eyes widened in curiosity at your name finely written and a twenty-two carved next to it. Those same numbers were lightly illuminated by the light above the door.

“No shit,” Boone chuckled in disbelief.

The next few days were nothing but a blur.

The sky was like that too. Cloudy and gray. It seemed to reflect whatever was left inside of you to stir and gather into something larger as your memories of Scott overplayed in your mind with poor restraint.

God, how you wished it would just rain and swallow you whole.

It was absurd—feigning such disappointment over a man who was not your significant other but did everything in solitude to appear that way. He loved on you and left you cold with nothing to warm the thoughts of what it would be like when you saw him again.

And when you did, it was disappointing.

The brown haired woman they had brought on to help with was far too good to be mixed in with a crowd of degenerate Ivy pricks but she stayed with them longer than she should have. In their paths, it felt like they crossed yours even more than before.

You were stuck trying to avoid Scott’s entire being when his truck passed or when they stopped at the same station or motel or place as you and yours.

It started to eat at you, the avoidance.

On an early Tuesday morning, you felt the winds begin to change again. Tyler blew a tire the night before and broke his jack trying to fix it. The lot of you ended up in the parking lot of a rundown gas station as the sun began to rise when the white trucks came barreling down the road and straight into the parking lot.

Dani booed them from the stairs of the RV.

“Can’t your just leave us the hell alone?” Lily complained. It had been four days straight of interactions with them and it had caused nothing but trouble. You tried your best to stay normal but Boone kept sitting by you as if he wanted to hold your hand.

It peeved you to think he knew something was wrong.

“They just love us too much,” Dani joked as she waved at the group exiting their trucks. Kate, their newest addition, smiled in the distance.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Boone acknowledged from beside you.

“Hey Storm Par!” Dani shouted. “Go find your own fucking tornados!”

Beside their trucks, Javi scoffed and shook his head.

“What?” Kate inquired, her eyes curious as they had been the last week. “They’re just jokin’ I’m sure.”

“Nah,” Javi replied. “They don’t like us the same as we don’t like them. I thought you’d pick up on that now.”

“Well sure,” Kate laughed at the ridiculousness of it. “But there’s more to this than that.”

There’s more to chasing than a fight.

“Yeah well, tell that to them.”

“They’re just shitheads,” Scott piped up on his approach. “Think they’re better than the rest of us because they’ve got a camera in their face.”

“They’ve been fine to me,” Kate defended. She watched as the so-called tornado wranglers bounced up from their seats and headed in her direction. The man with the bandana tried to coax you to join but you refused physically. Hands outstretched and pushing the man away. It was a weak attempt, she noticed.

“It’s just all of you that rub them the wrong way.”

“Well it’s a two-way street.”

You go your way, and I’ll go mine.

Kate observed the carefree way in which everyone interacted with one another. The two other girls tugged on your arms to bring you to your feet against your will. She felt Scott shift on his feet beside her but didn’t dwell on it.

“They still got that reporter with ‘em,” she noted. “Must be an interesting bunch to write a story about.”

“When you put together people from seven different walks of life, you’re bound to get something good,” Javi agreed with her.

Scott shifted again and Kate looked up at him. He wore his sunglasses, therefore it was hard to see his eyes. But his face was set and jaw tight. His hands were dug into his pockets but the distaste rolled off of him in waves. She looked back into the direction of all of you.

Boone was running circles around the three girls as their arms were wrapped around each other. Friends. It reminded Kate too much of the ones she lost.

“Alright everyone,” Scott called out. “Five minutes and then we’re back on the road.”

The inside of the station was no different than any other. Five rows of food with a wall of freezers in the back, a broken counter with a tower of cigs and vapes waiting to be sold. Kate was reading the back of a SunChips bag when you all came in. The bell above the door sounding with a jingle, Dani and Lily’s laughter filled the space compared to the nonexistent chatter of Storm Par’s presence.

You held the door open for Tyler who gave a wink and a thanks that didn’t phase you as it would her. He was handsome, charming, if a little obnoxious. He smiled at Kate and a part of her felt like running, the other falling.

You didn’t have the same spunk the others did. After they left your vicinity the smile on your face dropped and the shoulders you wore were heavy. You passed Kate, giving her a small hello, before walking down the aisle. She peaked her head to the side of the stand.

“Find anything good?” Kate called out kindly. Her light Oklahoma twang cutting through.

You glanced at her. “If you count fruit flavored Doritos good, then maybe we have different tastes.”

She chuckled and took it as a sign to approach you.

You didn’t know much about Kate other than what Boone had dug up and what Scott had mentioned before she arrived. She was smart as a whip, a talented chaser, and one who made mistakes too.

“I don’t think those would be good in any situation.”

“We can agree there,” you mumbled. You picked up a small bag of Veggie Straws.

“So where are y’all chasing today?” Kate inquired.

“Why?” You countered. “So you can follow us around?”

“No,” she shook her head, feeling as though she offended you. “No… we can find our own. I was just wonderin’ if y’all wanted to go to this bar tonight.”

You furrowed your brows. Under the static lighting of the gas station mart, you were falling into confusion.

“Y’all as in… us?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. Kate was intrigued by what you did. The way you all risked so much for entertainment or maybe, for some of you, there was still an inch of science to be discovered.

The day after you all converged and she had a panic attack at the sight of the tornado, Kate spent the morning watching the videos posted from your channel. She was amazed by the thrill of what feelings Tyler and Boone could ooze out of the screen.

But she took a liking to the science you broke down for the average viewer. The way you taught amidst the chaos of wrangling tornadoes or shooting fireworks up the funnel.

“I thought we could all use a break,” she shrugged. “Javi and I have known each other for a long time and we used to stop there for line dancing on Thursdays.”

Well it just so happened to be a Thursday.

“And these fellas are more wound up than a goddamn toy,” she said under her breath. “I think a pitcher of beer and some good ol’ fashion Oklahoma hospitality would do us well.”

“Oh,” you replied softly. “Um, well… Ty makes a lot of those decisions so maybe you could ask him?”

Her eyes went bright. “Sure! I mean, I just thought I’d ask. They all talk about you a lot… I think they’re all a little jealous.”

The thought of what Scott or any of the other Storm Par guys said about you and your friends bristled you. Scott’s face met you in dreams to remind you that he was never too far away and whatever strife you had with him and his work was always going to get in the way.

“Do they?” You commented. You could hear Javi in the aisle over talking to Scott about equipment.

“Mhm.”

“How charming,” you moved down the aisle to the other products but Kate didn’t follow. She looked in your direction but behind you.

Javi and Scott were now at the end of the aisle beside you, the former shuffling behind you with a small ‘excuse me’ while the other stood there for a brief moment. You looked over your shoulder at him and his glasses were now gone, meeting your gaze for seconds too long.

“I was just inviting them to come with us,” Kate informed Javi who turned, eyeing you as your attention was distracted.

“Well I hope they can dance,” Javi said with a glee he always had.

Kate said your name which brought your attention back. You could feel Scott lingering, his stance imposing on the small aisle of snacks. You could always feel him around—a curse from caring about everyone too much. He wasn’t a small man or one who could hide in the shadows; he towered over the short shelves. He was as gigantic as a comic book hero even if he was far from one.

The invitation caught Tyler’s attention when the conversation became too loud to go unnoticed. He appeared out of thin air at the other end of the aisle by the door.

Like an old western standoff, you were caught in the center.

You wanted the bags of chips to swallow you whole. It was bad enough that you were stuck between the world you loved and the man who made it more complicated. It was bad enough that Tyler would certainly say yes to Kate’s proposal because he had been sneaking glances at her for a week.

He had shit-eating grin on his face as he walked closer to the group of you. His curious eyes monitoring the way Scott’s body was a little too close to yours.

A part of him believed they were cornering you for something about storms. He wouldn’t put it past them for their sordid work in the hellish treatment of victims but hey, who was he to assume? You clutched the bag in your hands hard enough it could pop.

“We all good over here?” Tyler questioned Scott specifically. It was the only other guy he could size up to and play out a macho-man persona. “I don’t think I need to tell y’all that my team is my team, off limits to your work.”

Scott laughed, truly laughed at Tyler. Javi and Kate’s heads whipped around to Scott who rested an arm bent on the shelves beside him. It was far too close to you and it gave you flashbacks to his nasty exit. Tyler focused on Scott in a labored calculation. He might have been the one they all liked the least.

“Did I say somethin’ funny?”

“Yeah,” Scott replied. His voice flat as always. “You did.”

Tyler looked around at Kate, Javi, and yourself who frowned.

“Care to explain what?”

Scott held back an amused smile as his eyes creased at the edges. You looked up at him with a warning. To your surprise, Scott looked back.

“No,” he responded curtly while looking at you. Off limits.

Kate sensed it. She did. There was something there—the air heavy like a storm.

“We’re gonna go to a dance bar in Enid tonight. I was just askin’ if all y’all would like to join us,” Kate pitched in to Tyler who slowly removed his gaze from Scott to her. His eyes let up softly.

“Dance bar? I don’t take any of these fellas for the dancing kind.”

“Don’t you know we’re all from here?” Javi asked him and Tyler didn’t. You did but Tyler didn’t know much about any of them except their high degrees of achievement and late-stage superior fraternity behavior.

“So you’re tellin’ me that Mr. Stick-up-his-ass here can two step like it’s his birthday?”

“Oh you ain’t never seen Scott dance,” Javi laughed loudly and gathered the rest of the wranglers to the aisle. “We can dance you into next week!”

“Alright.” Tyler nodded his head. One night wouldn’t hurt. “I’m good with it as long as it’s fine with Doc.”

Shit. They all gazed at you with bated breath. You could feel their beady eyes piercing; Scott's blistering eyes on the side of your head prompting you to try.

The last time you attempted to have a good evening it left you reeling. That was six days ago and you still replayed Scott’s words through your mind. Over and over and over and over again.

You’re entitled.

Stay in your lane.

You cared about everyone else too much.

Yet your lanes always converged. And you had the right to be entitled as the name suggested. Doc. You were overly qualified to be there and whatever flew your way, you deserved it.

And fuck, if you didn’t care about everyone else, you’d be a shell of a human. So hollow that your world would collapse. By the laws of physics, you’d stay in motion. You’d keep going even if he pulled you backwards a million times.

You looked at Tyler, tossing your bag of chips in his direction.

“I’d love to go dancin’.”

Boone screeched a happy whistle and yelled to save him a dance. Scott seethed at those words as if he had a claim otherwise. It was an agreement to keep it quiet for the sake of your jobs, your sanity. But he was covetous in his belongings and for whatever belief he had, you were his in all but name.

His actions made it difficult to fully manifest into reality. When you keep a locked door locked, you don’t deserve to enjoy it for free. It ate away at him differently than the anxiety of hurt ate at you.

He wanted to freely give himself to you–to be the man you'd see on dark nights in the solace of a bedroom or wherever you could find respite.

It was tough to be the person you thought you were. It was much easier to be a coward.

The dance bar was packed full of locals and tourists alike. You couldn’t place the pull Enid had on people who weren’t from there but it was alive the moment you walked through the door.

Boone whistled at the sight of everything.

“I gotta hand it to ‘em. They sure can pick a place.”

“Have you never been dancin’ before?” You questioned, linking your arm in the space offered by him. He gave a cheeky smile and tipped his cowboy hat with a free finger.

“Oh, don’t underestimate me, Doc. Just cause you ain’t seen these moves don’t mean I ain’t got them.”

“Maybe I’ve been blessed. If it’s the same way you hold a camera, I can’t imagine your feet.”

“Uh huh,” he egged you on. “Keep it comin’. I have a whole night to prove you wrong.”

You scrunched your nose at him. At the moment, a series of rapid clicks sounded behind you. You and Boone peaked behind you at Ben, the reporter, snapping a photo.

“Sorry,” he apologized bashfully. “I haven’t been able to capture much of you.” He spoke to you, not Boone. “I want to feature more than just the storms.”

“Well you’re gonna get a whole lot more than storms tonight, Ben!” Boone cheered as Dani joined him on his other side.

You got the sudden sense of deja vu to your college days. Those undergraduate nights where your friends would drag you to the bar and everything was far too loud and over exciting. It was beer and booze and feet that fumbled. There was nothing over exhilarating about going out on a weekday but now, past those prime days, you felt a simmer of that feeling come alive inside of you.

Against your better judgment, the idea that Scott and you were crossing paths in a public setting beyond your professions was exciting. It sent thrills down you when it shouldn’t.

He had done nothing to remedy what he said—nor you for that matter. You kept your distance by sitting in the truck while stopping or sleeping in the RV with Dexter and Boone instead of a motel. Every time in the last week that your lines had met, you kept them parallel.

Tonight would be the hardest to not intersect.

“Can I buy you all a round?” Ben offered kindly. His mannerisms were foreign in the West. “For an exciting week, I suppose.”

“Who are we to say no, Ben?” Tyler slung an arm around his shoulder. Dexter and Lily flanked him at his sides.

Your group settled at a table in the back of the bar by the darts and pool table. Dexter challenged Dani to a rematch of a game they had settled a couple of weeks ago, and the rest of you nursed or chugged the beer that Ben had bought. You were the former. Sticking your attention on the foam at the top as it slowly made its way down the glass to become nonexistent.

“So,” Boone cleared his throat beside you as Dani, Tyler, and Ben looked over the photos the journalist had taken thus far.

“Is there a reason your attitude has been shit lately?”

You peered into the glass. Fingers tapping the sides of it.

“I was editing the last video and if anyone wanted a tornado to actually kill them, viewers might be convinced it’d be you.”

“Oh come on,” you scoffed. “I am sure my bad day didn’t ruin the video.”

“I didn’t say ruin, only tainted it. But what’s goin’ on?” He pointed and probed at your temple invasively. “The wheels are turning. I can hear them.”

“It’s nothin’, Boone. Just… girl stuff.”

“My favorite!” He bellowed like a King. Dani transitioned from her conversation to yours.

“What’s your favorite?”

“Girl stuff,” he mimicked. “Just askin’ about little miss sad is all.”

Dani nodded, taking a sip of her beer.

“Is it about your tinder date?”

“My what?” You showed deep confusion. “What date?”

“Last week,” she said casually. “I could hear your headboard against my wall. Jesus,” Dani laughed. “I didn’t know you had it in you Doc.”

Ben and Tyler’s conversation ended and they eavesdropped from the end of the table. At the other end of the bar, Storm Par, in casual clothing, entered.

You blanched at her words. You didn’t even realize.

“Oh-ho!” She pounded a fist on the table. “It was a tinder guy! Ha!”

Boone went suspiciously quiet beside you as she kept on.

“I didn’t want to say anything then but it makes sense. You’ve been on edge ever since. Maybe you should call him—“

“No,” you shook your head at her. Your hands left the glass and settled in your lap.

“He wasn’t good? Oh—“

“No!” You defended too fast and awkwardly. Boone glanced at Tyler who became far too interested in his co-pilot’s silence.

Dani lowered her voice with concern. “Was it too, you know, rough? Did he hurt you?”

“Oh my God!” You exclaimed at the invasion of privacy. “Can you not?”

“Sorry!” She held up her hands. “I didn’t hear anything else if that’s what you’re worried about. I don’t want to know your kinks.”

“Oh fuck me,” you wailed. “Dani, can you please stop?”

“Ok, ok!” She backed off and sat in her seat. “I’m just trying to help!”

“I know,” you breathed in. Tyler took a large sip of his beer before putting it back on down the table.

“We know him?” He questioned, eying Boone move uncomfortably in his seat. You looked at him and gaped for a millisecond before shaking your head.

“No. No, I don’t think so.”

Boone glanced at Tyler again and he knew you lied. He didn’t think it was Boone—that would be a nonstarter because you weren’t his type. It wasn’t Dexter because he was married and Ben was not interested in women.

He knew you didn’t swing for Dani or Lily so it was someone else. Dani already deduced it was a man so any other woman was out of the question.

“Well maybe you just need to find someone else to take your mind off of it?” Dani suggested.

“Yeah. Maybe.” You bit at the inside of your cheek.

“A lot of fuss over a one night stand,” Tyler put an arm over the back on Ben’s seat. “Must’ve been somethin’ if you’re down and out about it.”

You downed the beer before you in a flash.

“Must’ve,” Dani agreed with a hum.

“Anyone want another?” You asked, shifting out of your seat. The heels of your boots clacked onto the floor with a bounce.

Everyone shook their heads no and let you leave the table.

The music was pumping through the speakers loudly and the bar was full. You spotted Kate with a couple of the Storm Par guys doing a shot—all of them looking like regular Joe’s in their tees and flannels. Not far from the edge of the bar Scott and Javi waited for pitchers to be filled.

It was rare you saw him out of his “uniform.” Clad in a dark blue tee and his own flannel, the only thing that separated him from the rest was the way he looked. When he tried, Scott was movie-star handsome. The kind of person that’d be having girls write their numbers on his hand at the end of the night.

His presence was unfair to the other men around—except for Tyler on the occasion. It was a shame he was an asshole.

Instead of going toward Scott and Javi as you might have a week ago, you took an empty spot beside Kate who cheerfully greeted you. She waved down the bartender, asking for another shot and to refill your glass.

Tyler watched you walk away. He couldn’t see the decision making in your eyes or hear the thoughts in your mind, yet he had his own to make assumptions.

“Boone,” he called to his friend who sat quietly. Tyler watched you stand next to Kate and Ben’s gaze followed.

“Yeah?”

“Why you bein’ so quiet?”

“I’m n-not,” he tripped over his words. “I’m not.”

“You sure we don’t know him?”

Tyler clocked each of the Storm Par men. None of them looked immediately taken by you standing there, itching to get their hands on you, but then he let himself wander to the end of the bar.

And he locked in.

“I don’t know him,” Boone choked a laugh. “How would I know? She’d tell Dani before me.”

“I didn’t say she told you.”

“Well I’m just implying.”

Tyler turned to Ben who was trying to copy Tyler’s movements.

“Ben,” Tyler tipped his head toward you. “Tell me what you see.”

Ben cleared his throat like he was being interrogated. “Well they just got a second round of shots and the bartender said it’s on the house. She must recognize us.”

“Ok,” Tyler pointed. “And down there? What can we conclude, Mr. London.”

“Oh, well… it seems not everyone is out for a good time.” It was Scott’s frown that told him that.

“You sure?” Tyler watched as Dani blanked. Her eyes suddenly went wide and worrisome at the thought.

“No!” She objected. “No fucking way. Not on my watch, Tyler. Nope!”

“What?” Ben asked frantically. “What’s wrong?”

“Tyler thinks it’s one of them,” Dani pointed to Javi and Scott.

“It is one of them,” as though there were options. “It’s the fucking stick in the mud.”

Dani scowled and physically rejected the idea. Ben watched what Tyler did as Scott, the taller of the two men and the one facing your direction at the bar, couldn’t keep his eyes off you as you laughed at whatever Kate said.

You started to leave and he averted his gaze until your back was to him. You didn’t even look at him when you passed him and Javi.

“Shit,” Dani muttered as you got closer. Boone closed his eyes with a sigh before nodding at the rest of the table.

“It is him,” he admitted and Dani slapped a hand on her face. “I saw him.”

“You saw them?”

“No, him. Leaving her motel room last week.”

“Oh Lord,” Dani nearly wailed. “She’s been sad over him?”

“He is quite attractive,” Ben defended. Dani slapped his arm harshly.

“Dammit don’t say that!”

Tyler sat in contemplation. He had been your friend for years now and knew when things got rough, it could be difficult to overcome them. Everyone had gone through countless breakups and one night stands and situationships that didn’t work out and after a bit, you’d be ok.

Yet he knew it was different somehow.

Even though he despised Storm Par and had nothing but horrible interactions with Scott, there must have been something there for you to cling on to.

And anger had a distant cousin: jealousy.

When you came back to the table, everyone was quiet and observing.

“What?” You questioned each of them.

“Nothin’” Dani said quickly.

“Oh really?”

“Do you wanna dance?” Tyler asked you abruptly. You could see on his face that there was another thought lingering below the surface.

“Right now?”

“Yeah,” he hopped off his stool and motioned toward the group of people dancing to the rhythm of the music. Most were couples, a few scatterings of friend groups around.

Tyler held out his hand to you.

“Don’t tell me a PhD can’t dance, Doc.”

You rolled your eyes, taking his hand in yours. It wasn’t Scott’s, but it would do for now.

“Of course I can, hillbilly. I just do it a bit more sophisticated than you.”

Dani and Boone howled in laughter as you let Tyler take you to the dance floor, spinning you around twice before settling to the score. You danced sweetly with one another as the others looked on from their seats.

Tyler Owens always looked proud to be in the company of his friends. Each plucked from their own little obscure corner of the world: a YouTube daredevil, an amateur late-age scientist, an ex-pr firm reject, a tech fair winner, and you—the science bros internet girlfriend who was a professor of physics.

He adored each of you in a special way that made everyday worth living.

It hurt him that you couldn’t be honest about an action so natural. If Scott had been a one time thing or a many time thing, he would learn to accept it if it meant you would be happy.

He’d want the same in return should a situation arise.

“You know,” he cleared his throat as the song sped up in tempo but came back down. “We don’t really keep secrets from each other here.”

You sighed, looking away from Tyler. Everyone was at peace on the floor before the real dancing began and you tried not to peak at the table as Storm Par settled at the table beside your friends.

“I’m not keeping secrets. I’m not revealing information.”

“Ah!” Tyler chuckled. “Ok, fine… but if I said that even if you didn’t tell us and kept whatever you have with whoever it is going, that we would all be ok with it, that wouldn’t matter?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said frankly. “I think—“

“That he’s staring at us right now.”

Tyler met your eyes with purity. There was no cruelty or hatred in them for you to think he was being a jerk about it.

You opened your mouth to speak but he denied you the chance.

“There’s a lot of things I could say about it, Doc. A lot. You could’ve picked a nicer dude, not a leech to our operations, someone who cares about people…” he trailed off when he saw your demeanor fall far from his jokes.

“Boone saw him,” he clarified. “He put the pieces together but didn’t want to say anything. Not his place, I guess.”

“No,” you said in soft resignation.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“How long?”

“Not long after we met them,” you confessed. About a year ago. Tyler whistled, his hand inched a bit lower on your back but it was still respectful, you didn’t mind.

“And something he did, said, isn’t sitting right?”

“Yeah… it’s not.”

“Do you want my advice?”

You stayed silent as he continued on. He let the music play out as you swayed. Javi and Kate joined on the floor and their giggles were noticeable from the short distance between you.

“Guys like him… they’re complicated. And I get it if you don’t want to hear it but I’ve been around guys like him my whole life. They can be selfish and unnerving and stupid. It’s like they’re trying to prove to the world that they’re fit to be in it.”

You couldn’t disagree.

“When they find a place that accepts them, they’ll rise to the top of it and not know what it’s like to be at the bottom anymore. They forget about people like us.”

“I think I changed my mind—“ you started to pull away but he tugged you back.

“I’m not telling you to let him go. He just hasn’t been put in a place of uncertainty in a long, long time.”

“He said I was entitled.”

“He’s a prick and I will beat his ass if you want me to.”

You smiled. “No. It’s ok.”

“I will do it, don’t underestimate me,” he smirked. “And by the way he watches you, that uncertainty is you.”

“What do you mean by it?”

“I think you might scare him a little, Doc.”

You did.

Scott’s heart rate rose significantly from the time he entered the bar, saw you, and had to watch you dance with Tyler. Those same words that replayed in your mind the last week surfaced as soon as he sat in the truck and the door was shut.

He was an ass. It was a part of him that he couldn’t escape from no matter how hard he tried. His memories delicately held onto the hours you shared where he felt he could be someone else.

Tyler kept glancing in the direction in which Scott sat as though to rub salt in the wound.

“Can we try not to frown today?” Kate saddled up in the seat beside him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile.”

“Normal people don’t walk around grinning.”

“No,” she kicked her feet. “But they do allow themselves to have fun.”

“I am.”

She blew raspberries as Javi poured the beer into their glasses. “You are a tough nut.”

“Never not one,” Javi agreed. “Just loosen up, man. The world is bigger than what we do.”

Scott breathed in a frustrated sigh. “I’m fine,” he pressed.

“Not since I’ve met you,” Kate suggested. She looked out into the sea of people. “Maybe we can just all take it easy tonight. Drink some beer, dance, and then find you someone to take home.”

Scott’s voice was muffled by the beer he drank but he shook off her suggestion. He didn’t even really know this girl who appeared to be a phenom of weather patterns. All she had done this week was disrupt their workings and fall on his irritation scale.

“I like the sound of that!” Javi encouraged. “When’s the last time you been laid, huh? 2015?”

Scott didn’t entertain it. He looked out onto the dance floor and saw you swaying with Tyler—a mix of concern and thankfulness levied on your face.

“Ok, ok… blink once if before or twice if after,” Javi continued at Kate’s amusement. “I’m serious, man. We’re gonna hook you up, alright? Kate’s got a six sense for pickin’ the right ones.”

Javi took his turn but the song changed to a favorite of Kate’s and his eyes lit up at the same time hers did. Call it a sign from the heavens, but Scott had been saved from the humiliation of his friend.

Kate dragged Javi to the floor not far from you and Tyler and it gave him protection to keep looking.

Tyler spun you close to Javi and Kate.

“We all have to face our fears,” Tyler told you. “If we don’t, they’re gonna prevent us from what we need in our lives.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that a book deal might be in your future? Words of Wisdom by everyone’s favorite tornado wrangler.” You emphasized with the sparkle of your fingers.

“That ain’t a half bad idea.”

“I’m full of great ideas.”

“Then start thinkin’ of one to remedy this. I love ya, I do. But if you let his shell break you, it will be a hell of a lot harder to handle the road.”

“Thank you, Tyler,” you said earnestly. “I wasn’t sure what any of you would say about it.”

“Well,” he racked his brain for the thought. “You remember that girl Dani was seein’ from Kansas? She might not have been the most perfect but she was perfect for Dani when she needed her. And maybe that’s Scott for you.”

The sound ended abruptly and the speakers let out a deafening tone. A bartender came onto the surround sound to kick off the line dancing that only Tyler could hype up more. Kate and Javi found themselves beside you both and everyone that could fit on the wooden floor ascended.

Tyler clapped his hands together as he stationed himself near the first line. You weren’t too confident in yourself even if you had been doing this since you could walk, so you settled in the spot behind him. Kate was jovial to stand next to Tyler. Her eyes twinkled and you thought back on his words.

Perfect for what was needed.

“OoO, my man!” Javi clapped Scott’s back in surprise as he joined on the floor.

Dani, Boone, and Lily ran to stand next to you, so Javi and Scott took the positions behind you. Dexter cheered everyone on from the table with Ben. The latter took his camera out with his finger on the shutter.

“Don’t step on our shoes now, you hear me?” Lily screeched over her shoulder to Javi and Scott. Feeling emboldened by the two glasses of beer he downed in a record time, Scott ran a hand through his hair.

“Don’t worry about it!” He shouted back.

“Ok Mr. MIT, come to show us how it’s done!” Lily drawled. She tugged on your arm—having missed the conversation prior. Dani’s smile dropped off her face fast.

“I say we place a bet!” She yelled over the music that was getting so loud. Your ears rung as the lights began to spin in different colors. Javi heard the bet and drew closer to Lily.

She pulled your arm with her, sticking you beside Scott. He put his hands on his hips and his elbow knocked your other arm.

“Twenty that he’ll fall on his face,” she suggested.

Javi looked at Scott and contemplated the idea. Scott was distracted by you standing there. He just stared, like a fish out of water in a town not far from one he visited as a kid.

You made him feel like a fish out of water.

“Deal!” You heard Javi agree and before Lily could shake his hand in a deal, you piped up.

“I bet with Javi!” She peeped at you surprised. “Forty says he can!”

Scott never had someone put trust in him like that. It was a damn good thing his mother taught him more than just math and science.

“Ok!” She yelled back, shaking both Javi and your hand.

Before you turned to take your spot as the music started, you took Scott in.

“Don’t disappoint me!” You shouted.

After the last few days, he couldn’t will himself to.

He shook his head, letting a smile grow to his eyes. Dani had never seen it before.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby!”

And Scott danced his fucking ass off.

You weren’t sure where it ended or began, but you could feel it coming in your bones.

Not the sounds of laughter in a confined space or the blaring of music—the rapid, unpredictable nature of dedication a person could not admit. It was a funnel cloud below the truck; a spiraling tire on the side of the road blasting its radius toward you.

The cool air at night hit your body like a bucket of water. The squealing of the door to the bar rattled at the force you used to push but it didn’t slam closed as you expected.

Two minutes ago, you were breathing heavily on the dance floor. The stomping rhythm of boots on wood turning your mind blank with every kick and turn. You had found the peace within the steps and let it drive you to a foundation.

Scott had gladly proved them all wrong—enjoying the surprised excitement that emitted from both his and your own team at the way he was able to, standing above six feet, move the way he did. He caught your smile more than once, a resurgence of hope filled him.

At the break of the song, you hung onto Lily’s arm, pointing to the door.

“I need some air,” you nearly heaved.

So you went for the door and he debated on whether to follow but in the business you took up, there was always the possibility of never having another moment.

And if he didn’t strike his fear now, he’d never do it.

“Hey,” he called out to you as the music started up again but you were too far gone. Already halfway to the door by the time he had made a decision. He tried calling out to you again, except his track was cut off by a sweaty Boone.

“Ex-“

“Don’t fucking hurt her,” Boone panted. His eyes pleaded for his friend, for you. “Don’t do it. Please.”

“I’m not—“

“You say you’re not but I’m sure you’ve said it before. But think about it, dude…” Boone got up in Scott’s personal space. “If a tornado hit this building right now and you were the only one left, would you be ok with how this ends?”

Scott saw the earnest plea in Boone’s call. He placed a hard, firm hand on Boone’s shoulder.

“I appreciate it, man.”

It was the first time Scott was decent to him.

Scott left him standing there near the entrance as he caught the door before it slammed closed. Outside, you stood in a cool down position in the orange-yellow glow of the parking lot.

His heart was beating out of his chest. It hadn’t felt that way in a week.

He wasn’t sure if you knew he had followed you. You didn’t turn around and didn’t acknowledge him as the silence overtook. Crickets strung their chords and cars whirled by on the road.

Scott leaned against the brick building under the neon lights with a knee bent.

“Do I scare you?”

You broke the silence after minutes had passed. You kept your back to him but he looked up, folding his arms across his broad chest.

If you turned around, you feared you wouldn’t be able to keep it together.

“Don’t lie to me,” you tried not to sound like a beggar. “Do I scare you?”

“Yeah,” he stated frankly. “Yeah you do.”

“Why?”

You could hear him breathe out. You imagined him looking around for an answer.

“There’s a million reasons why.”

“You can’t name one?” You took the chance to glance at him. His face was half illuminated by a moody blue glow of the neon sign.

“I can name plenty,” he reassured. “I just don’t know what’s too personal to say.”

“There’s no such thing.”

“Fine,” his fingers tapped on his bicep. “You scare me because this game we play doesn’t always feel like a game to me.”

The sex. The getting together in the middle of the night to whisper sweet nothings and cherish a deep connection to feel like it’s nothing the next day.

“You scare me because you’re smart and know what you’re doing when we’re just getting our heads straight.”

Your head tilted to the side at his honesty.

“You scare me because I feel something that maybe I shouldn’t. Because by some stupid chance I can’t have you, someone else will and I can’t imagine seeing them with you.”

Your chest tightened.

“I’m selfish to think that way,” he nodded. “You’re right about that.”

“I was talking about your work,” you confessed. “I think what you do is selfish.”

He didn’t say anything to that because he knew it was also true. Everything he sold to people was a fat lie to make money for a man who already had enough.

“You care about people too much,” he repeated. “And I don’t have enough people to put the care that I have into them.”

“You’re an asshole,” you told him and he nodded again.

“I’d have to agree.”

“You made me feel like shit.”

“I can’t take it back.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “For what I said and didn’t do. I was an asshole and you didn’t deserve it.”

His moody blues were turning the sky sad. A raindrop hit the ground between you.

“I don’t think I deserve your forgiveness,” he continued. “I’ve never been nice to your friends, or you, when we’re on the road. I dislike the way Tyler danced with you—made me want to knock his fucking teeth out but I figured you’d hate me more if I did.”

“He did that on purpose, you know.”

He shook his head, looking off into the grassland beyond the bar. You felt like you were being laid onto an altar for a choice. One that seemed easy but was hard, and one that was hard but the devil claimed it was easy.

“Figures,” he mumbled. “But I deserved it.”

“We’d have to agree there too.”

He looked up at you again. Arms still crossed, he undid them and extended a hand to you as an offering. Scott was not shocked by the hesitation in your steps.

“I think you have a lot of work to do, Scott.”

“I do.”

“And I don’t want to think this is all grandstanding to get into my bed.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m not one to give second chances,” you told him and he dropped his hand in his lap. “But I don’t think what we were doing constitutes as a first chance either.”

You walked toward him at your own volition. The gravel harsh under your heels, you settled with your toes at his. And you fiddled with the edges of the opening to his flannel no different than the collar in the diner.

“This is the only chance I’ll give you.”

Another raindrop fell.

“I don’t intend on wasting it.” Scott’s eyes flicked between your lips and eyes.

In the laws of physics, there is one to triumph above the rest.

The gravitational law states that if a particle exists, it will attract others to them unwillingly—it is simply the natural state of existence.

The pull is magnetic; impossible to pass by the will of your mind, body, or soul. It tugged at the heartstrings roughly. A bridge that connected people from everywhere to be in one singular place at the right time.

Scott’s gravitational pull was too powerful to withstand. It pulled every bit of you into him without remorse—it was blue, red, and the colors of the world within to bloom into spectacles you’d only see when your eyes were closed.

Scott’s hands found purchase on your waist, drawing you into his pull. One of your hands remained on his chest. His erratic heart beat no differently than your own and the other hand grasped his forearm.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in the night. “I’m sorry.”

You rested your forehead on his. “I know.”

The strength of his pull was strong. Yet it was not strong enough for you to pull your head back.

“Don’t prove I’m right,” you wanted him. He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Can I be selfish one more time?” He inquired with a gleam in his eyes. Scott ran his tongue over his lips expectantly.

“Oh,” you feigned innocence. “Well, I don’t know if that would—“

He cut you off as he brought his lips to yours, kissing you sweetly. His lips were warm and smelt of a faint cheap beer. Another raindrop fell and this time it hit your face. You ignored it.

You gripped onto his shirt with a fist as he deepened the kiss. Taking one of his hands from you, he cupped the side of your neck to position you as he pleased.

It started to rain in Enid.

In the rain, the laws of physics didn’t defy themselves. The rain soaked into your clothes and into his dark locks to drip onto his face more so than yours. The blue of the neon sign growing hot instead of cold.

You broke away from him, tracing the lines of his face.

“Don’t prove I’m right,” you repeated.

And he didn’t.