#twisters 2

The air inside Scott's beat-up Ford Ranger tasted like stale coffee and impending thunderstorms, thick enough to choke on. Outside, Logan Airport’s terminal lights bled neon streaks across the windshield as rain began to needle the glass. Scott drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, humming some half-remembered country tune—something about highways and heartache—like he hadn’t noticed the silence between them had teeth. 

You watched his profile, the way his jaw tightened when he shifted gears, the faded scar above his eyebrow from that time he’d tried to jump his bike over Tanner’s Creek back in Oklahoma. The years of shared textbooks under oak trees, of his hand finding yours in crowded hallways, of following him here to Massachusetts because MIT was his holy grail. You’d memorized the constellations of freckles on his shoulders, the exact pitch of his laugh when he was tired. 

The terminal doors slid open with a hiss, swallowing you into the chaotic hum of people wandering. Scott gripped your suitcase handle tighter, knuckles white against the worn leather. His other hand held yours like he was anchoring a kite in a storm. "You packed extra batteries for your camera, right?" he asked, voice straining over the announcement blaring overhead. "New York winters kill electronics." Your fingers loosen around his. 

He knew. He always knew these practical things – the tensile strength of storm shelter doors, the optimal angle for hail photography, the exact wattage needed to keep your vintage Nikon alive.

“Scott,” You sigh, turning to him, hand dropping from his as you look up at him. 

Scott glanced over at you, taking in the frustration etched into your features. His grip loosened on your suitcase, and he ran a hand through his hair, the tension seeping from him in waves. "I'm just making sure," he said gruffly, avoiding your gaze. "Can't have your camera shorting out right when you hit Times Square."

"We need to talk, not about cameras or new adventures..." You chew on your bottom lip, eyes wide and beginning to tear up. 

Scott's shoulders slumped, his expression a mix of wariness and resignation. He knew this was coming – the conversation you'd both been avoiding for weeks. Taking a few steps away from the hustle of the airport, he leaned heavily against an empty airline counter.

"Yeah. I know," he said quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets. He finally met your gaze, his eyes darker in the fluorescent lighting. "So talk."

"I love you, you know I do..." You reach for his arms, craving his touch one last time. 

Scott hesitated for a moment before he finally allowed you to touch him. The roughness of his flannel shirt against your fingers, the familiar warmth of his skin, it took everything in him not to wrap himself around you and never let go. He let out a small scoff. "But…?"

"But we can't keep doing this..." You sigh, breathing speeding up as your heart clenches in your chest. "We've been fighting and making up non stop for months again. Going to New York isn't just to be with my friends, Scott, it's because I need a new start." 

Scott's grip tightened reflexively, his jaw clenched as he fought to keep his expression neutral. He'd seen this coming, felt it in the tension that had been building between you like a thunderhead. But hearing the words out loud still hit him like a punch to the gut. He swallowed hard, his voice low when he finally spoke.

"Is that what you really want, sweetheart? After everything we've been through?"

"I love you," You whisper, mind reeling as you try to process what to say, you've been thinking about this for months. It's been a long time coming. 

"Then *why*?" Scott snapped, the word cracking like a live wire. He caught himself, forcing his grip to loosen—just a fraction. His voice dropped, rough at the edges. "We fight? Yeah. So what? That doesn’t mean we quit." He looked away, jaw ticking. "You don’t get to love me and leave me in the same breath."

"It's more complicated than that! I don’t have the fight left in me anymore." You squeeze your eyes shut, pulling away from him. "I just, I can't spend the rest of my life waiting to be the most important thing to you. I can't keep telling you the same things over and over with no change. I love you, I love you so much it hurts, but I'm young, *you're* young. I don't want to waste my youth with a man who is too focused on everything but building a future with me." 

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Scott shot back, anger flaring in his eyes. He took a step closer, towering over you like a storm about to break. "You think I don't want a future with you? I'm busting my ass in school, working night shifts at the diner, all to give us a chance." He shook his head, scoffing. 

"Scott." You hold back your tears, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose. "All of that is for *you* and *your* dreams. I moved with you so you could go to MIT, I moved to a new state where I knew no one just to be with you and when we lay in bed at the end of every day? I've never felt more alone in my damn life."

"You think this is easy for me?" Scott's voice cracked, low and raw. He turned away, running a hand through his hair like he could tear the frustration out by the roots. "I'm not... I don't *know* how to do this! You want me to be soft? Poetic? Bring you flowers and say the right damn thing every time?"  

He faced you again, eyes blazing—not with anger now, but something worse. Fear.  

"I build things. I fix problems. But you... you're not a problem I can solve with equations or duct tape." His voice dropped to a whisper. "And yeah—maybe I’ve been chasing my own damn shadow this whole time and forgot to look back at you."  

A beat passed, thick with everything unsaid.

"...Doesn’t mean I don’t love you too."

"I know," You reach up, hands cupping his cheeks, brushing over his skin. "I know that you love me but I think this is for the best... I don't think we can work this out anymore, we can’t keep fighting.."

Scott's expression shattered like glass, his defenses crumbling faster than he could build them up again. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, his hands coming up to cover yours. The fight had washed out of him, leaving nothing but weary acceptance etched across his features.

"Guess you've made up your mind, then." It wasn't a question.  He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering shut just for a moment as the reality of it all crashed over him like a tidal wave.

Standing on your tippy toes, you press a soft kiss to his forehead. 

Scott's eyes closed at the brush of your lips against his forehead, a shudder running through him like an electrical current. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, his grip tight and desperate. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent he'd learned to recognize in the middle of a crowd. 

"Promise me something," he murmured against your skin. "Just one thing."

"What is it?" Your hands cradle the back of his head, the love you share still so obvious and entirely consuming. 

"I could never forget you," Taking a step back, your eyes lock one last time as you lean forward, lips meeting his gently.

You pulled back slowly, your fingers trailing down his skin until they slipped from his grasp. Scott stood frozen, eyes wide and wounded, watching you turn away. Your shoulders squared against the weight of his gaze, the airport's fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows on your face. 

"Goodbye, Scott," you whispered, the words barely audible over the terminal's roar. You didn't look back. Not when your footsteps echoed on the polished floor, not when the sliding doors hissed shut behind you, severing the last thread. Ahead, the gate beckoned—a threshold to a world where storms didn’t bear his name.

———————————————————

The Greyhound bus shuddered to a stop on Main Street, kicking up Oklahoma dust that settled like old regrets on your skin. Outside the window, the familiar squat buildings of Elkwood seemed smaller, bleached by years away—or maybe just by the fluorescent glare of the laundromat sign where Mom used to drag you every Sunday. 

The marketing degree you worked so hard for was a folded piece of paper in your bag, as useful here as a snow shovel in July. Waitressing gigs in Boston, then Cleveland, then St. Louis—each city blurring into the next until the savings ran dry and pride cracked. Back to the clapboard house on Sycamore Street, back to your old room smelling of mothballs and teenage desperation. Your parents’ hopeful smiles at the door felt like salt in a wound you thought had scarred over.

Failure tasted like cheap grease and bus station coffee. You’d packed dreams in that suitcase once—New York galleries, cityscapes framed through your Nikon lens. Now it held resignation, and a one-way ticket back to your childhood bedroom.

You’d spent the first two weeks back home, buried under your covers. The room felt like a museum of what-could-have-been. 

Sunlight bled through the blinds, stripping faded concert tickets pinned to corkboard and the dried corsage from junior prom—brittle petals crumbling at the edges. Scott’s MIT hoodie still hung on the back of your desk chair, smelling faintly of engine grease and that cheap pine-scented soap he used. 

You’d burrow under the quilt, listening to the muffled sounds of your parents moving through the house downstairs, their careful whispers a stark contrast to the silent scream of all these relics. 

Every stuffed animal on the shelf, every candid Polaroid taped to the mirror—you caught in a diner booth, laughing with ketchup on your chin; Scott grinning under his graduation cap—felt like a shard of glass pressed against raw skin. 

The past wasn’t just present; it was suffocating.

“My love,” Your mom knocks on the door, the sound ricocheting around the silent walls. “I’m coming in!” You just groan, cuddling deeper into your sheets. 

“Your Pa and I found this cushy job, you know how you used to go chasin’ tornados?” Her hand rubs your shoulder from under the thick floral fabric. 

“Yeah Ma, I remember.” Your mother's voice faded into the static hum of memory—Scott's laughter echoing through the Ranger's cab as hail pounded the roof, his hand warm over yours on the gearshift while lightning split the Kansas sky. Those summers felt infinite, the open road promising everything. 

Now, five years later, the only storm was the quiet one inside your chest—a hollowed-out ache where adventure used to live. You traced a crack in the bedroom ceiling, wondering when the world shrank to these four walls and the ghost of him that lingered in every dusty corner.

“Well anyway, it’s a marketing position!” Her words finally register and shake you out of your trance. The covers fall around you as you shoot up, eyes bright and hopeful. The application was a blur of keystrokes fueled by desperation and your mother’s unwavering optimism. Days bled into anxious silence, broken only by the chirp of your phone. "You start Monday," the clipped voice on the other end declared. "Be at the National Weather Service office in Norman by eight. Ask for Javier Rivera."

Monday dawned brittle and bright. The sleek, modern NWS building felt alien after Elkwood’s dusty storefronts. Inside, fluorescent lights hummed over bustling meteorologists tracking swirling masses of green and red on massive screens. You clutched your worn portfolio, nerves tightening your throat.

Javi hummed a tune to himself as he sorted through a stack of documents in his office, his attention flickering to the door frame when he saw you approaching through his open doorway. His eyes, sharp and intelligent, swept your figure, taking in your nervous demeanor and the portfolio clutched in your hands.

"You must be the newbie," he remarked, setting the documents aside and gesturing for you to take a seat across from him.

'Uh, yeah! I'm Y/N," You grin awkwardly, shifting your weight slightly as you sit. "The marketing hire..." 

"Y/N." Javi repeats, voice low like he's testing the shape of your name. His pen taps once against the desk—sharp, precise. Then he leans back, eyes narrowing just slightly. "So you're the one Maureen from Elkwood swore would 'breathe new life into storm outreach.'"  

Javi’s gaze didn’t soften as he slid a laminated map across the desk. "Forget cubicles," he said, tapping Oklahoma with the tip of his pen. "You’re embedded with the chase team starting next Tuesday. Mainly riding with me and my partner." He paused, watching your reaction. "Pack light. And waterproof."

The week dissolved into a frantic blur of dust motes dancing in afternoon light and the scent of cardboard boxes pulled from the garage rafters. You attacked your childhood bedroom with a grim determination, peeling faded band posters from the walls, their corners brittle with age. 

Each drawer in the dresser yielded ghosts: ticket stubs from concerts you had dragged Scott to, a dried corsage from prom, a stack of letters tied with fraying ribbon. Scott's hoodie, the faded concert tickets, the brittle corsage – each relic was handled with a trembling ache before being carefully folded or tucked away into a sturdy cardboard box labeled "College & Boston" in your mother's looping script. 

You couldn't throw them out, not yet. They were chapters, painful but yours. Downstairs, the comforting rhythm of your parents' routines became an anchor – shared meals filled with Dad's farm reports and Mom's gentle prodding about the "act of God" lawsuits.

Midweek, Mom whisked you into Elkwood's singular department store. "You can't chase storms in Boston threads, honey!" she declared, steering you towards racks of sturdy cargo pants and moisture-wicking shirts. She insisted on practicality: "Dark colors, Y/N! Dust won't show as much." You emerged laden with bags holding khakis, thick-soled hiking boots that felt alien after city flats, thermal layers, and a surprisingly sleek, waterproof windbreaker. 

Evenings were spent at the worn kitchen table, your father recounting tales of chasing supercells back in the 80s, his eyes alight with remembered adrenaline, while your mother piled your plate high with comforting casseroles, her quiet pride in your new venture a warm counterpoint to the ghosts you’d boxed away. The days bled together, filled with the mundane rituals of packing toiletries, charging camera batteries, and trying to quiet the nervous flutter in your stomach about the storm-lashed unknown awaiting you Tuesday morning.

Tuesday morning arrived with a brittle Oklahoma dawn. You pulled on faded jeans shorts and a thin striped shirt, tugging a worn NYU baseball cap low over tired eyes. The NWS parking lot was already buzzing when Javi’s battered chase van rumbled to a stop beside you. He slid the side door open with a grunt, effortlessly hoisting your gear bag inside beside stacks of radar equipment. 

“Hop in, rookie,” he said, nodding toward the passenger seat. “My partner’s meeting us at the first gas stop—guy’s got a sixth sense for coffee and convergence zones.” The van smelled of stale rain and ozone as you buckled in, the engine’s growl vibrating deep in your bones.

The van shuddered along the highway, the desolate landscape of Oklahoma blurring past the windows like a sepia-toned dream. Javi remained mostly silent, his expression fixed on the road as he tapped two fingers against the faded steering wheel in time with whatever tune hummed through his head. You tried to steal glances at him, to gauge his thoughts, but his gaze stayed locked on the ribbon of tarmac unfurling before you.

At the first gas station, a sleek white Humvee was parked next to the pumps, its tinted windows mirroring the overcast sky. A familiar silhouette leaned against the hood.

You suddenly feel a chill in your bones as the van comes to a stop, Javi gives you a gentle smile. “Let’s get to introductions!” You nod even though the dread is already coursing through your veins. It was Scott, because, of course it was. 

“Hey team, this is our marketing director: Y/N!” His words fade into the background at you just awkwardly smile at the people he introduces you to, eyes avoiding a certain figure while your heartbeat fills your eardrums. 

Scott's sharp eyes caught your expression as he introduced you to the team, his easy smile faltering for just a moment. For a brief second, he looked lost, like he wanted to reach out, but he caught himself, clearing his throat. "Glad to have you aboard, Y/N. Should be an interesting season." His tone was carefully neutral, not betraying any of the emotions he must be feeling.

"Yeah, for sure!" You scratch the back of your neck, shirt riding up ever so slightly. "I think it'll be a ton of fun to work with you all." 

Scott's eyes inadvertently dart to the exposed patch of skin on your midriff, fingers involuntarily twitching at his side. He was always a tactile person—always needing to physically touch things to ground him—and now his fingers itched to touch you, to trace the familiar expanse of your skin. 

He clears his throat, forcing himself to look away, his usual casual mask firmly back in place. "Yeah, well, just don't get spooked the first time we chase a tornado." He smirks, the expression strained at the edges.

"I have enough experience chasing storms," You reply, gaze still avoiding him, the tension between you two slightly cold. He was the one who took you on chases to begin with. And god it fucking sucks that he’s pretending not to know you. 

"Okay team! Let's run analytics and get our days started." Javi claps causing everyone to scatter. Leaving just you and Scott. 

He leans against the Humvee, arms crossed, jaw tight like he was grinding glass. The others had scattered, voices fading into the hum of engines and distant thunder. Just you and him now. The air between you crackled with everything unsaid — every goodbye, every lie that love couldn’t fix.

He didn’t look at you right away. Just kicked at a loose stone with his boot, watching it skitter across the asphalt.

Then, voice low — sharp as shattered windshield glass:

“You really thought no one would see you running? That I wouldn’t *know*?” He scoffed, finally turning those storm-gray eyes on you. “All that ‘new start’ bullshit. Yeah. Cute.” His lip curled slightly. “You didn’t want a fresh start—you wanted to *erase* me.”

He stepped closer—just enough to make your breath hitch—and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets like he was holding back more than words.

"You have some nerve showing up here," he grits out, his gaze hardening. "Like you didn't rip my goddamn heart out."

Your jaw clenches, fists following suit. "Scott don't pretend like *I'm* the one who ruined things." Turning on your heel, you begin to walk back to Javi before pausing. "And for the record? I had no idea you'd be here or I wouldn't have taken this damn job." 

His hand whips out with surprising speed, latching onto your wrist before you can get too far.

"Wait." His voice has that edge now. The one that meant he wasn't backing down. Not this time.

He was *furious* — not just at you, but at the whole screwed up situation. That familiar anger you knew all too well, like a simmering wildfire. 

"Don't walk away," he growled, dragging you back toward him. "Don't act like you're the goddamn victim here."

"That's the fucking problem with you, Scott." You pull his hand off of you, as if his touch was a hot iron. "You're always focused on who was right, who's the winner. That's fucking bullshit." 

He glares at you, his jaw clenching. You'd struck a nerve, hit the mark, and he hated it, hated you for saying what he didn't want to hear. 

"Bullshit? No, the bullshit is that you *left*," he retorts. "I was fighting for us. I was *fighting* for *you*. But all you could see was some new, shiny thing instead of something that was working."

He takes a step closer, eyes blazing. "You were afraid. You were always afraid to commit."

"It was working for *you*, you never stopped to consider my fucking feelings. I didn't give up on us, I chose my sanity." Your eyes hold a surprising softness — a familiar sadness. "But what does it matter anyway? I'm only working here until I can find something better, so why not just keep pretending we don't know each other, hm?"

His gaze softens just a fraction, a crack in his defenses — a hint of the old Scott, the one who looked at you like you hung the stars. He hesitates, but then the steel masks his expression again and he shakes his head almost like he's clearing his thoughts.

"Pretend we don't know each other," he repeats, scoffing. "How very mature."

He takes another step, closing the distance between you with a stride, his face inches from yours. "I'll tell you one thing: I'm damn good at pretending."

"You're the one who pretended to not know me, to not know I've been on chases before, the ones *you* took me on." In the distance Javi calls out for you, you glance at him before glaring back at Scott. "So be good, pretend we had nothing." 

He flinches—just once, barely noticeable—like you’d finally landed a punch he couldn’t dodge. His jaw works, eyes flicking down for a split second, betraying that yeah, he remembers every damn chase he ever pulled you into. The ones where you clung to his arm as the sky turned green. The ones where he laughed and said *"You're fearless."*  

Then Javi calls again, louder.

Scott straightens like nothing happened. Cold. Smooth. Back in control.

"Right," he says flatly, voice stripped of everything but sarcasm now. "Wouldn’t want to *complicate* your fresh start by acknowledging I taught you how to read storm cells while we were half-dead from heat and adrenaline." He smirks—but it doesn't reach his eyes.*"Pretend all you want, sweetheart.* Just don’t expect me to be nice about it."  

He turns away with a shove of his hands into his pockets and mutters under his breath just loud enough for you to hear: "Because I sure as hell didn’t spend five years missing you."

“Fuck,” You whisper, ripping the cap off to run a hand through your hair, biting back your tears. He had every right to be mad, you did leave, then you came back into his life, infiltrated his job… 

But you just try to brush it off and focus on the job you just got. 

The Oklahoma sky bruised purple-black by mid-afternoon, the air thick with the metallic tang of ozone and the promise of violence. Javi barked coordinates over the radio, his voice tight with focus as the van bounced violently along a dirt access road, kicking up plumes of red dust that coated the windshield. 

You clung to the dashboard handle, knuckles white, your forgotten marketing binder sliding across the floorboards. Outside, the landscape flattened into a terrifying expanse, the horizon dominated by a monstrous supercell boiling upwards – a vast, churning anvil blotting out the sun. 

Lightning spiderwebbed inside its dark belly, illuminating the eerie greenish glow beneath its base.

"Wall cloud rotating!" Scott’s voice crackled over the radio from the Humvee ahead, detached, professional. "Deploying probes at marker Delta." You watched through the dust-streaked window as the Humvee slewed to a stop, Scott and another tech scrambling out, hauling heavy instrument pods towards the edge of a newly forming mesocyclone. 

Wind whipped their jackets, snapping like sails. A sudden downdraft hammered the van, rocking it violently. Hailstones, small at first, then marble-sized, began pelting the roof like frantic drumming. Javi cursed, wrestling the wheel as visibility dropped to near-zero in the swirling dirt and ice.

"Get that camera rolling, rookie!" Javi yelled, not taking his eyes off the roiling sky visible through a momentary break in the hail curtain. "This is textbook!" Fumbling, you grabbed your camera, heart hammering against your ribs. Peering through the viewfinder, you framed the terrifying beauty: the lowering wall cloud, the frantic techs, Scott’s silhouette momentarily illuminated by a blinding flash of lightning, his face etched with fierce concentration, utterly ignoring you. 

The sheer power was humbling, terrifying, exhilarating – a brutal baptism by storm. Hours blurred into adrenaline-fueled tracking, data collection, near-misses with wind-sheared debris, and the constant, low thrum of tension radiating from Scott whenever your paths crossed during brief equipment checks. 

By dusk, as the storm dissipated into ragged rain shafts, exhaustion settled like lead weights. You helped silently pack rain-slick gear back into the van, the unspoken words between you and Scott hanging heavier than the humid Oklahoma air.

The van’s headlights cut through the gloom as Javi pulled into the gravel lot of a roadside motel, its neon sign flickering *VACANCY*. Rain lashed the windshield, washing away the day’s dust and adrenaline. 

Javi killed the engine, turning in his seat with a grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Hell of a first day, rookie. Keep your cool when that hail curtain dropped—impressive." 

He glanced toward Scott, who was already shoving open the passenger door of the Humvee parked beside them. "Scott? What’d you think? She handle it alright?"

Scott didn’t turn. His shoulders stiffened beneath his soaked jacket as he hauled a probe case from the backseat. "Didn’t freeze," he muttered, the words clipped and hollow, like stones dropped into a well. 

He slammed the door shut, the sound sharp in the wet silence, and stalked toward the motel office without a backward glance.

Javi chuckled, shaking his head. "That's Scott for you. Takes time to defrost." He glanced back at you, noting the way you watched Scott's retreating form in the rain. It was hard to miss the tension buzzing between you both.

He cleared his throat, redirecting your attention. "Look, rookie, you did good today. But this ain't gonna be a walk in the park. Be prepared for long hours, little sleep, and a whole lot of Scott." He smirked.

"That sounds like a plan!" You grin back at him, "Other than dealing with Scott." 

Javi raised an eyebrow at your candidness but couldn't suppress a smirk. "Yeah, Scott's...a force, alright. You'll either learn to love him or want to strangle him by the end of this stint." His expression softened a bit. 

"He's a good guy, Y/N. Tough, sure, but he's one of the best in the field. Just...cut him some slack, alright? I know it's not easy, the way he is."

"Yeah of course," The two of you finally exit out of the van, dufflebags in hand, walking side by side. When you enter the office, Scott sends a tense look your way, his jaw clenching at your closeness. 

"By the way, do you know anywhere close by to get a drink?"

Javi chuckled, sensing the undercurrents between you and Scott. He leaned against the motel's worn counter and looked at you with a knowing smile. "Yeah, there's a dive bar about a mile up the road. Nothing fancy, but the beer's cold and cheap."

Scott, standing behind you, bristled at the conversation. His knuckles were white as he gripped his bag too tightly.

"I might have to check it out!" Your eyes twinkle behind the sleepiness. "But I think it'd be nice to get settled in first." Javi hands you your room key, a soft grin on his face.

"No harm in relaxing after the day we had." Javi nodded, handing you the key. "Room 216. It's nothing fancy, but there's a bed and a hot shower. And it's dry, which is a luxury these days."

Scott hovered near the office door, watching the exchange with a guarded expression, his shoulders tense.

“Perfect!” Taking the key, you walk past Scott, heading to the elevator. 

Scott's gaze followed you, his jaw clenching as you disappeared into the elevator. The doors slid shut, leaving him alone with Javi, whose expression was a bit too knowing for Scott's liking.

He cleared his throat, trying to sound casual. "Javi, can I speak to you for a minute?"

Javi turned, raising an eyebrow at Scott's tone. Sensing the weight of the conversation, he nodded. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"

Scott's jaw clenched and unclenched, his eyes flickering to the now-closed elevator door before settling back on Javi. "It's about Y/N," he ground out, his voice a few degrees colder than usual.

Javi nodded slowly, folding his arms across his chest. "I figured as much," he replied, his tone neutral. "What about her?"

Scott's hands curled into fists at his sides, the tension in the lobby thick enough to suffocate. "I don't think it's a good idea for her to be part of this team," he said bluntly, his gaze locked with Javi's. "She's not cut out for it."

Javi's eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. "Why? She did just fine today. Held her own better than some seasoned chasers I know."

Scott scoffed, the sound sharp in the quiet lobby. "She was shaky. Nervous. You saw her in that chase. She almost got hit by falling hail, for Christ's sake."

Javi's gaze darkened, his patience fraying at the edges. "Everyone gets jittery on their first day. Doesn't mean she's not cut out for this. She's got potential."

Scott let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Potential for what? Getting herself killed?" He took a step closer, his tone scathing. "She's a liability, Javi. We need focus, not deadweight."

Javi bristled, a muscle working in his jaw. "Deadweight? Is that what you think of her?"

Scott's eyes flashed, his voice rising with anger. "That's not what I—"

But Javi cut him off, his own anger finally snapping. "You've been treating her like she doesn't exist, Scott! What is your problem?"

“Nothing.” He throws his bag over his shoulder. “Forget it, see you in the morning.” Scott walks to the elevator, only to find you standing by the staircase, eyes wide and watery. 

The sight of you, standing there with tears brimming in your eyes, made his gut twist. "Y/N, how long have you been standing there?" He cursed under his breath, cursing whatever deity decided to have you witness that whole conversation.

"It doesn't matter," Your arms cross as you turn away, pressing the button. When the doors open you slip inside, eyes trained on the floor. "Just cause I broke up with you, that doesn't mean you get to fuck around with my career." 

Scott's jaw clenches as the words hit him like a punch in the gut. He followed you into the elevator, the doors closing behind him with a soft click, sealing you both in a charged silence. "That's not what I was doing," he retorted, his voice low. The tension in the cramped space was tangible — a storm waiting to explode.

"No? You’re not seeking revenge for me *wronging you*?" Your hand tightens around the strap of your duffle bag as the ride comes to a stop at your floor and you quickly push past him. Leaving him with his thoughts. 

———————————————————

The motel lobby smelled faintly of stale coffee and industrial cleaner. Morning light streamed through smudged windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Javi leaned against the worn counter, holding out a steaming paper cup. "Figured you might need this after yesterday," he said, his grin wide and easy. "Double shot. Black."

You blinked at him, your eyes puffy and shadowed from a night spent tangled in damp sheets—half-sobbing into the thin pillow, half-dozing fitfully. The cheerful offer felt jarring against the raw ache behind your ribs. You took the coffee, the heat seeping into your chilled fingers. "Thanks," you mumbled, the word thick.

Javi’s smile softened. He didn’t ask. Just nudged your shoulder gently with his own, a solid, warm presence. "Rough first night on the road, huh? Happens. C'mon, let's grab some greasy eggs before Scott finishes sulking over the Humvee's tire pressure." 

He gestured toward the diner door, leaving space for you to lean in or pull away. The simple kindness, the lack of probing questions, loosened something tight in your chest. You took a shaky breath, the bitter coffee suddenly tasting like a lifeline.

You smile at him, a real one, even though it comes with slightly flushed cheeks and swollen eyebags. “Thank you, Javi.” 

Javi nodded, understanding in his eyes. "No need to thank me, rookie. Just doing my part to keep you functional." He gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before pushing open the diner door, holding it for you to step through.

Inside, the diner was bustling, the clatter of silverware and the hum of conversation creating a comforting lull. Scott was already there, perched on a worn booth at the back. His gaze flicked up as you and Javi approached, then back down at the newspaper spread out in front of him.

"So, where's the wind taking us today?" You try to fake a cheerful expression as you slide into the booth across from Scott and Javi, eyes only focusing on the latter. 

Javi shrugged, eyeing the diner's laminated menu. "We've got a string of nasty storms moving through central Oklahoma. We'll be following the radar closely and moving southward, depending on the wind direction." 

Scott grunted, still engrossed in his newspaper. His eyes flicked a glance your way before returning to the sports section. 

Javi shot him a look, exasperated. "Scott, you gonna join us or just grunt all morning?"

"That sounds like a plan!" You fumble with the coffee mug in front of you. 

You took a sip of scalding coffee, the burn grounding you. "Also, Javi," you added, leaning forward slightly. "I was thinking... it would be a really good idea if I snapped a photo of you outside during the storm, setting up the equipment." You gestured vaguely towards the window, where grey clouds were already gathering in the distance. "Showcasing the actual fieldwork? It’d give people a real perspective on what you guys *do* out there."

Javi’s eyes lit up. "Hell yeah! Show 'em we're not just staring at screens." He grinned, nudging Scott’s boot under the table. "What d’you think, Scott? Good promo material?"

Scott didn’t look up from his newspaper. His knuckles whitened around his coffee mug. "Do whatever you want," he muttered, the words clipped and cold. He flipped the page with a sharp snap, the sound cutting through the diner’s chatter.

The silence at the booth thickened, broken only by the scrape of forks on plates and Javi’s easy banter with the waitress refilling coffees. You pushed scrambled eggs around your plate, acutely aware of Scott’s presence across from you—the rigid set of his shoulders, the deliberate rustle of his newspaper. 

Every glance you risked in his direction met the impenetrable wall of newsprint he held up like a shield. The air crackled with unspoken words, heavy and suffocating, making each bite of toast feel like dust in your throat.

The waitress refilled Javi’s mug, her cheerful chatter grating against the silence radiating from you and Scott. You stabbed a piece of sausage, the fork scraping loudly on the cheap ceramic plate. Across the booth, Scott flipped another page of his newspaper, the sharp crackle of paper echoing like gunfire in the cramped space. 

You kept your gaze fixed on the condensation sliding down your water glass, tracing the path of a single droplet while Scott stared resolutely at an article about soybean futures, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack a walnut. The air between you hung thick and stagnant, charged with five years of hurt neither of you dared exhale.

 “Uh, guys?” Javi clears his throat, hand dropping to the table, causing the both of you to glance up at him. “Care to tell me what' s goin’ on?” 

You freeze, eyes darting from Javi's questioning frown to Scott's stony expression, his gaze still buried behind the newspaper.

The silence stretches awkwardly, punctuated only by the clink of utensils and the hum of voices from the other diners. Javi glances between you and Scott, a growing understanding dawning in his eyes.

Finally, Scott lowers the newspaper, folding it with crisp precision, still avoiding your gaze. "Nothing," he mutters, his voice tight. "Can we just eat?"

"I think I've had enough," You push the plate, standing up awkwardly. "I'll wait for you guys outside." You give Javi a sweet smile, refusing to even glance toward Scott. 

Javi's eyes flicker with something like concern as you stand up, but his smile stays steady.

"Sure thing," he says, watching you leave. His attention then turns to Scott, who's still got his gaze locked on the table. "You gonna tell me what's going on with you two?"

Scott shrugs, pretending to be engrossed in the newspaper's sports section. "Don't know what you're talking about."

You leaned against the cold metal flank of the ‘Storm Par’ van, arms crossed tight against the Oklahoma dawn chill. The air was sharp, clean—damp pavement and wet grass filling your lungs. It smelled like dew and quiet roads, like mornings before Scott ever kissed you under an oak tree. 

The sky was bruised blue and grey, the sun still hidden below the horizon. For a moment, the knot in your chest loosened. Just the hum of distant trucks, the scent of home, and the promise of a storm chasing day ahead. 

The voice, smooth as Oklahoma whiskey and utterly unfamiliar, cut through the quiet dawn. You startled, arms dropping to your sides as you turned. Leaning against the hood of a nearby truck, bathed in the motel's weak porch light, was a man you hadn't seen before. 

Blond hair tousled, green eyes crinkled with slight amusement, and a grin that seemed permanently etched onto his face. He nodded towards the diner window where Scott and Javi were still visible. "What's got you all worked up so early, doll?"

“Oh, nothin’...” You breathe out, watching as he steps closer to you, hands in his pockets. 

The stranger's gaze traveled to the van and the "Storm Par" logo emblazoned on its side. He raised his eyebrows in approval, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Storm Par, huh?" he drawled, nodding towards the van. "You one of Javi's crew? Or just a fan of chasing tornadoes and getting into trouble?"

"Somewhat part of the crew," You laugh softly. "You look familiar, have we met before?" 

The stranger tilted his head, studying your face intently. A brief flash of recognition flickered across his features before it vanished. He leaned back against the van, casually kicking a foot up against its bumper.

"Can't say we have," he shrugged, that crooked grin returning. "But if we had, I'm certain I wouldn't forget a pretty face like yours."

“Oh! I know!” Your posture straightens, eyes glistening from under your worn out cap. “You’re that one guy, Tyler somethin’. Isn’t your catch phrase: ‘if you feel it, chase it.’?” 

But before the conversation can go further, Scott and Javi are at your side, Javi greeting him with a small smile whereas Scott gives him a dark glare. 

"Tyler," Javi said, clapping the newcomer on the shoulder. "Didn't know you were in town."

Tyler grinned, pushing off the van and straightening to his full height—almost matching Scott's. "Just passing through. Heard there was a supercell brewing and thought I'd check in on my favorite storm chasers." His gaze flicked to you, playful. "And maybe make a new friend or two."

Scott stepped forward, his expression darkening as he positioned himself slightly between you and Tyler. "She's not part of your 'chase' quota," he said coldly.

Tyler raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by Scott's hostility. "Relax, Miller. Just making conversation." He turned back to you with that easy grin. "'If you feel it, chase it'—best advice I ever gave."

"Are you suggesting I chase you?" The words are a soft tease that earns a bright grin from him.

Tyler chuckled, the sound deep and rich, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Maybe if you're fast enough," he replies, a playful smirk on his lips. "See ya 'round, doll."

As he saunters away, a cool breeze rustles through the parking lot. Scott watches him go with a scowl, his fingers curled into tight fists. He turns to you, his gaze intense, like he wants to say something but holds back.

Javi chuckles as he unlocks the van door, sliding into the driver's seat and leaving you alone with Scott. 

Scott's eyes are still locked on Tyler, a muscle in his jaw working furiously. It's a long moment before he finally turns to you, his expression guarded and distant.

"Get in the car," he says, his voice gruff. "We're losing daylight."

“Scott,” You begin, eyes finally glancing up and meeting his. “We were just—”

"I don't care what you were *just* doing," Scott cuts in, voice low and rough, eyes blazing with something dangerously close to jealousy. "He's a damn vulture. Smells drama and dives in."

He steps closer, just enough that the air between you crackles. "You think I didn't see how he looked at you? Like you're some new game?" His voice drops to a whisper. "After everything—after *us*—you really gonna play that?"

Your breath catches.

Then he turns away sharply, yanking the van door open. "*Get in.*"

You slide into the seat, arms crossing over your chest once you’re buckled in. Your jaw clenches, eyes hardening as you stare at the road ahead of you. 

The van roared to life, vibrating beneath you like a caged beast. Outside, the Oklahoma sky turned a sickening purple and green—an angry swirl promising violence. Javi cranked up the radio, chatter about hook echoes and wall clouds filling the cab, but the real storm sat in front of you. 

Scott gripped the steering wheel, knuckles bone-white, his jaw set in a rigid line that screamed *don’t talk to me*. Every bump in the road jolted through the seat, a physical echo of the tension crackling between you. 

Five years. Five years of silence, of pretending the fracture didn’t exist, and now he acted like Tyler’s easy smile was a personal invasion. Like he still had any claim. The memory of his accusation—*play that?*—burned acid in your throat. 

You stared straight ahead, fingers digging into your thighs. The horizon swallowed the road whole, a vast, churning maw. 

The vehicle slammed into a pothole hard enough to rattle teeth, sending your shoulder crashing against the door frame. Outside, the world dissolved into chaos. Debris—shingles, branches, the mangled carcass of a stop sign—spun past the windshield like shrapnel. 

Rain hammered the roof in relentless, deafening waves, blurring the view into a swirling grey-green nightmare. Javi shouted coordinates over the radio static, his voice tight with adrenaline, while Scott wrestled the steering wheel, muscles straining against the violent gusts trying to tear the van sideways. 

Ahead, the storm’s core loomed—a monstrous, churning wall of black cloud, lit from within by vicious, strobing lightning. It pulsed like a living heart, swallowing the horizon whole. You braced against the dashboard, knuckles white, tasting ozone and dust and raw terror. 

This wasn’t chasing anymore. 

This was driving straight into the mouth of oblivion.

The van lurched to a stop, shuddering against the gale-force winds. Scott and Javi exploded from the doors like shrapnel, heads down against the horizontal rain. They moved in practiced tandem, a silent ballet against the roaring chaos—Javi wrestling a bulky radar unit from the back, Scott anchoring tripods into the mud-slicked earth, shouting swallowed by the storm’s roar. 

You stumbled out behind them, camera raised, the Nikon a cold, familiar weight in your hands. 

Wind tore at your jacket, plastering soaked hair across your face as you framed the shot: Scott’s silhouette, backlit by a jagged lightning strike, muscles corded as he heaved against the equipment, Javi crouched low beside him, hands flying over dials. 

The shutter clicked—a tiny defiance against the world’s furious howl.

The storm raged around you, a churning, screaming monster. But through the camera's viewfinder, everything slowed, the world narrowing to a series of precise moments. Scott and Javi's forms framed against the churning grey-green sky, their movements practiced, controlled. 

The camera shutter clicked with each shot, a soft, mechanical noise swallowed by the roar. 

Scott's back was a study in lean, corded muscle as he fought the wind to set the equipment, every line and sinew taut with concentration.

Scott's head snaps up from the radar unit, eyes searching the chaos. He can barely see through the rain, but he spots you, still out there, camera glued to your eye. 

He shouts something, but the words are lost in the thundering wind. Cursing, he waves furiously, trying to catch your attention. 

"Get in the van!" He yells. "The rotation speed is reaching critical. It's getting too intense!"

"Let me work!" You yell back, eyes narrowed and focused at the task at hand. The wind rips your NYU cap off your head, sweeping you backward ever so slightly. 

Scott's jaw sets in a hard line, frustration and worry warring in his gaze. 

"Damn it, I'm not playing around!" He yells over the storm. "This isn't a minor twister anymore! Get in the goddamn van!" 

He fights through the wind, closing the distance between you in a few powerful strides. His arm shoots out, catching your wrist in a viselike grip. "You're being stubborn as hell."

"Let go of me Scott!" You rip your arm out of his grasp, eyes narrowed and full of irritation.

Scott grits his teeth, anger flashing in his eyes. 

"Stop being so goddamn difficult!" He bellows, grabbing you again, trying to pull you toward the van. "You're going to get yourself killed, you stubborn idiot!"

"And if I do it's not your fucking responsibility." You know that now is not the time to argue, but honestly? You just can't fucking help it. Not when he's acting like he's still accountable for you.

"I don't care what you think!" he roars, rain slashing down his face, eyes blazing. "You're not dying on my watch, not today—"

He lunges forward as a piece of debris whips through the air toward you. In one brutal motion, he shoves you back and takes the impact full across his shoulder.

A sharp grunt tears from his throat—he stumbles—but stays between you and the storm like a wall.

Blood blooms dark against his torn jacket sleeve.

And in that split second, with wind screaming and lightning splitting the sky above… he looks at you.

"*Get in the van,*" he says again—voice breaking—and it’s not an order anymore. It’s a plea.

"Fine." You finally give in, sliding into the backseat, shivering slightly in your rain soaked clothes. You stare at your hands, eyes teary. “Fuck,” You drop your head forward, burrying your face in your palms, eyes shutting as you try to forget the pain in his face. 

Scott slides into the van next to you, slamming the door shut behind him. The wind dies to a low whisper, leaving an aching silence. He peels his jacket off, grimacing as he gingerly prods the fresh wound on his shoulder. His gaze roams to your shivering form, noticing your shoulders bowed.

He sighs, the sound weary and heavy. Without thinking, he leans back and grabs a wool blanket from one of the equipment boxes, draping it gingerly around your shoulders.

Javi gets into the driver's seat, putting the vehicle into gear, and quickly driving away from the storm. "Fuck. Scott, you're bleeding." 

You take a deep breath before reaching out to him, hand finding his shoulder, pressing a torn piece of fabric against the wound to soak up the blood. Your touch is light, careful, and warm. 

Scott's breath hitches as your fingers touch his shoulder. The unexpected gentleness almost makes him flinch. He fights against the shiver that wants to work down his spine, steeling himself against the unwelcome warmth spreading through his body from your touch.

"I'm fine..." he mutters, but it's a weak protest. His gaze flicks down, watching your hand press against the wound, your fingers stained with his blood.

"When we're parked I can take a closer look and get it cleaned up with the first aid kit." You murmur, more towards Javi rather than Scott. "It doesn't seem like he'll need stitches. Which is pretty lucky."

Scott grunts in agreement, wincing slightly as the van jolts over a pothole.

"I've had worse," he mutters, trying to sound indifferent. But there's a note of vulnerability beneath the words, a crack in the tough exterior he's trying so hard to maintain.

Javi glances in the rearview mirror at you both, eyebrow raised. He can sense the tension crackling between you like static electricity, but wisely stays silent.

The van rumbled down the rain-slicked highway, the storm's fury fading behind them into a bruised twilight. Silence stretched thick and suffocating between you and Scott, broken only by the rhythmic slap of windshield wipers and Javi’s occasional muttered updates over the radio. 

You kept your hand pressed firmly against Scott’s shoulder, the wool blanket draped around you both now, trapping an unwanted intimacy in the cramped space. His skin felt fever-hot beneath your fingertips, the ragged hitch in his breath whenever the van jolted the only sign of his pain.

After five miles of taut silence, Javi abruptly signaled and pulled the van onto a wide gravel shoulder beneath a skeletal billboard advertising a long-gone truck stop. He killed the engine. "Radar's acting squirrelly," he announced, not turning around. 

"Gonna check the connections on the roof unit. Don't move." He shoved his door open, vanishing into the drizzle without another word, leaving the cab steeped in sudden, heavy quiet. The only sound was the ticking of the cooling engine and Scott’s shallow breathing beside you.

“Take off your jacket,” You unbuckle the seatbelt, moving to grab the first aid kit before sliding between his legs. “I gotta get this cleaned up.”

Scott's eyes widen ever so slightly as you kneel between his legs, his breath catching in his throat. The proximity is overwhelming, stirring up memories he's spent years trying to bury. He's hyper-aware of the heat radiating from your body, the faint scent of rain and damp cotton.

He hesitates for a moment, muscles flexing as he tries to compose himself. Then, with a low curse, he shrugs off the denim jacket, exposing his shoulder. The torn shirt beneath is matted with blood, sticking to his skin.

You help him out of his shirt, your touch gentle and familiar. "Okay, I'm gonna put some alcohol on it."

The words send a shiver down Scott's spine, his muscles tensing involuntarily at the memory of the burn. "God, I hate that crap," he grumbles, but there's a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as if he's secretly enjoying the familiar banter.

As you dab the wound with the wet cloth, he hisses under his breath, his fingers clenching around his thigh. The pain is sharp and hot, but so is the nearness of you—it's dizzying.

Before long you have him all patched up and your eyes begin to wander  taking in every inch of exposed skin. 

Scott swallows hard as your gaze roves over his exposed torso. He can feel your eyes on him, making his skin burn hotter than the alcohol ever did.

He shifts uncomfortably, his muscles rippling under your stare, the tension between you crackling with an electric intensity he's trying to ignore and failing miserably.

"Eyes up here," he mutters, voice gruff.

Scott's breath hitches instinctively as your fingertips graze his cheek. His eyes flutter shut, a wave of something he hasn't let himself feel in ages washing over him.

His hand snaps up to catch your wrist, fingers wrapping around it gently but firmly. He opens his eyes, gaze locking with yours. His expression is raw, vulnerable, torn between the ache in his shoulder and the ache in his chest.

"Don't... don't apologize," he murmurs, his grip on your wrist tightening almost imperceptibly.

"I miss you." The words slip out before you can even really think about it.

Scott's heart clenches, his breath caught in his chest. His grip on your wrist tightens instinctively as your words echo through him. There's a war of emotions warring behind his eyes: anger, hurt, and, perhaps the most dangerous of all, a deep, aching longing.

"Don't...say that," he rasps, his voice hoarse. "Don't say you miss me."

"I know," Your fingers brush across his cheekbones, eyes soft and intimate. Javi opens the door, sliding back in, his seatbelt buckle clicking. 

"Get him all patched up?" His voice cuts through the tension. 

Scott's gaze breaks from yours, his shoulders tensing as Javi climbs back in. The moment is shattered, the connection between you snapped like a brittle thread.

Scott nods tersely, pulling away from your touch with a jerky movement. "Yeah. Yeah, she took care of it."

Javi glances between the two of you, curiosity flitting across his face. He opens his mouth, but before he can speak, Scott cuts him off. "Can we just get moving again? We've wasted enough time."

You find your way back into your seat, gulping as you stare out the main window. 

———————————————————

The motel room smelled of stale cigarettes and cheap lemon cleaner, thick enough to coat your tongue. You sprawled across the scratchy floral comforter, limbs heavy as lead weights. Outside, the neon vacancy sign buzzed like a trapped wasp, painting fractured red stripes across the peeling wallpaper. 

Javi had insisted Scott stay behind today—"Shoulder needs rest, Scott."—and the guilt was a physical thing, coiled tight and acidic in your gut. 

You replayed it again: Scott’s sharp intake of breath when Javi delivered the news, the way his knuckles whitened around his coffee mug, the flat, "Fine," that cut deeper than any argument. 

He hadn’t looked at you. Not once. 

The chase had been textbook—a photogenic supercell near Amarillo, lightning fracturing the bruised sky. You’d captured stunning shots: mammatus clouds boiling like dark pearls, hail shattering on barren earth. 

But every click of the shutter felt hollow. Empty. 

Your mind kept drifting back to Scott’s silent fury in the motel parking lot, the rigid set of his shoulders as he watched the van pull away without him. 

Now, alone in the dim room, the silence pressed in. You kicked off the thin sheet, the air conditioning unit rattling like loose bones in the wall. The pillowcase felt damp beneath your cheek—whether from sweat or the slow, hot tears you hadn’t realized were falling, you weren’t sure. 

You traced the frayed seam of the comforter, imagining Scott’s restless pacing in his room. Was he icing his shoulder? Was he replaying that moment in the van—your fingers on his cheek, the choked confession? 

A sudden, sharp rap on the door made you flinch. Your breath froze. 

Silence stretched, thick and expectant.

You stand, wiping your tears away, and heading to the door. You open it, shocked to find a flushed and drunk Scott standing with his arms crossed. “Baby? Are you okay?” 

Scott's eyes roam over you, taking in the tear tracks on your cheeks, the tension in your shoulders, the way you're clutching the door like a lifeline. His jaw clenches at the sight of you so unraveled, his defenses crumbling with each beat of his heart. 

He reeks of whiskey and bar smoke, his eyes glassy. A muscle in his jaw works as he fights the instinct to reach out, to pull you into his arms, to press you against the wall and—

He rubs a hand over his face, cursing under his breath. 

"You've been crying."

"I'm just tired," You protest, eyes falling to the floor as you wipe your face again. 

Scott's gaze softens ever so slightly, his heart clenching at the vulnerability in your voice. His fingers flex, itching to touch you—to soothe you—but he forces himself to keep his distance. 

"Look at you. You look like a damn mess. And I know for a fact you're not 'tired.' So, tell me what's going on." he mutters, his voice hoarse. 

"I'm wondering why you're drunk and standing outside my door, wanting to talk about my feelings." You sigh, hand reaching up to brush his shoulder. 

Scott's body tenses under your touch, but he doesn't move away. In fact, for one small moment, he seems to lean into it—a silent plea for the comfort only your touch can give.

"Maybe I just wanted to check on you, smartass," he grumbles, the insult lacking its usual bite. 

His gaze finally finds yours in the dim light, his expression pained. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, okay." You widen the door, allowing for him to slip in before shutting and locking it—out of habit. "What's really the matter? How can I help you?"

Scott slinks into the room, the door closing behind him with a decisive click. His eyes rake over you again, lingering on your tear-streaked cheeks. 

The whiskey in his veins makes his thoughts hazy, his defenses weak. He wants to tell you everything—how much it kills him to keep you at arm's distance, how he can't stand seeing you with anyone else, how he still loves you with a passion that borders on obsession.

But instead, he just leans against the wall and shrugs.

"I just needed to see you."

You sit on the edge of your bed and with a sigh, you open your arms. "Come here."

Scott's breath catches in his chest, his resolve crumbling at the sight of your open arms—an invitation he can't refuse. 

He crosses the room in three long strides, collapsing into your embrace like a man starved. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, his arms wrapping tightly around your frame as if afraid you might disappear. 

"God, I missed you," he breathes, the words half-muffled against your skin. "I missed you so goddamn much."

"I'm sorry," Your hands run along his back, fingers rubbing circles into his skin ever so slightly. 

Scott shivers at the touch, his body responding to you like a finely tuned instrument under your hands. He tries to fight the need to cling to you, to keep himself from succumbing to the comfort only you can give him. 

But it's a losing battle, and he knows it. He pulls you closer, his hands on your hips, his body pressed against you, desperate for contact.

"Don't apologize," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "Just let me hold you."

"For as long as you'd like." You tangle your fingers in his hair, nails scratching his scalp softly. "I'm here, not going anywhere baby."

Scott lets out a broken breath, your touch unraveling him completely. He nuzzles against your neck, lips brushing the sensitive skin there without thought—just instinct.

His hands slide up your back, pulling you impossibly closer as he sinks deeper into your warmth.

And then, barely a whisper against your skin: “Don’t make promises you won’t keep.”

You sigh, eyes squeezing tight as tears threaten to spill. "I know, I know." 

Scott's heart clenches in his chest, his grip on you growing tighter. He knows he shouldn't push, knows he should just let you be, but the words spill from his lips before he can stop them.

"Promise me you're not going anywhere. That you're staying with me—that you're *mine*." His voice breaks slightly, a desperate edge creeping in. His eyes search yours, seeking reassurance in your gaze. 

"Scott," You brush your thumbs over his cheeks. "You're drunk. Let's not do this right now, okay?"

Scott blinks, the words hitting him like a bucket of ice water. His grip loosens slightly, the raw vulnerability in his eyes quickly masked by a familiar wall of pride.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, jaw tightening as the weight of your words sinks in. He starts to stand, but stumbles just slightly, betrayed by both the whiskey and the ache in his chest.

"I'm not drunk *enough* for this," he says quietly, more to himself than to you.

"I'm sorry, Scott. I really am," You reach out for him again. 

Scott stumbles back as you reach for him, his pride rearing up with a vengeance. He shrugs off your hand, eyes flashing a warning.

 "Don't," he growls, his voice taut with the effort to remain in control. "Don't do that. Don't act like you care."

He turns away, running a hand through his hair, muscles rippling beneath his shirt. His shoulders rise and fall with quick, ragged breaths, the pain of your words cutting deep.

You wrap your arms around his waist, face burying against his back. "Scott, I don't want to talk about this when you're drunk. I don't want you to regret it in the morning, wake up resenting me..."

Scott goes rigid under your touch, his heart thudding wildly in his chest. His body craves your touch—longs for it—but his pride won't allow him to give in so easily. 

"Stop it," he grits out, his voice thick with both hurt and desire. "You don't get to dictate when and how I talk about us."

His hands clench into fists, knuckles white from the effort to resist turning, wrapping his arms around you, and crushing you against him.

"Goddammit, stop making this *harder."*

"Scott, please. Lets just lay down, you get sleepy when you drink. I can hold you, I'll be right by your side I promise." You wrap your arms around his waist, palms flat against his chest.

Scott's resolve wavers, the ache in his chest growing unbearable. The whiskey in his veins loosens his tongue, his defenses crumbling.

"You'll stay?" He murmurs, his voice a hoarse whisper. "All night?"

He tries to hide the pleading in his tone, but the raw desperation slips out in the hitch of his breath and the subtle shift of his body leaning into yours.

"All night," You press your face into his back, arms tightening around him. "And in the morning, we can talk. If you still want this, if you still want to try again, we can talk when you're more like yourself."

Scott's body trembles, the last of his willpower crumbling at your words. He wants to resist, to fight for some measure of control, but the alcohol in his veins and the warm press of your body against his back are too much to handle.

He lets out a defeated breath, the tension slowly bleeding out of his muscles.

"Fine," he murmurs, reluctantly allowing himself to lean into your embrace. "We'll talk in the morning. But you'd better not leave—not for a goddamn second, you hear me?"

"I won't, now let's lay down. Okay?" You guide him back to the bed, letting go just long enough to pull back the covers. "Do you still sleep naked?" You tease while moving to help him out of his shirt.

Scott lets out a low, humorless chuckle, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Some things never change," he murmurs, voice rough. He lifts his arms just enough to let you slide the shirt over his head—your fingers brushing bare skin sending a shiver down his spine. 

He kicks off his boots and peels off his jeans with a quiet groan, then sinks onto the bed with a tired sigh. The mattress dips as he shifts under the covers, making space—*for you.*

He doesn’t look at you as he settles in. Just pats the empty spot beside him once. "Get in before I change my mind."

You slide out of your jeans, slipping in next to him, arms wrapping around his body. You pull him on top of you, his face against your chest. "Relax baby. You need to get some rest."

Scott grumbles something incoherent against your chest, his body instinctively resisting the vulnerability of being held so close. But the whiskey, the exhaustion, and *you*—your scent, your warmth, the steady beat of your heart beneath his ear—pull him under like a riptide.

His arms slowly wrap around your waist again as he relaxes fully into you.

"You always did know how to ruin me," he mutters drowsily. 

And just before sleep claims him completely—his voice barely a whisper: "I love you... still."

"I never stopped loving you either," you whisper into the dark, fingers threading gently through his hair.  

Tears slip free, quiet, unchecked, and catching in the corners of your eyes as you stare at the cracked ceiling, heart aching with a kind of fragile hope.

The neon sign outside flickers, painting red streaks across his face—the hard lines softened now in sleep—and for the first time in years, it feels like coming home.

You press a kiss to his temple.

"Sleep well, baby."

Sunlight sliced through the cheap motel blinds, landing like a branding iron directly on Scott’s closed eyelids. He groaned, low and guttural, the throb behind his temples a brutal reminder of last night’s whiskey. 

Every muscle protested as he shifted, the scratchy sheets rasping against his bare skin. *Christ.* He squeezed his eyes shut tighter against the assaulting light, the pounding in his skull syncing with the distant rumble of a semi-truck on the highway.

Then, movement. The warm weight against his side registered. He froze. Slowly, carefully, he cracked one eye open, wincing against the glare.

There you were. Curled towards him, one hand tucked under your cheek, the other resting lightly on his chest. Your breathing was deep and even, eyelashes casting faint shadows on your cheeks. Peaceful. Utterly serene. 

The frantic energy, the guarded tension he’d grown accustomed to seeing etched around your eyes and mouth – it was gone. Softened. Replaced by a vulnerability that stole his breath.

The jackhammer in his skull didn’t vanish, but it… muted. Became background noise. The harsh sunlight felt less like an attack and more like a spotlight illuminating something precious he’d forgotten existed. 

He watched the gentle rise and fall of your chest beneath the thin sheet, the way a stray strand of hair lay across your forehead. Five years of distance, of bitterness, of pretending he didn’t care, dissolved in that quiet moment.

Without conscious thought, his arms tightened around you. Not possessively, not desperately like last night, but protectively. Reverently. He pulled you closer, burying his nose in the crown of your head, inhaling the familiar scent beneath the motel’s lemon cleaner. 

The ache in his head was still there, the sour taste of whiskey lingered, but holding you… it was an anchor. Solid. Real. A silent vow formed in the stillness: *This. This is what I fought for. This is what I almost lost.* 

He pressed his lips softly against your hairline, the thrumming pain fading further into insignificance against the warmth flooding his chest.

“Mmm,” You nuzzle into him, eyelashes fluttering against his skin. “Goodmorning, how’s your head?”

"Could've been worse," he mutters, voice rough with sleep and emotion. His fingers trail lightly down your back, savoring the warmth between you.

He hesitates for a moment before meeting your eyes, vulnerability flickering across his face.

"Still want to talk?"

"That depends," You yawn, stretching as you sit up, moving for the waterbottle on the night stand. You reach over him into the drawer, grabbing some painkillers and handing them to them. 

"Do you still... Feel like you did last night?" Your eyes barely raise up enough to look at him. 

Scott stares at the pills in his hand for a moment, his throat bobbing as he swallows the pills dry. His gaze drifts from the pills to your face, his expression guarded.

"Which part? The part where I told you how much I miss you, or the part where I told you I still love you?"

He sits up as well, leaning back against the headboard. The light streams in through the half-open blinds, casting shadows over his bare shoulders.

"Both, I guess." You chuckle dryly, hands moving across his bare thighs, massaging the muscles. 

"Both," he says, voice low, rough with sleep and something deeper. "Yeah. I meant every damn word."

His hand catches yours on his thigh, holding it there—warm, solid. His thumb traces slow circles over your knuckles.

"I'm not drunk anymore," he murmurs, eyes locked on yours now, stripped bare of defenses. "And I still don't wanna let you go."

"Can you forgive me?" You move closer, settling on his lap, straddling his hips. "For leaving you?"

Scott's hands settle on your thighs, fingers flexing lightly as he pulls you closer—a silent, greedy reflex. His arms snake around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

He looks up at you, eyes searching your face for a lingering moment before answering. "I'm still angry," he admits quietly. "I'll always be angry that you left."

His grip on you tightens, a muscle in his jaw working as he continues. "But I'll always love you more."

You lean in, eyes scanning his. "I'm sorry I left, I just thought that..." You sigh, hands cupping his face. "It doesn't matter, not now. But I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." You press your lips to his, gentle yet hungry and desperate.

All the tension—the pent up emotion, the pain, the years of missing you like a phantom limb—rushes to the surface as you kiss him.

He returns the kiss with fervor, every ounce of his need for you pouring into it. His hands slide up your back, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you impossibly closer.

"God, I missed you," he breathes between kisses. "Missed you so damn much."

"I missed you," You press your lips to his again, rougher more needy this time, your hips slowly beginning to grind against his.

Scott grunts, hips automatically bucking up against you, his body responding instantly to your touch—a familiar rhythm that hasn't faded in the slightest.

He presses his lips to your throat, nipping and sucking gently at the sensitive flesh, his hands roaming over your body with a desperate hunger.

"Can't get enough of you," he murmurs, voice rough with need. "Been needing you for—"

His words are cut off by a sharp knock on the door.

"Fuck, stay put." You slide off his lap, hair messy and eyes tired as you crack it open slightly. "Hello? Javi?"

Javi stands in the doorway looking every bit as tired as you feel. His eyes flick over you, taking in your disheveled appearance and Scott's shirtless form behind you, then he cracks a smirk.

"You two finally done ripping each other to pieces?" He drawls, a sly glint in his eyes.

"It's, uh, not like that!" You shyly scratch the back of your neck. "But do you think I can stay here? With Scott, just for today of course..."

Javi cocks an eyebrow, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips as he eyes Scott over your shoulder.

"Sure sure," he drawls, feigning innocence. "I'm sure Scott won't mind, will he?"

Scott grumbles something unintelligible, running a hand through his messy hair as he leans back against the headboard, the sheets pooling around his bare waist.

"Well, then I hope the chase goes well today. Uh, good luck and everything!" You laugh awkwardly, shooting a glance at Scott, who now has a pillow over his lap. 

Javi chuckles low, a knowing smile plastered across his face. He glances over your shoulder again at Scott, eyes flickering with barely concealed amusement at the sight of the pillow over his lap.

"Yeah. I'm sure we'll be fine," he says, voice dripping with innuendo. "You two... uh, have fun."

Your cheeks flush as he walks away, you shut the door, turning to face Scott with a shy grin. "That was,"

Scott sits up, the pillow still strategically placed across his lap, and lets out a low chuckle.

"He knows damn well what we'll be doing," he mutters, eyes roaming over your flushed cheeks and disheveled hair. "You're a terrible liar, by the way."

"Ugh," You walk back over to him, pushing the pillow away and settling on his lap again. "Don't remind me." Your hands cup his face, thumbs brushing his cheeks.

Scott hums in appreciation as you settle back onto his lap, his hands instinctively coming to rest on your thighs. He leans into your touch, his gaze roaming over your face with a mix of desire and affection.

"You’re always easy to read," he murmurs, voice low and rough. "Your poker face is non-existent."

"Shut it," The words come out as more of a groan, your eyes twinkling before you kiss him again, a soft peck. "Now, where were we?" Your fingers slide up his neck, tangling in the roots of his hair, tugging slightly.

Scott lets out a low moan as you tug at his hair, sending a jolt of heat coursing through him. He growls lowly, his hands gripping your thighs with possessive desperation.

He captures your lips in a deep, hungry kiss, tongue delving into your mouth hungrily. He nips at your bottom lip, a subtle reminder—a claim.

"Right... here," he murmurs against your mouth, his hands roaming up to the hem of your shirt, his fingers teasing the bare skin beneath.

"Mm, baby..." Your hips move against his once again, lips rough and hungry over his. 

Scott's breath hitches as you press against him, his hips bucking up against yours almost involuntarily. His hands slide up your thighs, fingers digging into the curves of your hips as he pulls you closer, the heat radiating between you growing more intense by the second.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your throat, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh.

"I need you," he murmurs, voice thick with desire. "Now."

"Then take me, however you need." Your fingers tug on his hair.

Those words is all the invitation Scott needs.

With a low growl, he pushes you backward on the bed, his body pressing you into the mattress. His lips trail down your neck, his fingers finding the edge of your shirt and slowly lifting it up, exposing more and more of your skin to his touch.

He hovers for a moment, eyes drinking in the sight of you beneath him—flushed and breathless and *wanting him*—and the hunger in his gaze is almost primal.

His gaze raked over you—the flush spreading down your chest, the rapid flutter of your pulse beneath his lips, the way your breath hitched when his thumb brushed the swell of your breast. Five years of aching emptiness evaporated in the heat of this moment. He didn’t tease. He didn’t savor. This was claiming. 

With a ragged groan, Scott ripped your shirt over your head, the fabric catching briefly on your wrists before he tossed it aside. His mouth crashed back onto yours, all teeth and desperation, while his calloused hands shoved your sleep shorts down your hips. 

You kicked them off, arching against him, skin meeting skin in a shock of heat. 

He broke the kiss only to trail scorching, open-mouthed kisses down your sternum, over the curve of your breast, his tongue swirling around a hardened peak before sucking hard enough to make you cry out. 

His hand slid between your thighs, fingers finding you slick and ready—no hesitation, just two thick fingers plunging deep, curling in a way that had your hips jerking off the mattress. 

“Scott—!” His name tore from your throat, raw and pleading. 

He looked up, eyes black with need. “Mine,” he rasped, the word a vow against your damp skin. His fingers withdrew, glistening, and he fumbled with his own shorts, shoving them down just enough. 

Then he was surging forward, his weight pinning you, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance. A ragged breath escaped him. “Look at me.” 

You forced your eyes open, drowning in the intensity of his stare—the raw, unguarded hunger, the years of longing laid bare. He pushed in slowly, agonizingly, stretching you wide, filling you completely. 

A choked sob escaped you—not pain, but overwhelming relief, the visceral rightness of him buried deep inside you again after so long. He stilled, trembling, forehead pressed to yours, breathing your air. 

“Never leaving you again,” you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders. 

A guttural sound ripped from his chest. He withdrew almost completely, then slammed back in, setting a brutal, driving rhythm that shook the cheap motel bedframe. Each thrust was a punctuation mark to every unsaid word, every lonely night, every furious argument left behind. 

You met him stroke for stroke, heels digging into the small of his back, pulling him deeper, claiming him just as fiercely. The air filled with the slap of skin, your mingled cries, and the relentless, primal need to erase every second of those lost years.

The rhythm was relentless, a furious piston-drive fueled by years of pent-up ache. Scott braced himself on his forearms, muscles corded tight, sweat slicking his skin as he drove into you again and again. 

Each deep, claiming thrust scraped a raw, perfect friction against that spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyelids. Your cries weren't words anymore, just shattered gasps and his name ripped from your throat on a ragged sob. 

He watched you unravel beneath him, eyes locked on yours, dark and possessive, drinking in every tremor, every desperate clutch of your fingers on his back. "Feel it," he growled, voice thick and wrecked, hips snapping harder, deeper. "Feel how much I fucking missed you." 

His hand slid between your sweat-slicked bodies, thumb finding your clit, pressing hard circles against the swollen bud. The dual assault—the relentless fullness inside, the sharp, electric friction outside—coiled the tension in your belly impossibly tight. 

You arched off the mattress, a silent scream tearing through you as the climax detonated, white-hot and shattering, flooding your veins with liquid fire. 

Scott felt your inner muscles clamp down around him in fierce, pulsing waves, and with a guttural moan that echoed yours, he buried himself to the hilt, his own release erupting in hot, shuddering pulses deep inside you, sealing the desperate promise written in sweat and shared breath.

The aftershocks pulsed through you both, bodies locked in a trembling embrace slick with sweat and release. Scott collapsed onto his forearms, forehead pressed to yours, his ragged breaths mingling with yours in the charged silence. 

He didn't pull out, staying buried deep within you, a possessive anchor against the tremors still coursing through your limbs. His eyes, dark and fathomless, held yours—no words needed. The years of separation, the arguments, the aching loneliness dissolved in the primal heat still radiating between your joined bodies. 

His thumb traced your swollen lower lip, a reverence replacing the earlier frenzy. "Still mine," he rasped, the words a raw, guttural vow against your skin, echoing the desperate claiming that still throbbed inside you. 

His hips shifted minutely, a subtle, possessive grind that drew a sharp gasp from you, the embers instantly flaring back to life. The sheer *rightness* of him filling you, the visceral proof of his need after so long, was more potent than any declaration. 

He kissed you then, deep and slow and devastatingly thorough, tasting the salt on your lips, sealing the unspoken promise written in the frantic rhythm of your shared heartbeat and the lingering, possessive heat where your bodies fused.

“Scotty, I think we could use a damn shower.” You grin up at him, holding his face gently as you press soft kisses to his face. 

​​Scott chuckled, low and rough, the sound vibrating through your chests where you were still pressed together. "Shower?" His thumb traced the curve of your hipbone, a possessive glide over damp skin.

 "Later." His hips rolled again, deliberate and slow this time, dragging his still-hard length against your oversensitive walls, coaxing a sharp gasp from your throat. 

The friction was exquisite torture, a reminder of the desperate claiming just moments before. He kissed the pulse hammering in your neck, his lips trailing fire. "Still got years to make up for," he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with renewed hunger. 

“Fuck,” you whine as his hand slides down your belly, fingers slipping through the slick mess between your thighs, gathering your shared wetness before circling your clit with agonizing, deliberate pressure. 

"Gonna feel you come again," he growled, the command rough and absolute, his gaze locked on yours, dark with a need that hadn't dimmed, only deepened. 

"Right here. Like this." He pushed deeper, filling you completely, the stretch achingly familiar and utterly consuming, erasing every second of the lonely years with the relentless, possessive heat of his body claiming yours again.

His fingers tightened on your hip, pinning you beneath him as he dragged his cock out almost completely—an excruciating inch at a time—before slamming back to the hilt. A ragged cry tore from your throat, nails scoring his shoulders as he filled you, stretched you, *owned* you with every brutal thrust. 

Sweat dripped from his jaw onto your collarbone, each drop scalding as his gaze burned into yours—raw, unflinching hunger stripped bare. "Look at me," he demanded, voice shredded. "See what you do to me?" His hips pistoned harder, deeper, the slap of skin echoing the frantic drum of your heart. 

You arched, meeting him stroke for stroke, heels digging into the small of his back, pulling him impossibly deeper as the coil in your belly tightened to breaking. His thumb found your clit, pressing ruthless circles just as his cock hit that spot inside you that sparked white behind your eyelids. 

"Cum for me," he growled against your mouth, the command a dark promise. "Now." The dual assault shattered you—body convulsing around him, inner walls clamping down in pulsing waves as you screamed his name, the sound swallowed by his crushing kiss. 

He followed instantly, a guttural roar ripped from his chest as he buried himself to the root, flooding you with hot, claiming pulses that sealed every fractured piece back together.

“Now we can shower.” He murmurs, lips pressing to your forehead. 

The motel bathroom was small, steam curling thick and humid around them as Scott guided you under the spray. His touch was reverent now—soap-slicked hands gliding over your shoulders, down your spine, lingering on the curve of your hip. 

He washed you like something precious, fingertips tracing old scars, the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, as if memorizing every inch anew. Water sluiced between your bodies, washing away sweat and the scent of sex, but not the heat. Not the hunger. 

His thumb brushed your nipple, drawing a soft gasp from you, and his eyes darkened. "Turn around," he murmured, voice rough against the drumming water. You obeyed, bracing your hands against the slick tile. 

His hands slid down your belly, fingers spreading you open beneath the spray. He washed you there too, slow, intimate circles that made your knees tremble. Then his body pressed flush against your back, hard and demanding. One hand gripped your hip, the other guiding himself to your entrance. 

"Need you again," he growled, teeth grazing your shoulder as he pushed in, deep and claiming, the hot water cascading over your joined bodies as he moved, relentless and possessive, sealing every promise with every thrust.

The steam thickened, wrapping around you both like a second skin as Scott pressed you against the cool tile, his body a furnace against your back. His cock slid deeper with agonizing slowness, stretching you wide, filling you completely—a possessive reclamation that drew a ragged moan from your throat. 

Water sluiced over his shoulders, down the hard planes of his chest, mingling with the slick heat where your bodies joined. His hand slid up your belly, fingers splaying possessively over your ribs before cupping your breast, thumb circling your nipple with deliberate, maddening pressure. 

"Feel how deep you take me," he growled against your ear, teeth grazing the lobe as his hips rolled in a slow, grinding rhythm that dragged his length against every sensitive ridge inside you. His other hand slid lower, fingers parting your folds to find your clit, already swollen and throbbing. 

He pressed down hard, circling in tight, relentless spirals just as he angled his thrusts to hit that spot that made your vision blur. "That’s it, baby," he rasped, voice raw with need, "let go for me. Scream how much you missed this." The pleasure—the deep, claiming fullness and the sharp, electric friction—coiled your muscles taut. 

You arched back against him, nails scraping tile as pleasure detonated, a white-hot wave that ripped through you, clenching around him in pulsing waves. Scott groaned, low and guttural, his fingers digging into your hip as he drove into you harder, faster, chasing his own release. 

As Boone’s younger sister you’ve obviously met Tyler countless times before, although you’ve always been a little too shy when it comes to him almost as if you’re trying to keep your distance from him. But you practically *begged* your brother to take you along this tornado season even if it meant being cramped in a car with Tyler for countless hours on end. 

You’ve been trying to make it as a photographer and capturing a storm is a beautiful opportunity. You keep your attention trained on everything but him, desperate to keep your infatuation with him a secret. 

Tyler has become restless when it comes to you, ever since he’s met you he has been overly flirtatious and yet you seem immune to his advances. While on the road he figured he would finally have his opportunity to make a move on you, but you’re still not budging. 

As you sit in the backseat of his truck his eyes are constantly shifting from you and the road, Boone shoots him a knowing grin. His shoulder brushes Tyler as he warns him to keep his eyes on the road. 

Tyler glances at you one more time, taking in your beauty before returning his eyes to the road, gripping the steering wheel tighter and giving a quick side eye to Boone.

He was a fairly impatient guy and the fact that a beautiful girl was sitting in the seat behind him and he hadn’t gotten her to look at him twice is beginning to frustrate him. You flip through the pictures you took earlier, gaze trained on the camera, oblivious to his gaze. 

“Hey,” Boone waves his hand in front of your face, catching your attention. 

“Yeah? What's up?” you look up at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. Tyler’s body tenses when he hears you speak. A simple and basic sentence but it sounds absolutely angelic coming from you. His eyes glanced up into the rear view mirror, watching your soft smile.

He didn’t know why he cared so much about getting your attention but he did. He just wanted to hear you speak again, the sound of your voice already making his heart beat a little faster.

“Wanna trade seats with me?” he smirks in Tylers direction. “You can get a better view of the sky up front.” you nod in response, a soft tinge of pink painting your cheeks at the thought of sitting next to Tyler. 

Tyler’s ears perked up at Boone’s words. He couldn’t help but smile a little at the thought of having you sitting right next to him. He could already imagine the look on your face as you gushed over the beauty of a fresh storm in the distance.

“Good idea.” He replied, his eyes once again locking with Boone’s in the mirror. He could tell his friend was up to something but at the moment Tyler couldn’t care less. He pulls over at the gas station so he can get more fuel and so you can switch seats. 

You settle down in the passenger seat as Tyler fills up his tank, camera equipment set on the floor next to your feet. “Boone?” you glance back at your brother. “Are you up to something?” 

Boone turns to look at you from the backseat, a smirk plastered on his face. “Me? Up to something?” He chuckled and ran a hand through his messy brown hair, knowing full well what he was doing.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He teased. He leaned back in his seat again, pretending to be engrossed in his phone.

You chew on your bottom lip, silently cursing yourself for the drunk confession where you told him how you felt about his best friend. Your crush on Tyler has kept you more reserved and silent this whole trip because everytime he talks to you it sends a shiver down your spine. 

Tyler hops back in the driver's seat, starting the ignition. Tyler notices the conflicted look on your face as he buckles his seatbelt. He raises an eyebrow at you, curious about what you were thinking about so intently.

As he starts the engine again, he steals a quick glance at you, his eyes roving over your form. He couldn’t help it, you were just so damn pretty.

“Everything alright?” He asks in a soft tone, trying not to be overly flirty just yet.

“Mhm.” you glance out the window, reaching for your camera to flip through your pictures once again. Tyler’s eyes remain on you as he begins to drive. There’s a brief silence in the car, broken only by the sound of Boone’s music playing softly through the speakers.

Finally, Tyler breaks the silence with a question. “Can I see the pictures you’ve taken so far? I’m curious.”

“You're driving.” you brush him off almost effortlessly, eyes still glued to the device. Tyler bites his tongue, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He couldn’t tell if you were completely ignoring him on purpose or if you were too obsessed with your camera.

“You can just pass it to me, ya’ know doll.” He says, trying to hide the slight annoyance in his tone. You shake your head, setting the camera in your lap, words caught in your throat at the pet name. 

“I.. I can show you later.” you murmur, eyes wandering out the window. His lips curled into a smirk as he saw your reaction to the nickname. He knew he was getting close to his desired goal of unraveling you.

He let out a sigh as you once again dismissed him. “Later, huh?” He glanced over his shoulder to look at Boone, who looked amused by the interaction.

As the day comes to an end, Tyler stops in front of the motel. You both watch as Boone quickly exits the truck, leaving the two of you alone in the cab. Tyler watches as Boone leaves the car, a smirk on his face when he realizes his friend purposely left the two of you alone.

He turns back, eyes locking onto you again. The atmosphere in the car suddenly felt heavy, the silence almost deafening.

“You never showed me those pictures, doll.” His voice was low and a hint of mockery laced his tone.

“Oh, right.” your hands tremble slightly as you lean to him, showing him the camera. “I got a few good shots..” He leaned in closer as you held the camera up for him to see. A flicker of excitement shone in his eyes as he looked through the pictures sending a rush of desire down your spine.

“These are pretty good.” He said, and he was being honest. Not that he knew much about photography, but the photos looked great to him. 

His eyes flicker down to your lips for a second, watching you take your full bottom lip between your teeth in a manner that’s more tempting than you realize.

He tears his gaze away from your lips and back to the camera, making it very apparent that he was trying to stay focused on the pictures.

As he continues to try to flirt with you, you feel your heart sinking into your stomach. It feels like he’s unknowingly teasing you, leaning into your fantasy of him wanting you the way you want him. 

“You’re..” you trail off, eyes falling to your lap. “Tyler stop messing with me please, you’re starting to hurt my feelings” you *knew* he was just being friendly but he was giving you false hope. His frown deepens as you say that and his eyes widen in surprise. 

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. You really thought that he was just messing around with you, that he didn’t have actual feelings for you.

“Dammit woman, can’t you see how much I want you?” his hand cups your cheek, bringing your face to his. 

He moves your face gently, using his thumb to tilt you up towards him. He can’t help but notice how soft your skin is under his touch and he almost sighs at just how right you feel in his hands.

His voice comes out as a gentle whisper, his eyes searching your face. “What do I have to do to make you understand?” You notice the desperation in his eyes, finally realizing that he's *always* been trying to flirt with you.

“Oh,” you practically gasp out the word, reaching out to pull him to you by the collar of his shirt, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. 

He nearly groans at the sensation of your lips against his. The feeling he had been so desperate for was finally becoming a reality. He responds to your gentle kiss immediately, his hands finding their way to your hips and pulling you so you’re almost in his lap. 

His lips move hungrily against yours, needing you to understand just how truly desperate he was for you. He deepens the kiss, wanting to taste more of you. He feels like a starving man trying to get as much as he can. You move to straddle his hips, hands going to his shoulders as you settle on him. 

He groans at your change in position, his hands immediately moving to your hips to keep you in place. He had to bite back another moan as you settled down onto his lap, the feeling of you being so close to him was almost too much to handle, his hips shifting up against yours.

“Doll..” He pants out against your lips. “Finally starting to understand now?” you nod, leaning in for another kiss intoxicated by his taste. He eagerly returns it, his tongue running against your bottom lip, searching for entrance. 

He wanted more, needed more.

He pulled you tighter against him, his hands gripping your hips almost possessively. He could feel himself growing hard with you sitting on his lap, he had to force himself not to moan at the feeling.

He nipped your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth as he spoke. “You have no idea how much I’ve dreamed of this.” you moan, hands sliding down his chest as you look at him dazed. 

He lets out a low, guttural growl at the sound of your moan, the noise was like music to his ears. Hearing you make those sounds for him was the best thing he had ever experienced.

He couldn’t get enough of you.

He leaned forward, attaching his lips to the soft skin of your neck, sucking and biting gently. He wanted to leave his mark, wanted anyone to know that you were his. You moan again at the feeling of him leaving soft hickeys on your neck, head leaning back to give him better access. 

“Tyler,” you whine his name, hips moving against his in desperation to feel more of him. He growls again, the sound low and guttural as he feels your hips grinding down against him. It was all too much.

His hands move from your hips to your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh between his fingers. He can’t help it as his hips roll up, desperate to feel you against him.

His teeth graze over your neck, leaving a trail of dark marks as he sucks gently. “Doll.. you’re torturing me.” His voice is a low, desperate moan against your neck. Your hands move to his belt, pulling it away, working to free him from his jeans. 

“Ty, I want you..” your eyes are darkened with desire as you kiss his lips hungrily. 

He nearly moans at the feeling of your fingers on his belt. Hearing you call him ‘Ty’ in that desperate tone was driving him crazy.

He can’t help himself as his fingers dig into the soft skin of your thighs, his grip almost bruising. He knew he was going to leave marks but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Say it again..” His voice is a low rumble against your lips, hips moving to press up against you. He was coming undone under your desperate touch. 

“Ty, please..” You slip out of your panties, your skirt bunched up at your hips as you pull his jeans down. He moans again at the sound of you begging in that desperate, needy tone that he loves. 

He could barely focus through the fog of lust and desire as he watched you move. “God-“ His hips bucked up involuntarily against you as he groaned out your name, “-you need to stop doing this to me.”

You slide his erection out of his boxers, thumb sliding over his tip, spreading his precum around. ”What am I doing?” you feign innocence, loving the way he's just as desperate as you are. He could barely speak, your soft thumb against him had him writhing in pleasure. The feeling of you wrapped around him was almost too much.

He groans out a curse as his hips buck upwards once again. “You know exactly what you’re doing..” He manages to say in a strained tone, “Don’t act all innocent.” he groans. 

Tyler’s eyes flutter shut at the exquisite sensation of your hand wrapping around him, his breath hitching as you stroke him with a gentle, teasing touch. “Fuck, doll...” he murmurs against your ear, his voice thick with need. 

His hands tighten on your thighs, urging you closer as he feels the warmth of your body surrounding him. The way you touch him is like a sweet torment, each stroke sending jolts of pleasure through his veins. His hips buck up into your soft hand, his body begging for more. 

With a groan of pure desire, Tyler’s hands guide your hips to his, aligning himself with your slick entrance. His eyes lock onto yours, the intensity of the moment setting every nerve in his body alight. 

Slowly, oh so slowly, he lowers you onto his throbbing length, watching with rapt attention as your eyes widen and your mouth falls open in a silent gasp. The sensation of you taking him in, inch by inch, sends waves of pleasure crashing through him, and he has to fight the urge to slam you down and claim you fully. 

Instead, he lets you set the pace, savoring every moment as your warmth envelopes him. The truck's cabin feels like it's on fire, the air thick with lust as you both hover on the precipice of release. 

Each time you move down, the pressure builds, and he can feel the head of his cock stretching you, filling you up in a way he’s dreamed of for so long. His eyes never leave you, the connection between you palpable as you both begin to rock in a silent symphony of passion, the leather seats of the truck creaking in rhythm with your muffled moans and his labored breaths.

With a whimper of need, your head falls to Tyler's shoulder, your body trembling with each gentle movement. His fingers dig into your thighs, urging you on as he feels your inner walls tightening around him. Your breath is hot against his neck, silently begging him to take over. 

Tyler understands the unspoken plea, his own need burning like a wildfire within him. He takes control, his hands moving to your hips and guiding you up and down his length with a rhythm that makes you gasp. 

His kisses turn fiercer, his teeth grazing your earlobe as he whispers, "Ride me, doll. Show me how much you want this." Your nails bite into his shoulders as you obey, the pressure building with each stroke. 

The tightness in your stomach coils tighter, your moans growing louder as you chase the release that seems just out of reach. Tyler's grip on you is like steel, his hips meeting yours with a force that speaks of his own desperation. 

He can feel your body tensing, the sweet tremble of your thighs telling him you're close. "Come for me," he groans, his voice a rough command that sends you spiraling over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, making your body convulse as you cry out his name. 

He follows you, his own release hot and powerful, his hips jerking upwards as he empties himself into you. Your bodies come to a rest, hearts pounding in unison, the storm outside forgotten in the intensity of the one you've just weathered together.

As the aftershocks of your shared climax subside, you bury your face into Tyler's neck, gasping for air as the pleasure washes over you in warm, delicious waves. His hands are gentle on your skin, stroking and caressing as he holds you closer, savoring the feeling of your body against his. 

You can feel his heart pounding against your chest, a wild drumbeat echoing the passion that still thrums through your veins. The storm outside seems to have quieted, as if it too has been sated by the electricity that crackled between the two of you. 

Tyler's grip on your hips loosens slightly, but he makes no move to let you go, his arms instead wrapping around your waist to keep you nestled in his embrace. 

His breathing is ragged, matching the erratic rhythm of yours, and you can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck as he whispers, "God, I've wanted this for so long." The admission sends a shiver down your spine, making you realize that maybe, just maybe, this isn't just a fleeting moment of passion. 

Maybe there's something more here, something that could last longer than the brief, fiery lifespan of a tornado. But for now, you're content to simply exist in this moment, wrapped in the arms of the man who has held your heart hostage for far too long.

With a gentle yet firm grip, Tyler pulls you off his lap and sets you back in the passenger seat, his own breathing still ragged from the intensity of the moment. You watch, slightly dazed, as he tucks himself away, your own body still humming with the aftermath of pleasure. 

He turns to you, his eyes dark with desire, and whispers in a gruff voice, "Come back to my room with me?" The question lingers in the air, thick with unspoken promises of more passionate moments to come. 

You nod, your cheeks flushed with excitement and anticipation. Tyler's eyes never leave yours as he opens the door and helps you out, his hand firmly grasping yours. The rain patters against the pavement, mimicking the pounding of your heart as you walk towards the motel room, ready to explore the depths of your desires together.

Once inside the motel room, Tyler's hunger for you only grows stronger. He tugs you into the bathroom, his eyes never leaving yours as he impatiently strips away the layers of clothing separating your skin from his. 

Each article that falls to the floor feels like a barrier shattering, revealing more of your beauty to his eager gaze. When you're both bare, he takes a moment to drink you in, his eyes raking over every inch of your naked body. His hands come up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, and his mouth follows the trail of kisses down your neck to your collarbone. 

You whimper under his touch, your body arching into his as he whispers sweet nothings that feel like poetry against your skin. The heat of his touch is a stark contrast to the coolness of the tiles beneath your feet, but it's a delicious sensation that makes you crave more, he pulls away quickly stripping out of his clothes. 

With the shower now a steamy cocoon of warmth, Tyler guides you inside, the hot spray cascading down your bodies, mingling with the warmth of your shared passion. He kneels before you, his eyes filled with an insatiable hunger that mirrors the way your heart races in your chest. 

His kisses begin at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, sending a fresh wave of shivers through you as he worships every inch of your body. His tongue traces a path upwards, his teeth gently grazing the soft flesh, until he reaches your stomach, where he places feather-light kisses that make you quiver with anticipation. 

He cups your breasts in his hands, his thumbs flicking over your nipples, making them peak and your breath hitch in pleasure. Then, his mouth is back on yours, the water rushing over your entwined forms as he kisses you deeply, his tongue dancing with yours. 

With a gentle yet firm push, he pins you against the tiles, the heat of the water a stark contrast to the coolness of the wall, adding another layer of sensation to the mix. His touch is demanding, his body pressing into yours, leaving no doubt about the depth of his desire. 

With a growl of need, Tyler lifts you off the floor, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His erection presses against you, the intensity of his desire unmistakable as he pins you against the tiles. His mouth claims yours in a searing kiss that leaves you breathless, his tongue delving deep as if he can't get enough of your taste. 

The feeling of his bare skin against yours is electric, sending bolts of pleasure through your body with every touch. Your fingers dig into his hair as you kiss him back with an urgency that matches his own, your legs tightening around his hips, silently begging for more. 

His cock nudges at your entrance, the promise of what's to come making you whimper with anticipation. Tyler's eyes never leave yours as he lowers you, inch by inch, onto his thick length, the sensation of being filled by him once again sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. 

The water streams down your faces, mingling with the sweat of passion as you both gasp and moan, lost in the throes of a desire that seems to have no end. Your movements become more frantic, your hips rolling and grinding against his, the need for release building like a storm ready to break. 

Tyler’s hands grip your ass, guiding your rhythm, his own hips driving into you with a fierce need that makes you feel wanted and cherished in a way you never have before. The sound of the water and your muffled cries fill the small bathroom, a symphony of passion that seems to echo the tempest raging outside.

Tyler's grip on your ass tightens as he lifts you slightly, his hips driving into you with a fervent need to feel you come apart in his arms once more. His movements are powerful and relentless, each thrust hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back in your head and your nails dig into his shoulders. 

The water from the showerhead cascades down your bodies, creating a steamy haze that obscures the rest of the world outside of your entwined forms. His eyes never leave yours, watching the pleasure build in your gaze as your moans grow louder, your breaths coming in shorter gasps. 

He whispers filthy encouragement into your ear, his voice a gruff growl that sends shivers down your spine. You can feel the tension in his body, the strain of his muscles as he holds you up, fucking you with a passion that's as intense as the storms he chases. 

His strokes become faster, deeper, until you're riding the edge of a second orgasm, your body begging for release. And just when you think you can't take it anymore, your walls clench around him, and you scream out his name as you shatter into a million pieces, your climax sending waves of pleasure crashing through you like a tempest. 

Tyler's eyes darken as he feels your contractions around his cock, and with a final, powerful thrust, he follows you over the edge, filling you up with his hot cum, his body shaking with the force of his own release. 

The only sound in the room is the steady patter of rain against the window and the harsh beating of your hearts, a testament to the intensity of the moment that has forever changed the dynamic between you and Boone's best friend.

As your orgasm subsides, Tyler carefully pulls out of you, his eyes filled with a tenderness that takes your breath away. He holds you by the waist, keeping you steady as your legs threaten to give out beneath the weight of the passion that's just overtaken you. 

The water from the showerhead runs in rivulets down your bodies, mixing with the remnants of your shared release. He turns you around, placing you under the warm spray, and begins to wash you, his touches gentle and full of love. 

His soapy hands glide over your skin, washing away the sweat and passion as if he's trying to cleanse you of the barriers that once stood between you. He lingers on your breasts, his thumbs caressing your sensitive nipples with a tender touch that makes you shiver anew. 

His hands travel down your body, over your hips and thighs, his gentle strokes feeling like a declaration of adoration. You lean into him, letting him support your trembling body as he worships you with his hands, his eyes never leaving yours in the steamy embrace of the shower.

It's a moment of pure connection, a silent promise that this isn't just a fleeting affair but the start of something beautifully tumultuous, a gentle, loving rain that nurtures the newfound bond between you. The world outside the motel room seems to melt away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of the water and the heat of your love.

With trembling hands, you turn around to face Tyler, pressing a gentle kiss to his chest, which is heaving with the aftermath of your shared passion. His skin is warm and slick from the shower, his heart thundering beneath your lips. 

As you reach for the soap, your eyes meet his in the steamy haze, and you see the love and adoration reflected in his gaze. He kisses your forehead, a tender gesture that sends a fresh wave of warmth through your body. You begin to wash him too, your hands gliding over his defined muscles. 

Each stroke feels like a declaration of your own desire, a silent promise that you're in this together. His eyes never leave you, his own hands coming up to cup your face, holding you in place as if he's afraid you might disappear. 

The water runs over his body, washing away the soap, but the connection between you remains unbroken, as strong as the storm that brought you together. The intimacy of this moment is more potent than any kiss, more profound than any touch. 

It's a silent confession of feelings that have been simmering just beneath the surface for far too long. And as you stand there, naked and vulnerable in the warm embrace of the shower, you realize that no matter what the future holds, this night has changed everything.

The steam from the shower clings to your bodies as you both step out, the cooler air of the motel room sending a shiver down your spine. Tyler takes a towel, wrapping it around his waist before approaching you, his eyes dark with desire. 

He takes another towel and gently begins to dry your skin, his touch lingering on your curves, as if committing every inch of you to memory. His eyes never stray from yours, and the intensity of his gaze makes your heart race anew. Once you're both sufficiently dried, he takes your hand, leading you out of the bathroom and to the king-sized bed that seems to call out to you both. 

He pulls back the covers with one hand, his eyes never leaving yours, and guides you to straddle him as he lays back, the softness of the mattress giving way beneath his weight. Your legs are on either side of his hips, and you feel his erection pressing against your thigh. 

The warmth of his skin against yours sends a thrill through your body as he runs his hands up and down your thighs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His eyes are locked onto yours, searching for any sign of hesitation, but all he sees is the same fiery need reflected in your gaze. With a soft smile, he pulls you down, his mouth claiming yours in a kiss that's as gentle as it is demanding. 

The passion that burned so fiercely in the shower is now a slow, simmering heat that promises to consume you both as you begin to explore each other once again, the storm outside now a gentle reminder of the tempest you've just ridden together.

With a seductive arch of his eyebrows, Tyler silently begs you to ride him again, his thumbs brushing into your hip bones, urging you to take control. The tender touch sends a shiver of anticipation through your body, making you eager to comply. 

You lean down to kiss him, your breasts pressing against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palms. With a knowing smile, you straddle him once more, feeling his erection nudge against your folds. His eyes never leave yours as you position yourself, the connection between you palpable and intense. 

As you sink down onto him, Tyler's eyes roll back in his head, a low groan escaping his lips. Your bodies meld together as if they were made for this very moment, his thickness filling you completely. The storm outside seems to echo the passion that swells within the confines of the motel room, the thunder a testament to the power of your desire. 

The rain taps a gentle rhythm on the window, setting the pace for your lovemaking as you rock your hips against his, both of you lost in the symphony of pleasure that you've created together. Each movement sends a jolt of electricity through Tyler, his eyes never leaving yours as you set the tempo, grinding down on him with a need that matches his own. 

His hands glide up your body, caressing your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure to your core. Your breath hitches in your throat as his hips rise to meet yours, the friction building into an unbearable crescendo. 

With a gasp, you arch your back, pushing your breasts towards the ceiling as you take Tyler's length fully inside you. Your hips bounce with an increasing tempo, each movement sending a wave of pleasure crashing through your body. Your hair cascades down your back, sticking to your skin with the heat of the room. 

Tyler’s eyes are glued to the sight of you, his jaw clenched as he watches you ride him. He can’t believe this is happening, that you’re finally his, that you want him just as much as he’s always wanted you. His hands glide up your torso, supporting your weight as you move faster and faster, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing in the room. 

His eyes darkened with lust as you lean back, giving him an unobstructed view of your bouncing breasts, the pink tips of your nipples peaked with desire. He can feel himself getting closer to the edge, his body tensing beneath yours. 

But he doesn’t want this to end. He wants to savor every second, every touch, every moan that escapes your lips. So he grips your hips, holding you steady, and thrusts upwards to meet you, pushing deeper, harder, driving you both closer to the precipice of ecstasy.

Your eyes roll back with each of Tyler's deep, powerful thrusts, your moans growing louder and more desperate as his thumb finds that sweet spot between your legs. He circles your clit with a gentle yet insistent pressure, expertly building the tension within you. 

Each touch feels like a spark igniting the flames of your desire, pushing you closer and closer to the brink of release. Your hips rock against his hand, matching the rhythm of his strokes, the friction driving you wild. His eyes never leave yours, watching as the pleasure overtakes you, a smug smile playing on his lips as he feels your walls tighten around him. 

The room is filled with the sounds of your passion, the storm outside seemingly in sync with your shared ecstasy. Tyler's breathing grows ragged, his own orgasm approaching as he feels you getting closer to yours. He whispers your name in a gruff voice, urging you on, his eyes filled with a fiery need that sends shivers down your spine. 

Tyler’s thumb continues to circle your clit, his eyes locked onto yours as he watches the ecstasy build in your expression. Your breath hitches, your body tightening around him, and with a final, powerful thrust, you cum hard, your muscles spasming as waves of pleasure crash through you. 

Your orgasm seems to trigger his own, and with a guttural groan, he fills you up with his warmth, his body stiffening beneath yours. The sound of the rain beating against the window is the only thing that pierces the quiet of the room, the only indication that there’s anything in the world beyond the two of you.

With your body still trembling from the intensity of your climax, you collapse onto Tyler’s chest, your heart racing in time with his. His arms wrap around you, pulling you tight against him as if he’s afraid to let go. 

No one on this team is more of a flirt than Jake Seresin, he’s been all over you since the day he laid eyes on you. It’s not that you don’t enjoy the attention but you know better than to give into him. Although your fight is starting to waver. He might be a flirt, a real player, but damn is he perfect.

He is, to say the least, an attractive sight—and that was what annoyed you the most, his perfect smile, the way he'd smile your way, making your heart skip a beat, his cocky demeanor, and the way he looked in his flight suit. 

The beach football game was in full swing, the sun was shining and the team was split into two. You wore a red bikini top and some shorts, and you stood out from the rest of the men as one of the two women in the group.

Hangman was having a really hard time focusing on the game, his eyes constantly traveling to you. The sight of you in your red bikini top, and shorts, your legs on full display. He constantly found himself getting distracted by your body, especially the way your curves looked in the clothing. He was struggling to keep his cool while playing the game but he still was playing decently, however, he kept sneaking glances at you in your lovely attire.

As you moved to block the pass, you noticed Jake was distracted, very much distracted. His eyes were practically glued to your body, it was obvious that he was struggling to focus on the game, the way your body looked in your outfit was driving him insane, he was finding it hard to resist the urge to just stop playing and just look at you instead.

“Are you distracted Hangman?” you quip with a slight smirk. 

Hangman's eyes snapped up from your body and he quickly regained his composure. "Distracted? Me? Never" he replied with a cocky smile, trying to act unaffected. His eyes still lingered on your body for a moment before he quickly looked away.

“Oh really?” you brush your hand against his hip, “You look like you’re imagining me without my top.” Hangman's breath hitched when you brushed your hand against his hip, a shiver running down his spine at your touch. And as you walk away, giving him a suggestive glance over your shoulder, he couldn't help but let out a low, quiet groan.

"God damn you" he muttered to himself as he watched you walk away, his mind replaying your words over and over, the image of you without your top on now burned in his mind. 

Hangman's eyes were fixated on your chest, watching every move as you jumped up, the way your breasts bounced and the way your body moved. He was trying so hard to focus on the game, to ignore the way you were distracting him, but the more he tried, the more his thoughts became filled with only you.

He shifted uncomfortably in his shorts, feeling them becoming tighter and more restricted as his mind filled with thoughts of you, the way you looked in your bikini top. 

As the game ended and your team won, you turned to look at Jake, only to find him looking incredibly distracted. It was obvious that he had been struggling to focus on the game in the last few minutes, his eyes had been constantly on you, the way you moved, the way you looked in your bikini.

"You okay over there, Hangman?" you ask with a knowing smirk, enjoying the effect you were having on him. Jake's eyes snapped up to meet yours, and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said with a cocky smile, though his voice was slightly strained. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to act nonchalant, but he couldn't help the way his eyes drifted down to your body again, taking in your appearance.

As the team sits on the beach with their beers, enjoying the sunset, you notice Jake stealing glances at you, his eyes wandering to your body every now and then. You smirk to yourself, knowing exactly what he's looking at.

And when you catch his gaze, you pull your hair back, revealing your collarbone to him, a subtle yet deliberate tease. Hangman's eyes widen slightly, his gaze immediately drawn to the exposed skin, his mouth going dry at the sight.

Jake mumbles something about going for a swim, adjusting his shorts as he walks towards the water. You catch a glimpse of the subtle movement, noticing the way he's trying to hide the aching bulge.

As he enters the water, he lets out a sigh of relief, hoping the cool water will help calm his arousal. But looking around, he catches sight of you sitting on the beach. 

You quickly slip out of your shorts, aware that Jake's gaze was fixed on you. You could feel his eyes on you, watching every move you made. The thought of him watching you made you feel a little bit daring.

As you stepped towards the water, you made sure to move slowly, giving him the full view of your body in your bikini, the evening's light emphasizing your curves and making you shimmer.

“Thought I would join you.” As you stepped into the water, a shiver ran down your spine from the coldness, immediately bringing a sense of goosebumps on your skin. But still, you continued to approach him, your eyes full of mischief.

Jake's eyes followed your every step, his gaze tracing the contour of your body, the way your bikini top moved as you adjusted it, his breaths becoming more shallow as you neared him.

“You seem really worked up there, Seresin.” you tease, stopping in front of him. 

Jake took a shuddering breath, trying to keep his cool as he replied with a smirk. "Worked up, honey? Never."

But his response was strained, his voice hoarse as he struggled to maintain his composure with you standing so close. His eyes were raking over your body once more, taking in the sight of you in your bikini.

“So then, you wouldn’t mind if I swam topless?” you raise an eyebrow, watching his reaction. Jake's eyes widened at your suggestion, a mix of surprise and desire flashing across his face. 

He tried to keep his cool but couldn't help the way his mouth went dry at the thought of you with no top on. "I... uh... I'd actually prefer if you did." he managed to say, his voice gruff and his eyes fixated on you, hungry and full of lust.

“Tsk, of course you would.” you turn your back to him, “Then why don't you do the honor and untie me.” Jake swallowed hard, his eyes following you as you turned around, showing him your back and the strap of your bikini top. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, his hands itching to touch you, to feel your skin against his.

"You really don't need to ask twice," he said, his voice low and hoarse. He took a step forward, his hands moving to the strap on your back, his fingers slightly shaking from excitement and anticipation.

He slowly untied the knot, his eyes never leaving your body, his breathing becoming more labored with each passing second. Jake's eyes were transfixed as the strings dangle at your side, his hand moving closer to your bare skin, yearning to touch you, to feel your body against his. 

But he held back, waiting, waiting to see if you would pull it from around your neck, anticipating the moment when he could finally let himself touch you. "God damn.." he breathed out, his eyes raking over your bare back, his hands twitching by his sides, holding onto the last bit of self-control he had.

“You’re holding back a lot better than I anticipated.” you tease, turning to face him. Jake's breath hitched at your touch, the feel of your finger gently pressing under his chin to make him meet your gaze sent a bolt of electricity through him. 

He tried to keep his cool, he really did, but the feeling of your hand on his skin and the sight of your bare chest in front of him was driving him insane. He swallowed hard, his eyes locked on yours, his voice hoarse as he replied "You have no idea how much I'm holding back, darlin'.."

Your hand trails down his chest, fingers tracing his muscles as you move closer. “I don't want you to hold back Jake.” his eyes darkened with desire as you stepped closer, your bodies almost touching.

He took a ragged breath as your words registered in his mind, "You... you don't?" he managed to breathe out, his voice low and gruff, his body tensing under your touch. You shake your head, a small smirk still painted on your lips. You tuck your bikini top in the waistband of your bottoms, making sure not to lose them. 

“I’ve been teasing you for a reason. Don’t you know how impractical it is to play football in a skimpy bikini?” you brush past him, treading further into the water, beckoning for him to come closer. 

"You have been a tease.. a very good one," he said, his voice low and hoarse with lust. He followed you into the water, his steps becoming more eager as you beckoned him closer, his body aching to touch you.

You stop moving once the water covers your chest, turning to face him once again. “And you’ve been very good at keeping your hands to yourself.” 

Jake couldn't take his eyes off you, watching as the water covered your chest, making your skin glisten in the soft lighting. Your words snapped him out of his trance, his hands itching to touch you, to feel your skin under his palms.

He took a step closer, his hands reaching out to touch you, gently tracing your collarbone with his fingers, the contact sending a shiver down his spine. "I've been trying real hard, but you're making it damn near impossible" he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

You shiver at his touch, hands moving to his hips as you grip him softly. “Then stop resisting your urges, Jake.” 

Jake's breath hitched as your hands move to his hips, gripping him softly, the contact sending a bolt of electricity through him. Your words echoed in his mind, the small permission giving him the last push he needed.

"You really want me to stop holding back, darling?" he asked, his voice low and hoarse, his eyes darkened with lust as he looked down at you, his hands beginning to move, tracing the curves of your body.

“I want you to fuck me.” your fingers dig into his skin as you kiss his chest. “Right here, in the water.” you gaze up at him, eyes full of desire. Jake's breath caught in his throat as your words hit him, a sharp intake of air as the desire in your eyes and your kiss on his chest made his body tense with need.

"You... you're killing me, woman.." he breathed out, his hands gripping your hips, pulling your body closer to him. "Right here, huh? In the water?" he asked, his voice rough with lust as he looked down at you.

“Mhm..” you wrap your arms around his neck, your hardened nipples pressing into his warm chest. “Right here, out in the open.” Jake groaned as your arms wrapped around his neck, your body pressed firmly against his, your nipples hardening against his chest. The feeling sent a shiver of desire through him, his control slipping further and further.

He grabbed your hips, holding you tightly against him, his voice low and gruff as he replied, "You're wicked, darlin'..." he captured your lips in a deep, hungry kiss, his body responding to your presence, his need for you growing.

Jake's hands grasped your thighs firmly, gently guiding them to wrap around his waist as the water reached your hips. His strong arms supported your weight effortlessly as he kissed you, his tongue delving into your mouth with a passion that mirrored the heat building in your core. 

His fingers tangled in your hair, gripping the strands as he deepened the kiss, his desire for you unmistakable. The taste of saltwater mingled with the sweetness of your lips, adding a wild, natural flavor to the intensity of the moment. Your legs tightened around him, your body instinctively drawing closer, craving the connection as the cool water enveloped you both. 

The sensation of his bare chest against your skin, the feel of his cock pressing against you, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore were the only things that existed in your world as the kiss grew more urgent, more demanding.

As the kiss grew more heated, Jake's hands slid down to your ass, cupping it firmly as he began to move you both further into the water, the gentle waves now reaching your waist. He knew everyone was around, but the lust in your eyes and the feel of your body against his was too much to resist. 

The water swirled around you, obscuring the lower portions of your bodies as he began to grind up into you, his hardened length pressing against the fabric of your bikini bottoms. You gasped into his mouth as the sensation shot through you, your core already soaked and eager for more. 

The coolness of the ocean water didn't dampen the fire between you; if anything, it made the heat of your bodies stand out even more, a stark contrast to the surrounding elements. The way he held you, the way his body moved against yours, it was like he was claiming you right here and now, and you couldn't get enough of it. 

Your nails dug into his back, urging him closer, the friction between you growing more intense with each passing second. The world around you melted away as your focus narrowed to the two of you, the passion in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.

Jake broke the kiss for a moment, his breaths heavy and eyes filled with a primal hunger. He slid his hands down to the waistband of his swim trunks and with a quick motion, slipped them down, his erection springing free and poking into your clothed pussy. He groaned at the sensation, the fabric of your bikini bottom the only barrier between you two. 

His hand slid between your thighs and with a gentle yet firm tug, he slid the fabric aside, exposing your bare pussy to the cool ocean water and his eager length. He leaned back in, capturing your mouth in another fiery kiss as he positioned himself, the tip of his erection nudging at your entrance. 

You moaned into his mouth, the anticipation building, your legs tightening around his waist as you silently begged for him to fill you. Jake's hands gripped your ass tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pushed himself closer, the water rushing in to fill the space between your bodies. 

The pressure was unbearable, the need for him to be inside you growing with each pulse of your heart. And with one final, desperate kiss, he thrust into you, the feel of your warmness enveloping him making him groan with pleasure.

With a groan of pure pleasure, Jake began to slowly guide your hips on him, his powerful thighs flexing as he thrust up to meet your movements. Each stroke was measured, deliberate, as he filled you completely, the friction of your bodies moving together in the cool water sending waves of heat through your core. 

His kisses trailed down from your mouth to your neck, along your collarbone, and to the tops of your breasts, leaving a trail of wetness and desire in their wake. His teeth nipped at your sensitive skin, eliciting gasps and soft moans that only served to spur him on. His hands roamed over your bare back, tracing the lines of your spine as he felt your muscles tighten and release with each movement. 

The sound of your moans and the feel of your tight pussy gripping him was driving him wild. He whispered sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how much he wanted you, how much he needed this, as his hips met yours in a steady, passionate rhythm. The water around you grew warmer, churned by your vigorous movements and the heat of your passion. 

Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, your body responding to his touch as if it had been made for this moment. His eyes locked on yours, watching the ecstasy build within you, feeling the tension coil tighter with every gasp for breath. His strokes grew more urgent, his kisses more demanding, as he claimed every inch of you, leaving no part of your body untouched by his desire.

Jake's body tensed as his own release grew imminent, his hips bucking up into yours with a desperation that mirrored the need in your eyes. He could feel your warm breath on his shoulder as you buried your face into his neck, the soft moans escaping your lips music to his ears. Each stroke grew more demanding, his cock sliding in and out of your tight pussy with a slickness that only added to the urgency of the moment. 

The water around you swirled with your movements, the waves lapping at your bodies as the intensity grew. His fingers dug into your ass, holding you in place as he drove into you harder, faster, his own breaths coming in ragged gasps. He knew you were close, could feel the tremors in your legs and the way your nails dug into his skin. His movements grew erratic, his need for release overpowering his control. 

The sound of your moans grew louder, yet not loud enough to reach the shore, your body tightening around him as you reached the peak of pleasure. With one final, deep thrust, Jake let go, his body shuddering as he filled you with his warmth, the feeling of your orgasm milking him dry. 

You clung to him, your breaths mingling as the waves of pleasure washed over both of you, leaving you both gasping for air and weak in the knees. The world around you ceased to exist as you both rode the waves of your climax, lost in the moment of pure, unbridled passion.

His face was buried in your hair, his breath hot on your neck as his chest heaved with exertion. He was silent for a moment, the only sounds the gentle lapping of the waves and the distant chatter of the others on the beach.

Finally, he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his gaze roaming over your face as if he was seeing you for the first time. You cup his cheeks, thumbs brushing his cheekbones. 

He watched as your legs unwrapped from his waist, a pang of emptiness filling him as he felt you move away. Jake wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as his hands roamed over your body, tracing the lines and curves as if to memorize every inch of you. 

You press a soft kiss to his lips, one much less intense than your last few. Jake responded to the softer kiss with equal tenderness, his lips molding gently against yours. The intensity of the moment had subsided, replaced by a quieter, more intimate connection. 

He savored the feel of your mouth on his, the taste of your lips, the way your bodies fit seamlessly together. His hands held you close, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back as he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entry to deepen the connection further.

“Jake,” you murmur his name while pulling back, one hand going to retrieve your bikini top. “Can you tie this back on?” You hand him the small piece of fabric. 

Jake's eyes flutter open as you murmur his name, the sound of your voice sending a shiver down his spine. He watches as you hand him your bikini top, his fingers brushing against yours briefly before he takes it.

"Of course, darlin'" he replies, his voice still hoarse from the previous moments.

He stands in the water, holding the bikini top in his hands, his gaze lingering on your bare chest for a moment longer before he turns his attention to the task at hand. The gentleness of his touch sends a shiver down your back as you lean into his body. 

Jake's fingers move deftly as he ties the bikini top on your back, his hands brushing against your skin as he works. He can feel your body shiver under his touch, the reaction making his heart thump a little faster.

As he finishes tying the final knot, he lets his hands drift to your waist, holding you against him. His chin rests on your shoulder, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. "Done, darlin'"

“Mm, thank you.” You pat his chest as you pull away from him, closing your eyes before you plunge into the cold saltwater. 

As soon as you ducked into the cold water, Jake's hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you back up to him. He pulled you tight against his chest, relishing the feel of your body pressed against his.

"Now, now, darlin'," he drawled, his voice dripping with charm. "We're not done just yet."

As the headlights of Javi's pickup truck flickered across the neon sign of the "Easy Sleep Motel," the anticipation of finally seeing Scott again filled the air. 

For the past few weeks, you had been chasing storms together in the heart of Tornado Alley, forming a bond that went beyond the thrill of the hunt. Scott had become more than just a colleague; his piercing blue eyes and strong jawline had sparked a flame of attraction in you that you hadn't been able to ignore. 

He knew about your crush, and while he remained professional, there was an undeniable tension that danced between you like the lightning in the tempestuous skies you both loved so much. Tonight was no different, as you pulled into the motel parking lot, exhausted but exhilarated from another successful day of navigating through the volatile dance of nature's fury. 

The lot was a chaotic symphony of chatter and diesel engines, with teams from all over the country sharing tales of the day's conquests and preparing for the night's rest before the next round of adrenaline-fueled chases. Javi turned to you with a knowing grin, "Looks like we're the last ones in again," he said, cutting the engine. "Ready to face the music?" 

You nodded, your heart racing with excitement, unsure if it was the thought of seeing Scott or the impending storms that lay ahead. The cool evening breeze whispered through the open window, carrying with it the faint scent of rain and the promise of a new adventure waiting just beyond the horizon.

Scott had been waiting patiently in the motel lobby, leaning against the counter and shooting the breeze with the front desk clerk, a young girl with a warm smile and a hint of mischief in her eyes. He had been watching the parking lot, anticipating your arrival, his gaze drawn to the approaching headlights of your truck.

As you and Javi entered the lobby, Scott pushed away from the counter, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. His eyes flicked over you, taking in your wind-swept hair and the flush on your cheeks. “Finally decided to join us, huh?”

You brush away the strands of hair that are stuck to your sweaty skin. Sighing as you lean on to Javi’s shoulder, exhausted from the chase. 

“Yeah, had to stop to get some food.” Javi smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

Scott's eyes flicker to Javi's arm around your waist, a hint of irritation in his gaze. He knows there's nothing more than friendship between you and Javi, but the sight of him touching you in such an intimate way stirs a mix of frustration and possessiveness within him.

He leans against the counter again, folding his arms across his chest. “Good thing you remembered to eat. Wouldn’t want you passing out on the road.” His tone is nonchalant, but there's a hint of an edge to it.

“Guys, I’m gonna head upstairs..” you yawn, grabbing your bag from Javi’s hand. As you bid Javi goodnight and start to head towards your room, Scott feigns indifference, pretending to gather his own things. He watches you from the corner of his eye as you make your way down the narrow hall. 

After a few moments, he follows at a safe distance, his footsteps light and his eyes fixed on your back. He waits until you reach your room and unlock the door before he approaches, clearing his throat.

“Oh, Scott.” Your eyes light up as you catch his gaze, a small smile planted on your lips. 

Scott's heart skips a beat as he sees the smile on your face. He tries to play it cool, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the wall next to your door.

"Hey." He says simply, his blue eyes searching your face. "Got a minute?"

“Mhm, come on in.” You open the door for him, going inside and taking a seat on your bed.

Scott follows you into the room, shutting the door softly behind him. He takes a moment to take in his surroundings, his gaze lingering on the way the dim light casts shadows across your features. 

He sits down on the edge of the bed, his knee brushing against your leg. "So, uh, I wanted to talk to you about something."

“Yeah?” You turn to face him, “What’s up?” Your heart skips a beat as you gaze at his face. 

Scott swallows, his throat suddenly feeling dry. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, trying to compose himself.

"Well, it's just... I've been thinking... about us..." He trails off, his gaze flickering down to where his knee touches yours.

You press your palm to his thigh, shifting closer to him. “Us? What about us?” Your voice is soft and full of vulnerability. 

As your hand brushes against his thigh, Scott's breath hitches in his throat. It's a simple touch, but it sends sparks dancing across his skin.

He turns to look at you, his eyes filled with an intense mix of desire and uncertainty. "I just... Can I be honest with you?"

“Yes, of course.” You murmur. Scott takes a deep breath, his gaze never straying from yours. 

"I've been fighting this for a long time, but I can't deny it anymore. I'm attracted to you. I feel something when I'm around you that I've never felt with anyone else."

He reaches out, his fingers lightly grazing your cheek, the pads of his fingertips tracing the curve of your jawline. "It's driving me crazy."

You smile sweetly as you lean it for a soft kiss. Scott's eyes widen in surprise as you lean in, but he quickly melts into the kiss, his hand moving to cup the back of your head.

His lips are warm against yours, his body tense as he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. He kisses you deeply, his tongue darting to meet yours, a soft moan escaping his throat.

Scott grips your shorts as he tugs them down your legs, revealing the damp fabric of your underwear clinging to your skin. His eyes rake over you hungrily, drinking in the sight of your bare flesh. You shiver in anticipation, your body responding to his touch as if it had been waiting for this moment all along. 

He kisses you again, his hand slipping beneath the elastic waistband, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You gasp into his mouth, your hips arching towards him as he explores higher. The tension between you snaps like a tightly coiled spring, and you find yourself desperately wanting more. 

He seems to understand, his kisses growing more urgent as he helps you out of the rest of your clothes, leaving you exposed and trembling before him. The room feels electric with the storm of emotions brewing inside you, the anticipation of what's to come as potent as the scent of rain in the air outside.

Scott's hands continue to roam over your body, his calloused fingers leaving a trail of fire as he pulls away the last barriers between you. He stands, quickly stripping off his own shirt and pants, his eyes never leaving yours. You watch, your breath hitching, as he reveals the powerful muscles of his chest and the defined lines of his abs, his desire for you evident in the bulge of his boxers. 

With a sense of urgency, he hooks his thumbs under the waistband and slides them down, freeing his erection. It stands proudly between his legs, a testament to his need for you. He moves closer, his bare skin pressing against yours, and you can feel the heat of his arousal as it brushes against your stomach. 

Your own need is palpable, your body aching for the connection you've both been craving. He kisses you again, his tongue delving deep, as he gently guides you back onto the bed, his weight pressing you into the soft mattress. 

With a groan, Scott positions himself between your legs, his hand guiding his erection to your entrance. He teases you, the tip of his cock barely brushing against your wetness, making you squirm and beg for more. 

He smiles, a predatory glint in his eye, before he finally pushes in, inch by inch, filling you up. The sensation is overwhelming, a perfect blend of pain and pleasure that makes you dig your nails into his back. He pauses for a moment, giving you time to adjust to his size, before he starts to move. 

His strokes are slow and deliberate at first, each one sending waves of sensation crashing through your body like the thunder outside. He watches your face, memorizing every twitch and gasp as he moves deeper, his eyes dark with desire. As he starts to pick up the pace, the storm inside you matches the one raging outside, lightning strikes of pleasure firing through your veins with every thrust. 

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, your bodies moving in a primal dance as old as the tempests you both chase. The sound of the rain on the motel roof is the only music needed as you two lose yourselves in the intensity of the moment.

As your bodies reach their crescendo, the storm outside mirrors the tumultuous passion within the motel room. Your cries of ecstasy meld with the roar of the thunder, and Scott's deep, guttural groans echo through the air as he releases himself inside you. 

The force of your shared climax sends tremors through your limbs, leaving you both panting and gasping for breath. He pulls out slowly, his gaze locked on yours, the connection between you still burning bright. He then collapses beside you, his muscular form sprawling out on the bed, one hand resting on your hip. 

The rain taps a soothing rhythm against the window as you both lay there, entwined in the aftermath of your first intimate encounter. The room is thick with the scent of sweat and sex, a testament to the raw power of your union. 

Scott's eyes never leave yours, a mix of satisfaction and something deeper, something that makes your heart flutter in your chest. You curl into him, your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as the storm outside begins to dissipate. 

As you wake up the next morning, the room bathed in the soft morning sunlight, you reach out to the empty space beside you, the sheets still warm from where Scott had been lying. 

You sit up, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind, and a pang of disappointment washes over you as you realize he's gone. His clothes are nowhere to be found, the only evidence of his presence being the lingering scent of his cologne on the pillow and the imprint of his body on the mattress.

As you hastily pull your clothes on, the weight of Scott's absence settles heavily on your chest. The room suddenly feels too small, claustrophobic even, and the air seems to thicken around you. 

You can't believe he left without a word, without a note, without any explanation for his actions. Tears threaten to fall, and the lump in your throat feels like it's about to choke you.

You hear a knock on the door, quickly pulling yourself together as you gather your things. When you open the door you see Javi with his warm smile and a cup of coffee. 

“Good morning Javi,” you murmur, voice quiet as you take the drink from his hand. 

Javi studies your face, concern etching his features. "Hey, you alright? You look like you've been through the wringer."

He takes in your red-rimmed eyes, the tightness in your shoulders, and the slight shakiness in your hands.

“Mhm,” you let out a strangled sigh as you leave the room, locking the door behind you. 

Javi falls into step beside you as you make your way down the hall. He glances sideways at you, his forehead creased. 

"You sure you want to head out today?" he asks gently. "You look exhausted."

“Yeah, of course.” You give him a forced smile, “I'm great, just a little tired.” Your eyes fall on Scott’s back as he talks to one of the team members. 

Dread fills your veins as you take in the scene in front of you. Javi follows your gaze, noticing the way you react to the sight of Scott. He shifts awkwardly, his eyes flickering between Scott and you.

"Uh, maybe you should-" he starts to say, but you cut him off abruptly.

“Let’s go get breakfast,” you intertwine your fingers with his as you lead him out the door. 

Javi shoots another glance at Scott, a protective look in his eyes as you pull him outside. The sun is already high in the sky, and it's beginning to warm the air.

He doesn't say anything, simply allowing you to lead the way as he keeps pace beside you. He can sense the tension in your body, the way your hand grips his tightly.

You sit in the passenger side of Javi’s truck, sighing as you relax into the seat, eyes fluttering shut. 

Javi can feel the weight of your tiredness in the way you sit next to him, the way your head rests back against the headrest. He watches you from the corner of his eye as he turns the key in the ignition. 

As the truck comes to life, the engine rumbling underneath you, he speaks quietly. "You don't have to put on a brave face for me, you know." 

Your lip quivers as you turn to look out the window. “Javi..” you sigh, tears building in your eyes. 

Javi's heart clenches in his chest as he hears the shake in your voice, the way it trembles as you say his name. He reaches out, his hand finding yours on the console and squeezes it gently.

"Hey," he murmurs, his voice soft and soothing. "You can talk to me. It's okay." 

“It’s Scott..” you take a deep breath, “uh we slept together and he left like nothing happened.” A tear slips from your eye as you bite your cheek, turning to look at him. 

Javi's eyes widen in surprise, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "What? You slept with Scott?"

He glances over at you, taking in the tears in your eyes, the pain etched into your face. His protective nature kicks in, and he pulls the truck off the road.

“I thought,” you purse your lips, “I thought he felt the same way I did, but I guess it was just him trying to get some.” Your tone gets more irritated the more you speak. 

Javi rubs a hand over his face, clearly frustrated with the situation. "That idiot," he mutters under his breath. He knows Scott has feelings for you, something more than just lust, yet he screwed up his chances with you in the span of one night. 

He looks at you, his eyes soft with concern. "Hey, you know Scott's always been a bit... careless when it comes to relationships."

You nod, taking a deep breath and steeling your expression. “I know, I should’ve known better..” Javi brushes away your tears. 

The day dragged on, each moment feeling heavier than the last as you tried to ignore the storm brewing inside you. You focused on the tasks at hand, the mundane activities of packing up your gear and checking weather reports, all while avoiding Scott's piercing gaze. 

He had retreated to his own space, his eyes dark with regret and confusion. You knew you had to keep your distance; the tension was palpable, a stark contrast to the easy camaraderie you once shared.

Javi, ever the perceptive friend, noticed the shift in your demeanor and the cold shoulder you were giving Scott. He tried to keep the peace, cracking jokes and steering conversations away from the unspoken elephant in the room. His attempts to lighten the mood were met with forced laughter, the tension stretching tauter with each passing hour.

“Let’s go to a bar.” You suggest as Javi starts the engine. “There’s one right next to the motel,” 

Javi raises an eyebrow at your suggestion, a small grin playing at the corner of his lips. "You sure that's a good idea?"

He can sense the need to blow off some steam in your voice, and he knows there's no stopping you now that you've made up your mind.

“It’ll be great,” you smile at him as he pulls out into the street. Scott’s vehicle trails behind you along with the rest of the team. Javi lets them know that you’re going to the bar tonight. 

After a short drive, you arrive at the bar next to the motel. It's a small, dive-bar type establishment, with a neon sign out front that flickers in the evening light. 

As you get out of the car, Scott rolls up on your left, parking his vehicle alongside you. He hops out of his car, he saunters over to you and Javi.

You ignore his presence, grabbing Javi’s hand as you lead him to the entrance. Javi doesn't miss the way you purposefully avoid even looking in Scott's direction, but he decides to play along, keeping his focus solely on you. 

When you reach the door, Javi opens it for you, and the two of you step inside. The bar is dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke. A few patrons are already scattered around, some playing pool, others watching the game on the old television set in the corner.

A few drinks in, Javi leaves to get some fresh air, leaving you alone at the table. Scott comes up to you, his face hardened as he takes a seat next to you, you avoid his gaze. 

Scott sits down heavily in the chair next to you, the sound of his weight hitting the hard wood making you flinch slightly. He leans in, close enough that you can smell the alcohol on his breath. 

"We need to talk," he says gruffly, his voice low.

“Why?” You turn away from him, giving him the cold shoulder. 

Scott scowls at you, his eyes narrowing. "Don’t give me that attitude. We need to talk about what happened."

He grabs your arm, trying to turn you back towards him, but you stubbornly resist. Scott's grip tightens, his fingers biting into your flesh.

You move to pull his hand away, “I don’t feel like talking, Scott.” Your eyes are full of unshed tears as you look at him. 

Scott's expression softens slightly when he sees the look in your eyes, a sense of guilt flickering in his own gaze. He loosens his grip on your arm but doesn’t let go. 

"I know I was a dick, okay," he mutters, looking away. "But that doesn’t change the fact that we clearly need to talk."

“Scott, just leave it alone.” You get out of your seat, walking toward the exit. 

Scott clenches his jaw, annoyed by your stubborn refusal to engage with him. He follows after you, reaching out to grab your wrist. 

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" he asks through gritted teeth. 

“Are you fucking drunk? Leave me alone.” You pull out of his grasp, successfully leaving the bar, Scott still hot on your heels. 

Scott catches up to you just as you exit the bar, the cool night air hitting your face. He wraps his strong arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest and holding you in place. 

His voice is softer now, the edges of annoyance faded. "Please, just listen to me."

“Scott,” you gasp his name, shocked by his hold on you. “Please stop, please. I don’t want to hear your excuses.”

Scott tightens his grip, pulling you even closer against him. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling the scent of your perfume. 

"It's not an excuse," he murmurs, his warm breath tickling your ear. "I was scared, okay? Scared of what I was feeling." 

You shiver in response, hands moving to pull his arms away. “Scott..” 

Scott resists your attempts to pull away, holding you firmly against him, arms wrapped around your body like a steel trap. 

"Please," he pleads, his voice low and urgent. "Just listen to me. I messed up, okay? I know I did. But I thought-" He stops, taking a deep breath, his words getting caught in his throat.

“Thought what?” You murmur, still pulling at his arms, trying to wiggle away from him.

Scott lets out a frustrated growl, his grip on you tightening even more as he leans down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck, just below your ear. 

"I thought walking away would make it easier," he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it didn’t. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I left your room this morning."

“You know that’s not fair.” You sigh, stilling your movements as you relax in his arms. 

Scott takes advantage of your pause, pressing his body even closer against you, his muscular frame molding to the curves of your body. 

He nips gently at your neck, a low moan escaping from his throat as he speaks. "I know. I’m an idiot." You gasp at his lips against your skin. 

He runs his hands down your sides, coming to rest on your hips, his fingers gripping the flesh tightly. 

"But I can’t stop thinking about you, about the way your body felt under mine. The way you responded to me, the way you cried out my name-" Scott cuts himself off with another low moan, his breath hot against your skin, the desire in his voice undeniable.

“Scott, I..” you groan, body reacting to his touch. Scott relishes in your response, his hands moving back up to grip your hips, pulling you even closer so that your back is pressed firmly against his chest. 

He kisses your neck, his lips tracing a path up to your earlobe, where he bites down gently. "Say my name again," he husks, his voice gravelly and filled with need.

“Scott, stop it..” you move out of his grasp, head spinning with desire and your stubbornness.

Scott growls at your resistance, and in a quick move, he pins you against the wall of the building, trapping you between the solid brick and his hard body. 

His eyes are darkened with desire, his face mere inches away from yours. "Stop what? Stop touching you? Stop wanting you?" He leans in even closer, his voice a deep, rough whisper. 

“Quit trying to sweet talk me,” you sigh, head leaning against the wall as his lips work against your neck. 

Scott chuckles darkly, his lips curving into a wicked smile as he nips at your skin. "Sweet talk you? I'm not trying to sweet talk you, sweetheart. I'm telling you the truth." 

He moves one of his legs in between yours, effectively trapping you even further. His fingers trail over your skin, leaving a path of fire in their wake.

You push at his chest, “Scott, not here.” He relishes the sight of your eyes, the way they're filled with a mixture of desire and vulnerability, and he can almost feel the fight leaving your body. 

Scott steps back, his chest heaving from the effort it took to resist his own desires. His eyes rake over your body, taking in the way your chest rises and falls with each ragged breath, the way your cheeks are flushed with desire and frustration.

He runs a hand through his tousled hair, his expression apologetic as he meets your gaze. "Please, I need one more chance. I won't screw it up again, I swear."

You lean forward, pressing your forehead against his shoulder. Scott wraps his arms around you once again, pulling you in close. He buries his face in your hair and inhales deeply, relishing in the feeling of having you so close. 

"I won't walk away again," he murmurs, his voice tinged with emotion. "I promise, I'll stay, just give me a chance to prove it to you." You sigh while giving into him. 

“Please don’t leave again..” your arms wrap around his waist loosely. Scott tightens his hold on you, pressing you even closer against him. His heart leaps in his chest at the sound of your voice, the raw vulnerability in your words. 

"Never again," he murmurs, his lips pressing against the top of your head in a tender kiss. "I won't walk away from you. I promise."

You nod against him, body fully relaxing into his. Scott feels the moment you surrender to him, your body softening in his arms, and he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

He cradles you against him, his hands roaming your back in soothing circles. "I’ve got you," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your hair. "I won’t let go."

You lean back, searching his eyes for any deception, seeing none you lean in for a gentle kiss. 

Scott melts under your kiss, his body aching for the taste of your lips. He lets out a soft sigh as he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. 

He holds your body against his, his hands roaming over your back and hips, as if he can’t get enough of touching you.

Scott's eyes never leave yours as he takes your hand, leading you back to the motel. The air is thick with unspoken words and the weight of the unresolved tension between you. As you reach his room, he opens the door, his gaze intense and filled with determination. 

He pulls you inside, the door clicking shut behind you, the final barrier between the tumultuous world and the passion that simmers just beneath the surface of your relationship. His arms wrap around you, pulling you tightly against his chest, his heart beating a staccato rhythm that echoes the thunderstorm in your own chest. 

His lips find yours again, the kiss hungry and desperate, as if trying to devour the regret of the morning. His touch is gentle, yet firm, as he helps you shed the layers of your clothing, revealing the soft, welcoming warmth of your skin. 

This time, there's no rush, no racing heartbeats to the crescendo. It's a slow dance of exploration, a silent promise that this isn't just a fleeting moment of passion but the beginning of something much more profound. Rain patters against the window, serenading your reunion, as Scott lays you on the bed, his body hovering over yours, his gaze never straying from your eyes. 

With a groan, Scott rolls onto his back, pulling you along with him so that you're straddling his hips. His eyes are dark with need as he looks up at you, his hands moving to grip your waist, guiding you into position. You lean over him, your breasts brushing against his chest, the heat of your skin melding together as the storm outside reaches its peak. 

He lifts his hips, his erection pressing against your wetness, and you bite your lip, the anticipation of feeling him fill you again making your stomach clench with desire. With a slow, deliberate move, you lower yourself onto him, sheathing him in your warmth. His eyes never leave yours as you start to move, your hips rising and falling in a rhythm that matches the steady beat of the rain on the window. 

Each stroke sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, the intensity building with every movement. The power dynamic has shifted, and now you're in control, dictating the pace, the depth, the very essence of your connection. Scott's hands roam your body, exploring every curve and crevice. 

His eyes glaze over with passion, his breath coming in ragged gasps as you bring him closer to the edge. You lean down, capturing his lips in a fiery kiss, the sound of the rain a constant backdrop to the symphony of your love-making. His hands tighten on your hips, urging you faster, deeper. 

With a moan that's swallowed by his lips, your hips move faster, riding the wave of pleasure that Scott's skilled touch brings forth. Your eyes are locked on his, the intensity in them making you feel exposed, yet safe at the same time. 

The sound of the rain is the only soundtrack to your passion as you move together, your bodies in perfect harmony. And then it hits you—the orgasm that's been building since the moment his lips first touched yours. It crashes over you like a tidal wave, stealing your breath and making your body convulse. 

You cling to him, nails digging into his skin as you ride out the storm of sensation, your pussy squeezing tightly around his cock. Scott groans beneath you, the feeling of your climax pushing him closer to his own. His eyes never leave yours, the blue depths of them filled with a mix of passion and something more, something that makes your heart race even faster. 

As your tremors begin to subside, you collapse onto him, your breaths mingling in the damp air, the rain outside a gentle lullaby to the aftermath of your love-making. And as you lie there, tangled in each other's arms, you know that you've found something that's just as powerful and unpredictable as the forces of nature you both chase—a love that's as wild and uncontrollable as the very storms themselves.

Scott gently slides out of you, turning you on your side so that you're facing away from him. He wraps his arms around you, his chest to your back, and pulls you close, his hand splaying over your stomach as he presses tender kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck. 

His breath is hot against your ear as he whispers sweet nothings, his voice a comforting rumble that soothes the storm that had been raging inside of you. You sigh contentedly, feeling the tension in your body slowly uncoil as his warmth surrounds you, his heartbeat a steady metronome against your own. His hand moves in slow, lazy circles on your stomach, each caress a silent promise of the passion that still burns within him. 

His erection is still firm against your backside, a testament to his desire, but he's in no rush to take you again. Instead, he holds you tightly, his legs entwined with yours, as if afraid that if he lets go, the moment will be lost forever. His touch is tender, almost reverent, as if he's worshiping every inch of your skin. 

You snuggle closer, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, the weight of his arm across your waist, a reassuring presence that grounds you amidst the chaos of your swirling emotions. The world outside seems so far away, so insignificant compared to the sanctuary you've found in each other's arms. 

And as the last droplets of rain tap against the window, you drift off to sleep, lulled by the steady beat of Scott's heart and the gentle embrace of his arms, feeling more alive and connected than you ever have before.

You jolt awake, anxiety filling you as you notice the bed empty once again. You sit up in the bed, looking around the room with worry, before noticing Scott coming out of the bathroom. 

Scott notices the panicked look on your face as he slips back into bed next to you. "Hey, relax," he says softly, his hand coming to rest on your back, rubbing gently in small circles. He pulls you in close against him, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you snugly against his chest. "I’m right here. I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart."

You press your cheek to his chest as you cuddle closer, “You scared me…” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut as you bask in his body heat. 

The engine of the battered pickup truck rumbled, a steady rhythm that matched the thump of your heart in your chest. Raindrops danced across the windshield, each a brief sparkle before the wipers swept them away. Tyler Owens, your best friend and the internet's favorite Tornado Wrangler, gripped the steering wheel, his eyes glued to the road ahead. The headlights carved a tunnel of light through the dark, storm-soaked night. His profile, silhouetted against the dashboard's glow, was as familiar to you as the back of your own hand.

In the backseat, Boone and Lily were lost in their own world, their voices a low murmur of excitement recounting the day's chase. The electricity of the storms had carried over into their banter, their laughter echoing off the plastic interior. You couldn't help but smile at their boundless energy. They were the yin to your yang, the thrill-seekers to your analytical mind.

The truck's tires crunched over gravel as Tyler steered into the motel parking lot. The neon sign flickered above, casting an eerie glow over the puddles that had formed in the dips of the asphalt. Raindrops tapped a staccato beat on the metal roof as the wind picked up. The motel looked like a tired old warrior that had seen too many battles, but it was home for the night. Tyler put the truck in park and turned off the engine, the sudden silence punctuated only by the distant rumble of thunder.

You grabbed your backpack and climbed out, stretching your legs. Your knees popped from the hours spent in the cramped space. Boone and Lily followed, their excitement not dampened by the rain. You all dashed towards the office, the cold air biting at your skin. Inside, the warmth and the smell of stale coffee greeted you. The clerk, a woman with a beehive hairdo, squinted at you over her glasses. She looked like she'd been there since the dawn of time, her expression a mix of boredom and skepticism.

While Tyler checked in, you pulled out your phone, the screen lighting up your face in the dimly lit room. A flurry of notifications fluttered down, a mix of weather updates and messages from your friends and family worrying about your safety. You quickly typed out a reassuring reply to your mom, promising to stay safe and out of the storm's path, despite the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. You felt a pang of guilt for not calling her sooner.

As Tyler approached, a single key dangled from his calloused fingers, catching the light. Your eyes met his, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged. The tension in your relationship was as palpable as the storm outside. He smirked, the corner of his mouth tugging upward, and you couldn't help but feel a jolt of attraction.

"Looks like we're bunking together," he said, his voice low and gruff. "They only had one room left." Tyler's smirk widened as he saw the mixture of emotions flash across your face.

The close quarters of a motel room for the night were bound to create a test of boundaries and emotions. "Don't worry," he added, a hint of genuine reassurance in his voice, "I can always sleep on the floor if you're uncomfortable." Although the offer was sincere, a part of him hoped you'd say no.

“Are you sure you won't mind sleeping on the floor?” you were secretly grateful that he suggested it, knowing you wouldn't be able to sleep if he was in the same bed as you. You walk toward the stairs, heading to the room with Tyler hot on your heels.

Tyler chuckled under his breath at your concern. Of course, he didn't want to sleep on the floor, but he could tell you were relieved by the offer. The thought of spending the night so close to you made his heart race, but he'd never admit it.

"Nah, it's no big deal," he replied, trying to sound nonchalant, masking the disappointment as he followed you up the creaking stairs. "I've slept in worse places."

The motel room was small and cramped. The only source of light came from a single, flickering bulb in the ceiling, casting a dim glow across the room. You jump onto the bed, immediately relaxing into the mattress with a sigh.

“Thank you.” you murmur, voice muffled by the bedding. Tyler chuckled again at the sight of you on the bed, your body sinking into the cheap motel mattress. He leaned his tall frame against the closed door, watching you with a mixture of amusement and something deeper.

"No problem." He said, his voice betraying a hint of fondness beneath his typical gruff exterior. "You deserve a comfortable night's sleep after dealing with me and those storms all day."

“Dealing with you is easy,” you turn over on the mattress, stretching out your limbs with a soft moan.

Tyler's eyes traced your form as you shifted on the bed, the soft moan escaping your lips sending a jolt of electricity through him. He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the effect your casual movement had on him.

"Easy, huh," he teased, his voice slightly strained. "That's good to hear. Sometimes I think I drive you crazy."

“Nah, not at all.” you sit up, grinning at him. “Don’t tell anyone else but you’re my favorite.” you slip out of your shoes.

Tyler's heart skipped a beat at your words, his rugged exterior faltering momentarily. He quickly regained his composure, a smirk spreading across his handsome face as he crossed his arms across his broad chest.

"Oh, am I your favorite, huh? Sounds like I've grown on you." He teased, leaning a shoulder against the wall, the soft glow from the light highlighting the sharp line of his jaw.

You giggle in response, “Close your eyes, I need to change.” you reach for your bag, pulling a t-shirt out. He groans in protest, but closes them nonetheless. You pull at your wet clothes, slipping out of your shirt and pants.

Tyler's breath hitches in his throat as he peeks through his half-closed eyelid, his gaze raking over your bare back. The air in the room suddenly feels thicker, charged with an undertone of want he can't quite ignore.

He quickly snaps his eyes shut, his heart hammering in his chest. He tries to ignore the images now seared in his mind, the way your skin had appeared in the dim light, the faint curve of your silhouette. You slip your t-shirt on, covering up your damp skin.

“Okay, you're good to open your eyes.” you smile warmly. “We should get your floor bed set up before it gets too much later..” you yawn softly, sitting on the edge of the bed, legs still bare.

Tyler opens his eyes, the sight of your bare legs sending another jolt through him. He quickly looks away, trying to regain his composure and focus on the task at hand. "Right," he says, his voice gruff. "Let's get that floor set up."

He grabs an extra blanket from the closet, shaking it out as he walks over to the floor next to the bed. He lays it down, his movements slightly stiff and awkwardly, his mind still occupied with the images of your naked back.

You help him put things together, placing the towels on the floor for some padding and placing a pillow down for him. “You’re sure you don't want me to sleep on the floor?”

Tyler waves away your concern, his usual rough demeanor slipping back into place. "No, it's fine," he reassures you, a hint of stubbornness in his voice. "You take the bed. I've slept in worse places."

He sits down on the makeshift bed, testing the thickness with a hand before laying down and folding his arms behind his head. You turn the light off and slip under the covers, “Okay, Goodnight Ty.” you murmur, voice soft as you cuddle into the sheets.

Tyler watches as you settle into the bed, the dim light casting shadows across your face. He swallows hard, the urge to reach out and touch you almost overwhelming.

"Good night," he replies gruffly, his voice thick. "Get some sleep."

He shifts on the floor, the makeshift bed feeling even more uncomfortable now that you're so close yet so far. He turns over, facing away from you, the silence in the room deafening.

Almost 30 minutes have gone by with you restless and shivering with the coldness of the room. You toss and turn in the bed, mind focused on Tyler laying on the floor, you sigh while biting down on your lip. You move to the edge of the mattress, looking down at his body.

“Tyler?” you whisper his name, reaching down to touch his arm gently. “Are you still awake?” Tyler jolts slightly at the feel of your touch, his senses on high alert. He'd been trying to sleep, his mind stubbornly refusing to quiet down, especially with you in such close proximity.

He turns over, his gaze meeting yours in the dark. The shadows of his face are sharp and defined, his eyes reflecting the scant light. "Yeah," he replies quietly, his voice gruff. "I'm awake. What's wrong?"

“I can't sleep…” you mutter, “I’m too cold...” Tyler's expression softens at your words, his gruff exterior melting away. He can hear the note of vulnerability in your voice, the quiet admission of discomfort sending a pang through his chest.

"You’re cold?" he asks unnecessarily, already knowing the answer. He hesitates for a moment, his mind battling with his body’s need to be close to you. He sits up with a sigh, pushing the blanket off him. "Move over."

You scoot over, giving him space on the bed. Tyler stands and crawls into the bed next to you, the mattress shifting under his weight. The small bed suddenly feels even tinier with his large frame next to you. He lies on his back, keeping a small gap between the two of you.

"You're always so damn cold," he mutters, wrapping an arm behind his head. "You gonna be able to sleep now?" you move to his side, cuddling into his body as you rest your cheek on his chest.

“Mhm,” your legs press into his as you exhale contentedly. Tyler's eyes snap open as you cuddle into his side, your soft body molding against him. A rush of sensations wash over him, the feeling of your skin against his, the weight of your head on his chest. He stiffens slightly as you press your legs into his, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through him.

He tries to steady his breathing, trying to ignore the way his heart is racing. He clears his throat, the sound harsh in the quiet of the room. "You're... comfortable like this?" he asks, his voice slightly strained.

“Are you not?” you pull away slightly, looking up at him with widened eyes. Tyler's heart clenches at your question, the sight of your wide, concerned eyes looking up at him sending a pang through his chest.

"No," he replies gruffly, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. "I'm not uncomfortable...just..." He pauses, trying to find the words. The truth is, he's struggling to cope with the onslaught of emotions swirling inside him.

The feel of your body against him, your soft scent swirling around him...it's too much, and yet it's not enough. "Don't move.." you cuddle back into his side, breasts pressing into him as your hand rests on his abdomen.

Tyler's breath hitches in his throat as you press into him, the feel of your body against his, sending his mind reeling. He curses internally, his body reacting against his will, the heat in his gut flaring hotter.

He tries to concentrate on breathing, to not give in to the desire coursing through him. "Just... stay like this for a while..."

Tyler watches as you fall asleep, a mixture of relief and disappointment washing over him. He had been fighting the entire time to keep his feelings under control, his body yearning for you in a way he hadn't felt before.

Tyler's eyes are fixed on the ceiling, the silence of the room broken only by your soft breathing. He's hyper-aware of every movement you make, his senses on high alert.

As you shift away from him, turning onto your side, his body instinctively follows, moving closer to yours. Without thinking, his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you back against his body. You unconsciously press back against him, your ass rubbing against his crotch as you cuddle into his warm grasp.

Tyler clenches his jaw, his breath catching in his throat as you press back against him, your firm backside grinding into his groin. Unbidden, images flood his mind, his body reacting eagerly to the contact.

"Jesus," he mutters, his voice gruff and strained. "You're driving me insane..."

He clenches his fist, the feel of your body against his making his mind spin. He tries to shift away, to give himself some distance, but your warmth is drawing him in, making it impossible to think straight.

His words startle you awake, along with the hardness pressing into your body. Your eyes widen as you realize the position the two of you are in, breathing quickening.

Tyler immediately curses himself as he feels you stir in his arms, realizing he had spoken aloud. He can feel your body stiffen against him, the change in your breathing sending a mixture of desire and panic through him.

He quickly pulls away, disentangling himself from you as best he can. He sits up on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Sorry..." he mutters gruffly, his voice thick with tension. "Didn't mean to wake you.." you turn over looking at his bare back. You feel warmness pooling in your stomach as your eyes flick over his twitching muscles.

You reach out, brushing your fingertips over his spine. “Ty?” Tyler's body tenses as he feels your fingertips brushing against his spine. A shiver runs through him at the contact, his body responding eagerly despite his turmoil.

He's hyper-aware of your presence behind him, your touch sending a jolt through his body. The heat radiating off his skin is almost palpable.

"Yeah?" he replies gruffly, his voice hoarse. His shoulders are taut, muscles bunching under your touch.

You sit up, resting on your knees as you come up behind him, arms wrapping around his waist. “Where are you going?” you murmur, cheek pressing into his shoulder.

Tyler's breath catches in his throat as you wrap your arms around his waist, your body pressing into his back. The feel of your skin against his, the gentle warmth of your cheek against his shoulder...it's all he can do not to turn and pull you into his lap.

Tyler's breath hitches as you wrap your arms around his waist, the feel of your body pressed against his back sending a shot of heat straight through him. He's painfully aware of your closeness, your scent filling his senses, your skin warm against his.

He stiffens instinctively, his body struggling to reconcile the overwhelming desire with the need to keep control. "Nowhere," he mutters gruffly, his voice low. "Just need a minute..."

“A minute?” you run a hand down his abs, fingertips brushing over his muscles. “Should I give you some space?” you murmur.

Tyler's breath hitches again, your touch leaving a trail of fire on his skin. He clenches his jaw, every nerve ending in his body screaming for more of your touch.

But he knows he needs to maintain control. He can't give in to the raw desire coursing through him. "Probably.." he manages through gritted teeth, his voice strained. "Need to cool off.."

You reluctantly pull away, laying back on the bed with your back to him once again. Disappointment written on your face as you hug a pillow, cuddling into the sheets.

He turns, watching as you hug a pillow, cuddling into the mattress. He fights the impulse to reach out, to pull you back into his arms. Instead, he clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white.

"Hey..." he murmurs gruffly, his voice softer than before. He reaches out a hand, gently placing it on your shoulder. "Don't... don’t take it the wrong way, okay? It's not you. It's... me."

“It’s okay..” you slip out of bed, heading toward the bathroom. Closing the door you sink down against it, silently cursing yourself for what happened.

Tyler watches as you head into the bathroom, the door closing with a soft click. He exhales deeply, scrubbing a hand over his face in frustration. He can’t stand the thought of you closing yourself off from him, the sight of you pulling away feeling like a punch to the gut.

He stands and walks over to the door, gently knocking on it. “Hey... can I come in?” you stay silent, resting your chin on your knees as you move away from the door. Incase he tries to open it.

Tyler hears your silence, the lack of response causing his heart to sink further. He takes a deep breath, his knuckles rapping on the door again.

"C'mon... you're freakin' me out here," he tries to joke, his voice strained. "I just need to see you, to talk to you. Just for a minute. Please..."

“The door is unlocked…” you murmur, voice nearly a whisper.

Tyler's heart skips a beat as he hears your soft voice, the sound like music to his ears despite the circumstances. He slowly turns the handle, pushing open the door. He steps into the bathroom, his gaze immediately falling on your form huddled on the floor. He drops down beside you, keeping a small space between you.

“There you are,” he says quietly, relief flooding through him at the sight of you. You bite your lip, staying curled up seeking comfort in your own body.

“Can..” you begin, voice cracking. “Can we just pretend nothing happened?” You keep your gaze trained on the floor.

Tyler's stomach drops at the sound of your cracked voice, the words sending a pang through him. He knew you were upset, but he hadn't expected your request.

He reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "No," he murmurs, his voice firm yet gentle. "I don't want to pretend, not about this. Not with you."

“Tyler..” you murmur, grabbing his wrist gently as you pull his hand away from you. Tyler's hand tingles at the feel of your hand grasping his wrist, the touch sending a jolt through him. Despite your distance, he can't help but crave your touch.

He clenches his jaw, struggling to keep his emotions in check. "No, listen to me," he says firmly, his eyes glued to yours. "We're not just gonna gloss over this like it's nothing. Not after what happened."

“But nothing happened.” you protest, avoiding his gaze. Tyler's frustration flares at your protest, his eyes narrowing.

"Nothing happened?" he echoes, his voice tinged with disbelief. "You're kidding me, right? You were in my arms, pressed against me, and nothing happened?" He huffs in frustration, raking a hand through his hair. "Dammit, you’re pissing me off. Stop acting like this doesn't mean something."

“But *you* don’t want it.” you murmur, turning your back to him once again. Tyler's anger immediately extinguishes at your murmured words, guilt seizing him like a vice.

He reaches out, grabbing your shoulder to turn you back towards him, his grip gentle but firm. "I never said that," he refutes, his tone sharp. "I *do* want you. You have no idea how badly I want you…"

“But you,” you sigh, turning to face him. “Then why did you want me to give you space? I thought..” your eyebrows furrow as you trail off.

"Because, I'm trying to keep my head straight,” he begins, his voice strained. “You drive me crazy, you know that? The way you feel in my arms, your scent, your skin against mine... It's like I'm losing control when I'm near you." you look up at him, eyes vulnerable as you chew on your bottom lip.

Tyler's heart clenches as he looks into your vulnerable eyes, the sight sending a wave of protectiveness through him. He gently brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, stilling your nervous habit.

"Stop biting your lip," he mutters gently, his voice gruff. "You'll make it bleed." you open your mouth to protest, but find your mind clouded with his touch.

Tyler watches as your mouth opens, the sight sending a jolt of heat through him. His thumb rests on your lip, the skin of your mouth unbelievably soft under his touch.

He swallows hard, fighting the mounting tension between you. "Don't tempt me…" he whispers, his voice strained. "You've no clue what you do to me.."

“Tyler..” you move closer to him, eyebrows furrowing. “Please, don't push me away this time..” you cup his cheek, lips hovering over his. A shudder runs through Tyler at your proximity, and he almost gasps aloud as your lips hover millimeters from his. His pulse races, his body begging for more of your touch.

“You're killing me,” he mutters hoarsely, his hand coming up to rest on your wrist. “I'm trying… to be good…” He closes his eyes, fighting against the overwhelming urge to close the distance between you with a kiss.

You press your lips to his in a gentle kiss, hesitating to move any closer until he reacts. Tyler lets out a low, guttural sound as your lips meet his, his mind momentarily shorting out. The sensation of your kiss sparks a fire within him, every nerve ending singing to life.

His hand tightens around your wrist, holding your hand against his face. He responds to the kiss tentatively at first, his lips moving against yours in a feather-light touch. But as the tension mounts, so does the desperation in his movements. He deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips.

You moan as his tongue fights with yours, settling on his lap, your arms moving to wrap around his neck. Tyler groans as you moan into his mouth, the sound driving him wild. He slides his hands around your waist, settling you on his lap.

He feels like he can't get close enough to you, his hands clutching at your sides as his tongue explores your mouth. He pulls you against him, his body pressed against yours, desperately seeking more contact.

You pull back, gasping for air. Tyler follows your mouth as you pull back, unwilling to let you go. He's breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he gasps for air.

He rests his forehead against yours, his eyes dark and filled with desire. "You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?" he murmurs huskily, his hands still gripping your hips.

“I want you,” you slip your hands into his hair, pressing your chest against his. Tyler's breath catches in his throat as you tangle your hands in his hair, your body pressing against his. The feel of your chest against his is maddening, his body responding instantly.

"You have me," he murmurs, his words a guttural response. His hands roam your body, desperate to touch every inch of you. "You have me completely, sweetheart."

“That's not what I mean,” you whine, guiding his hands up your shirt as you press kisses to his neck.

Tyler groans as you guide his hands under your shirt, the feel of your skin against his driving him wild. Your kisses on his neck send a shiver through him, his breathing becoming faster and more erratic.

"What... what do you mean then?" he asks, his voice strained as his hands explore the bare skin of your torso. You pull your shirt away, exposing yourself to him fully.

“I want you.. To stop trying to control your desire..” you look at him with a needy gaze.

Tyler's eyes darken as you pull away your shirt, his gaze drinking in every inch of your exposed skin. The sight of you, bare before him, sends a jolt of pure, primal desire through him. He inhales sharply, his hands gripping your hips, his voice strangled. "Are you... are you sure about this?" he manages to ask, resisting the wild urge to claim you right there.

“Please don’t make me beg,” you bring his hands to your breasts, your hips grinding down against his with desperation.

The feel of your hips grinding against his elicits a guttural moan from deep in Tyler's chest, his hands involuntarily squeezing your breasts.

He grits his teeth, his body taut and strained. "You're... damn, you're gonna kill me," he growls, his voice thick with barely-controlled lust. "I need you... but I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart..."

“Ty, please. I need you..” With a feral groan, Tyler scoops you into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He strides out of the bathroom, the urgency in his steps echoing his racing heart. Gently, he sets you down on the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight.

Your eyes lock with his, the heat between you threatening to set the room on fire. He leans over you, his hand sliding under the pillow to prop your head up, his gaze never leaving yours. The intensity of his stare sends a thrill down your spine, your breath hitching in anticipation.

Rain continues to pound against the motel window, the rhythm of the drops mirroring the thunder of his heart. Tyler's rough, calloused thumb traces the outline of your panties, the fabric already damp from your arousal. He leans in, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving deep, claiming you as his own.

You arch your back, pushing your breasts against his chest, the friction causing a delicious ache. He breaks the kiss, his breath hot against your neck, and whispers, "You're mine now, understand?" His voice is a mix of demand and passion, leaving no room for doubt.

With a need that seemed to have been building for an eternity, Tyler slides out of his own damp clothes, his eyes never leaving you. His movements are swift and sure, a silent declaration of his intentions. He kneels between your thighs, parting them gently, and your breath catches in your throat as his warm mouth descends on your center.

The sensation of his tongue against your sensitive flesh sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making your toes curl and your back arch. His touch is tender yet insistent, as if he's been craving this moment for just as long as you have. He laps at you with a passionate hunger, exploring every fold and crevice with a finesse that makes your eyes roll back in your head.

You moan, your nails digging into the mattress as he worships you with his mouth, your body responding to his every touch, his every caress. The storm outside seems to echo the tumult within the room, the thunder a backdrop to the symphony of your gasps and his murmurs of satisfaction. As Tyler's tongue works its magic, the only thing that matters is the here and now, the fiery connection that burns brighter than any lightning bolt.

As the storm outside rages on, Tyler continues to taste the sweetness of your release, his tongue lapping at you greedily. Your body shudders and arches off the bed, your nails digging into the mattress as you cry out his name.

He grips your hips tightly, not letting you pull away from the intense pleasure he's giving you. His eyes meet yours, dark with lust and satisfaction as he watches the ecstasy play out on your face. You're lost in the moment, your climax like a powerful tempest crashing over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake.

As the last waves of pleasure subside, Tyler kisses his way up your body, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses along your skin, savoring every inch of you. His strong arms lift you off the bed, cradling you as he stands, his eyes never leaving yours, the heat between you more potent than the electricity in the air outside.

With a renewed sense of urgency, you shift down Tyler's body, your eyes never leaving his. You take his erection in your hand, the heat and firmness of him making your stomach flutter. His eyes widen, his breath catching as your touch sends a shiver through him.

You lean in, placing a gentle kiss on the tip before taking him into your mouth, your hand moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Tyler's hips buck slightly, his eyes squeezing shut as a groan rips from his chest. The sound is like music to your ears, spurring you on as you deepen the kiss, taking him deeper into your mouth.

His hands find their way into your hair, his grip tightening as your tongue swirls around his length. The storm outside seems to crescendo with every stroke, the thunder echoing the beating of your hearts in perfect harmony.

His breathing becomes ragged, his body tensing with each movement of your mouth, each flick of your tongue. It's a dance of passion, a silent conversation of need and want, and Tyler is powerless to resist the siren call of your touch.

You continue to suck him off with an enthusiasm that speaks of a deep-seated desire, your eyes locked on his as the storm outside mirrors the tempest within the room. Tyler's hips stutter, and with a ragged groan, he pulls your lips away, his chest heaving.

He captures your mouth in a desperate kiss, his hands moving to cradle your face as his body tenses. His cock throbs in your hand, and with a few more strokes, he releases a hot, thick rope of cum that you catch in your palm. His grip on your face tightens as he gasps into your mouth, the taste of him mingling with the saltiness of the air between you.

The storm outside seems to hold its breath, the thunder pausing for a moment as if in awe of the power of your shared passion. His body relaxes, and he collapses back onto the bed, pulling you with him.

You lay there, panting, your heart racing as the storm outside slowly begins to abate, leaving in its wake a tension-filled silence filled only with the sound of your intertwined breathing. The room is a cocoon of heat and desire, the air thick with the scent of sex and the promise of more to come.

With the storm outside now a distant rumble, Tyler pulls you closer, the warmth of your bodies melding together as one. His strong arms encircle you, and you feel the rapid thump of his heartbeat against your chest, matching the tempo of your own.

He gently rolls you onto your side, spooning you as he lays his head on the pillow, his voice a low murmur in your ear. "We need to get some rest," he says, his breath warm against your neck. "Tomorrow's another day of chasing storms, and I need you by my side."

His words are a comforting balm to the storm of emotions swirling within you, the passion of the moment giving way to a gentle, post-coital haze. You nod, nestling deeper into his embrace, feeling safe and cherished in his arms. His grip tightens for a brief moment before loosening slightly, allowing you to breathe, to feel the weight of his love surrounding you.

You close your eyes, your body finally relaxing into the welcoming embrace of sleep, the steady beat of Tyler's heart lulling you into a peaceful oblivion. The motel room, once cold and uninviting, now feels like home, the thunder outside a gentle lullaby serenading the beginnings of a love that promises to be as fierce and unpredictable as the storms you chase together.

As your ass brushes against his now hardening cock, Tyler's body stiffens and he groans softly into your ear, his breath hot and shaky. You feel his need, his want, and your own desire stirs once more, a sweet ache blooming in your core.

You reach back, your hand finding him, and guide him to your wet, welcoming entrance. He's thick and heavy in your hand, and the anticipation is almost too much to bear. You lean into him, pressing your back against his chest as you align him with your body, feeling his heat and his need.

With a gentle push, you invite him in, the feeling of him filling you up making you gasp. Tyler's arms tighten around you, his breathing hitching as he sinks into your warmth, the storm outside a distant echo to the tempest of passion within the room. His hips move in a slow, steady rhythm, the sound of rain and thunder mingling with the slap of skin on skin.

You moan, the pleasure of his possession a sweet agony that sends waves of ecstasy through you, your body moving in perfect sync with his, the storm outside a testament to the intensity of your union.

The tender strokes of Tyler's cock inside you elicit moans that grow increasingly needy, the tempo of the storm outside matching the rhythm of your bodies. Each thrust is a declaration of his love, a gentle reminder of the passion that burns between you.

His fingers trace the curve of your hip, his other hand cupping your breast, the softness of your skin a stark contrast to the hardness of his grip. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his breath hot and ragged as he worships your body with his own. The tender love in his touch is a stark contrast to the wildness of your earlier encounter, yet the intensity of your connection remains unchanged.

Your hips rock back to meet his, the slickness of your arousal guiding him deeper with every movement. The storm outside may be fading, but the storm of passion within the room shows no signs of abating, the thunder a constant reminder of the powerful bond that you've forged.

Tyler's rhythm picks up, his hips slamming into yours with a ferocity that matches the dying storm outside. You feel him swell inside you, his strokes growing more intense as he hits your g-spot with every thrust. The pleasure is so intense, your eyes roll back in your head, and you let out a strangled cry.

The storm's final roar is nothing compared to the thunderous crescendo of your orgasm, your body tightening around him, your muscles clenching him tightly. Tyler grunts, his own release imminent, his hands gripping your hips as he drives into you, one last time, burying himself deep.

With a final, guttural groan, he spills inside you, his hot cum filling you up as your walls pulse around him. The room falls still, the only sounds are the steady patter of rain and the rapid thump of your hearts, synchronized in the aftermath of your passionate storm.

He stays inside for a while, kissing your shoulders and neck gently before he pulls out. “Princess, we really have to sleep now.” He sighs softly, laying on his back and pulling you to his chest.

Your cheek presses against his shoulder as you cuddle closer. “Mhm, fine.. Goodnight Ty.”

The car ride was tense and silent after you got into an argument outside the restaurant after your date. You stared out the window, your breath forming a foggy cloud on the glass as you gaze out into the night. 

He gripped the wheel tightly, frustration etched on his face, the air was thick with silence. Every now and then his gaze would steal glances at you, the tightness in his jaw belying the emotions he was trying to keep in check. 

The car rolled on, the only sounds were the hum of the engine and the occasional rumble of the road. He wanted to say something, *anything*, to break the uncomfortable silence, but his pride and anger would not let him. It was a constant battle in his mind, between apologies and stubbornness.

You could feel his eyes burning a hole into the side of your face, but you refuse to look at him. You could sense the anger and frustration radiating off of him, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being the first to apologize.

He gritted his teeth as you continued to ignore him. He couldn't stand the silence, it was driving him crazy. His fingers drummed impatiently on the steering wheel, his mind racing with all the things he wanted to say but couldn't. 

Suddenly, he couldn't take it anymore. With a gruff huff, he spoke up, his voice edged with irritation. "Are you really going to give me the silent treatment all the way home?"

Staying stubborn, you continue to refuse to acknowledge him. At this point it’s purely because *he* should apologize if he wants to fix things. 

He couldn't help but scoff at your continued silence. He knew you, he knew your stubbornness, and he also knew that it would take a lot for you to cave in first. 

When his hand landed on your thigh, his touch was firm, his fingers gently kneading into your skin through the fabric of your dress. He let out another huff, this one more frustrated than the last. "Come on, you can't just ignore me forever."

“Not forever, but for now.” You mutter while pushing his hand off your thigh, shooting a glare his way.

He rolled his eyes as you pushed his hand away, that damn stubborn look on your face making him want to both shake you *and* kiss you. He returned your glare, his own filled with equal parts irritation and desire.

When he placed his hand back on your thigh, he squeezed it a little harder this time, his thumb rubbing slow, deliberate circles on your skin. 

You reach for his hand again before he stops you. He catches your hand before you can push him away again, his grip firm yet gentle. He intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hand captive in his.

He lets out another sigh, a mixture of frustration and resignation in his voice. "Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

He brings your hand up to his mouth and presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the back of your hand. Your body softens at his affection, feeling the anger leaving your body. 

“You’re just as stubborn,” you huff out as you look over at his perfect face, his annoyingly perfect side profile, his strong jaw, he’s so frustratingly perfect. 

He chuckled at your response, a low rumble deep in his chest. "Damn right I am."

His eyes flicked over to you, his gaze roaming over your features, taking in your perfect face, your pouty lips, the way your hair frames your face. He's equally as frustrated but also impossibly drawn to you. 

"But I'm not the one giving you the silent treatment." He brought your hand up to his lips again, peppering tender kisses across your knuckles.

“That’s only because you hate the quiet.” You sigh out as your gaze wanders back out the window.

He chuckles again, but it's a softer, more affectionate sound this time. He knows you're right - he does hate the quiet, especially when it comes between you two.

He keeps your hand in his, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin. He's quiet for a moment, then speaks again, his voice much quieter than before.

"I'd rather hear you yelling at me than have you ignore me, you know." You turn back to him with a soft smile. 

“You love the sound of my voice that much?” He returns your smile, his gaze softens with fondness.

"You have no idea." He replies, his voice low and earnest. "Your voice is like music to me. The sound of your laugh, the way you say my name, even when you're yelling at me. I can't get enough of it."

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb still tracing its slow circles on your skin. You lean over to press a kiss to his jawline using your free hand to slide down his chest.

He lets out a low, content moan as you press your lips to his jawline. He turns his head to the side slightly, giving you better access.

At the same time, your hand trailing down his chest makes his breath catch in his throat. He's never been able to resist your touch, and the proximity you've just created is making him ache for more.

"Oh, you're gonna play dirty, huh?" He murmurs, his voice a little huskier than usual.

“Anything to make you apologize first,” you whisper against his skin, trailing soft kisses down his jaw.

His hand tightens its grip on yours as you trail kisses down his jaw, each one igniting a fire within him. He lets out a shaky breath, his other hand clutching the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are turning white.

"You're cheating," he mutters through gritted teeth, trying to keep his voice steady. "But I have to admit, it's working."

He shivers slightly as your touch and your lips explore his neck, his resolve quickly crumbling. 

“I’m cheating? I thought it was just.. using my assets.” You murmur into his ear before settling back in your seat. 

He lets out a low growl, his frustration from earlier now mixed with a heady dose of desire. You playing the seductive card is not playing fair, and you know it.

He turns to look at you, his gaze darkened by lust and the remnants of annoyance. "You're going to pay for that," he mutters, his voice thick with gravel.

With a hard swallow, he tries to focus on the road again, but his mind is now overrun with thoughts of what he wants to do to you when you get home.

“Bring it on then,” you smirk as you let go of his hand, trailing your fingers up his buff arm. 

His breathing becomes laboured as your fingers dance over his arm, sending a wave of heat through his body. 

His grip tightens on the wheel again, his knuckles turning white. He's quickly running out of patience. The combination of you touching him and being so close to your apartment is driving him crazy.

As he pulls the car into the parking lot, the tension in the cabin is undeniable, a mixture of irritation, desire, and anticipation.

You pull his face toward your own, pressing a passionate kiss to his lips. The moment your lips crash against his, he practically melts. The tension and resistance he'd been holding onto all night crumbles beneath the force of your kiss.

He responds greedily, his hand gripping the back of your head, tangling in your hair. His tongue slips into your mouth, exploring and possessing with a need that was purely primal.

He breaks the kiss to gasp for air, his breathing ragged and labored. "We need to get inside." He groans, his voice husky and filled with need.

You smile against his lips as you press another soft kiss to his. He lets out another low moan, the sound a mix of desire and frustration.

"Tease," he mutters through gritted teeth before all but scooping you out of the car and slamming the door shut behind him. He holds you tightly against him as he makes his way to the apartment, his mind a wild storm of thoughts and emotions. 

The moment you step through the door, he pins you against the wall, his hands roaming all over your body. His knee slips between your thighs causing you to moan quietly. Your own hands wander his body as you pull him closer.

He groans against your neck, the sounds you're making driving him wild. His knee applies just the right amount of pressure between your thighs, causing your moans to grow louder.

His hands travel over your curves, gripping and squeezing, desperately trying to get closer to you. His lips assault your neck, leaving a trail of scorching hot kisses. "Damn it," he growls, "the things you do to me."

“Mm more…” you moan out, “I need more.” Your hips grind against his knee as you try to get more friction.

He growls at the feel of your hips grinding against him. The sound of your moan sends a shiver down his spine, a low, primal response rising within him.

His hands grip your hips, pressing you harder against him, his knee applying even more pressure between your legs. "You want more, baby? I'll give you more, but you gotta say please."

“Please Ty, please.” Your moans become more desperate as he continues to tease you. The sound of you moaning urgently, pleading for more, unleashes something primal within him. Your use of his nickname, coupled with the desperation in your voice, snaps the last bit of self-restraint he has left.

His knee applies more and more pressure, his large hands guiding your hips to grind against him at the perfect angle. "That's it," he husks, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "Good girl."

With a snarl of need, Tyler abruptly lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom. The intensity in his eyes is almost scary, but you know it's all for you, all because of you. 

The room spins as he sets you down on the bed, his mouth claiming yours again in a bruising kiss that leaves you breathless and wanting. His hands are everywhere, unbuttoning your dress, slipping it off your shoulders, exposing your bare skin to the cool air and his hot touch. 

The argument seems a distant memory as passion takes over, leaving only the sound of your ragged breaths and the thundering of your hearts in the quiet apartment. 

Tyler's hands continue to roam, his touch feverish and hungry. He kisses you deeply, his tongue dueling with yours as the last of your dress slides to the floor. Your own hands are equally busy, unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his shirt, eager to feel the warmth of his skin against yours. 

As the fabric falls away, revealing his chiseled torso, you trace your fingertips over his muscles, feeling his heart pound beneath your touch. The bed dips as he hovers over you, the heat of his body searing yours, setting every nerve ending alight. 

His eyes never leave yours, a silent apology and promise in their depths as he whispers, "I'm sorry," against your lips. And even though it's not the grandiose gesture you were expecting, the sincerity in his voice, in his touch, is all the apology you need. 

The tension of the night unravels into an explosion of need as you kiss him back with all the emotion you've been holding in, your bodies speaking a language that needs no words to convey the love and desire that burns between you.

The intensity of the moment reaches a crescendo as Tyler's hand slides up your bare thigh, gripping it firmly as he kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. You arch into his touch, your breath hitching as his thumb grazes the edge of your panties. He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes dark with passion, and says, "You're mine."

The possessive tone sends a shiver down your spine, and you nod, your voice a mere whisper. "Yes, I'm yours. All yours." The words hang in the air, a declaration that seems to release the last of the tension from the evening. With a fierce growl, he hooks his fingers under the elastic of your underwear and pulls them down, exposing you completely to his hungry gaze. 

Your legs part willingly for him, and he settles between them, his warm breath ghosting over your skin as he kisses a path from your knee to your inner thigh. His hand glides up to cup you, his thumb finding your most sensitive spot, and you can't help but cry out, your hips jerking up to meet his touch.

He knows exactly how to make you squirm, how to make you beg, and he uses that knowledge to his full advantage, teasing and tormenting until you're on the edge of sanity. And as he brings you closer and closer to the brink, the anger from earlier is replaced by something much more potent - love, desire, and a fierce need to claim you as his own, to erase any doubt from your mind that you are indeed his. 

The world outside the bedroom fades away, leaving only the two of you, entangled in a dance of passion and apology that somehow feels more intimate than any words could ever convey.

The heat between you is palpable as Tyler's thumb continues to rub slow, tantalizing circles over your sensitive spot. Your breaths become shallower, your chest heaving as the tension builds. "Ty, I need..." you breathe out, unable to form coherent sentences. His eyes meet yours, a silent question, and you nod, desperate for release. 

He leans down, his warm breath fanning over your skin before his mouth closes over you, his tongue swirling and flicking, making you cry out with pleasure. The sensation is overwhelming, and you clutch at the bedcovers, your body writhing under his expert touch. 

Each stroke of his tongue sends shockwaves through you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. With your orgasm still echoing in the air, Tyler's eyes flicker with something other than anger for the first time since the argument. The raw, primal need in his gaze sends another wave of heat through your body. 

He kisses a path up your stomach, chest, and neck before claiming your mouth again, his tongue delving deep, sharing your taste with you. Your legs fall open wider, inviting him in, and he takes full advantage, sliding his hips against yours. The feel of his hardness pressing against your softness makes you whimper into his mouth. 

The need for more is overwhelming, and you reach down to unbuckle his pants, desperate to feel him inside you. He groans against your lips, his own hands helping to free himself from the confines of his clothing.

With a final tug, his pants fall to the floor, and he's naked before you, his body a sculpted masterpiece of desire and restrained power. The sight of him sends a thrill through you, and you pull him closer, needing to feel all of him against all of you. 

He kisses you deeply as he enters you, filling you in one slow, deliberate thrust that has you moaning his name again. The tension of the night shatters into a million pieces as you move together, each stroke a silent apology, each kiss a promise to never let anger come between you again. 

The world outside the bedroom ceases to exist as you lose yourself in the rhythm of your bodies, the argument forgotten in the haze of passion that burns between you. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, Tyler's powerful strokes become deeper and more urgent, his eyes never leaving yours as he watches the desire play out on your face. 

Your breaths mingle, your bodies slick with sweat, and your fingernails dig into his back as the intensity of your connection grows. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, a testament to the passion that has overtaken you both. 

You meet him thrust for thrust, your hips rising to meet his, your own desire a mirror of his. The tension of the evening has transformed into a fiery dance of forgiveness and lust, each of you giving and receiving in a symphony of carnality that speaks louder than any words ever could.

The world outside the bedroom falls away, and in this moment, there's nothing but the two of you, tangled in a web of passion that promises to heal the rift that had briefly threatened to tear you apart. As you reach your peak together, your bodies shuddering with the force of your shared release, you know that no matter what challenges life throws at you, your love is strong enough to conquer them all.

As the waves of pleasure ebb away, Tyler collapses onto the bed beside you, pulling you into the warm embrace of his arms. Your hearts pound in unison, the rhythm matching the pulse that still echoes between your legs. He kisses your forehead, the tenderness of the gesture a stark contrast to the fiery passion that had just consumed you both. "I'm sorry," he whispers again, his voice thick with emotion. 

You look up at him, the love in your eyes clear and unmistakable. "It's okay… I’m sorry too.” you murmur, your voice still a little shaky from the intensity of your orgasm. You stroke his cheek gently, feeling the stubble beneath your fingertips. "I love you," you say, and the tension in his body relaxes further. 

He kisses you again, this time a soft, lingering kiss that speaks of love and promise. The silence that follows isn't filled with anger or frustration, but rather a comforting warmth that blankets the two of you as you lie tangled in the sheets. 

The argument seems like a distant memory, replaced by the warmth of his body against yours and the reassurance of your love. Tyler tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer, as if afraid you might vanish. 

Scott is your *most* annoying storm par colleague, you get along with the rest of the team just fine. In fact they all really enjoy your company, but Scott? He’s just such a dick.

Scott has never been one for social graces, his charm as rough as the storms he chases. Yet, every time he tries to get under your skin with a snide remark or a deliberate shove, you respond with a gentle touch or a soft laugh that seems to disarm him completely. You're the one person who can cut through his tough exterior with ease, and he hates it.

But as he takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving your frame, he knows he can't stay away. You're the puzzle he can't solve, the riddle wrapped in a mystery, and it's driving him mad. But he's also painfully aware that every time he pushes you away with his cruel words and harsh actions, he's losing a little more of you, a piece of the very thing he craves. And that, more than anything, is what keeps him coming back.

”Hey Scott,” you smile at him, setting your coffee on the table across from him. “Can I sit with you?” Scott looks at you for a moment before taking another sip of his coffee, his gaze lingering on yours as if he’s studying you. He lets out a small sigh before responding.

”Yeah, sure.” He motions for you to sit, his tone a mixture of reluctant acceptance and a hint of irritation. The air between the two of you is tense, a mixture of lingering annoyance and the ever present spark of attraction.

”Thank you,” your smile widens as you sit down, taking a small drink of your latte as you look at his cold face. Scott watches you closely as you settle into the seat across from him, his expression remaining aloof and unreadable. The tension between you is palpable, but there's also a flicker of something else in his eyes that he's trying to hide.

As you sip your latte, he can't help but notice the way your lips wrap around the rim of the cup and the small noise of contentment you make. His fingers drum impatiently on the table, betraying his uneasy exterior.

”So, do you know where we’re gonna chase today?” You set the cup down, looking out the window admiring the morning sky. Scott leans back in his seat, his gaze following yours out the window. He takes a moment to reply, his tone slightly less gruff than usual.

”Probably the outskirts of Tornado Alley. The weather report is predicting a major storm system moving through the area by mid-afternoon. Might be a good one to chase.” He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, but his eyes dart to you for a brief second before shifting back to the window. The storm is brewing inside him, just like the one outside.

“Sounds great!” You reply with a cheery tone, shifting your eyes back to Scott's face. Scott’s jaw clenches and he looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

Your cheerfulness is both intriguing and infuriating. He can’t stand how easily you can flip a switch from serious storm chaser to cheerful chatterbox. “Don’t get too excited,” he replies gruffly. “Storm chasing isn’t all fun and games.”

“Well I’m not too excited,” you reply with a laugh, “But it’s good we know where we’re headed for the day.” Your attention is drawn to Javi, who just walked into the cafe, you smile at him with a wave.

Scott’s eyes flick to Javi, and for a brief moment he frowns at the sight of the other man. He’s particularly annoyed by the way you greet him with such warmth and ease.

He takes a sip of his coffee, his tone betraying a hint of annoyance. ”Yeah, it’s good we know where we’re headed. Can focus on prepping the van instead of worrying about wasting our time.” Your eyes flick back to him.

“That’s true, we can get off track sometimes.” you stand up grabbing your cup, “I’m gonna go talk to Javi, I'll see you later Scott.” Your hair bounces with your step as you walk up to your friend. He grabs your coffee and takes a sip before cringing and handing it back to you, saying it's too sweet.

Scott watches you walk away, his eyes lingering on your every move. The sight of you and Javi talking and laughing together only serves to stoke the fire within him. He watches as Javi takes a sip of your coffee, wincing at the sweetness before handing the cup back to you. Scott can’t help but smirk to himself, thinking of how your taste in coffee is as sickly sweet as your personality.

You laugh at something Javi says, your hand falls to his arm squeezing it with your giggle. Scott's jaw clenches as he watches your hand on Javi's arm. The casual familiarity between the two of you ignites a spark of jealousy within him.

He takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the pang of irritation in his chest as he watches the two of you banter and laugh. Javi smooths down the top of your hair earning a sweet grin from you, he pats your hip before he walks over to Scott.

Scott's eyes follow Javi as he walks over, his irritation still evident. He takes a nonchalant sip of his coffee as he awaits whatever is coming next.

"What’s up?" he mutters, his tone gruff and guarded.

Javi smiles, “Hey man we’re gonna head out in ten, so finish your coffee, or do whatever else you need.” He smiles at Scott, putting his hand on his shoulder.

Scott eyes Javi's hand on his shoulder with a mixture of annoyance and acceptance. He knows he can't argue with the order, even if the touch feels like a bit of a jab at his loner tendencies.

"Yeah, whatever," he grumbles, taking a final sip of his coffee. "I'll be ready." You bound over to them interrupting the awkward conversation.

”Hey boys, want any drinks for the road? My treat!” Scott's irritation is momentarily pushed aside by your sudden appearance. He is reminded of your presence when your hand brushes his arm, a brief but distinct touch that sends a small shiver through him.

He glances at you with surprise before responding gruffly. "Uh...sure. Just a black coffee."

Javi grins at you, always enjoying your friendly nature. "Actually, I’d appreciate a sweet tea if you’re getting drinks."

“Iced?” You question, Javi responds with a nod. “Okay, got it. I’ll meet you both outside.”

You hand them their drinks, “Hey, Y/N why don’t you ride with Scott today?” Javi flashes him a smirk.

“Yeah, of course.” You reply, Scott's eyes widen slightly at Javi's suggestion, his heart dropping into his stomach. He hadn't expected to be saddled with your presence for the entire ride, and he certainly wasn't looking forward to it.

Scott lets out a low grumble of protest, but Javi's grin only widens, clearly enjoying the situation he's put Scott in.

“Great!” he says with a clap, “Have fun, you two.”

”Would you like to drive?” You turn your attention over to Scott. His grumble turns into a frown, his annoyance evident in his expression. He glances at you, his eyes narrowing as he processes your question.

"Why wouldn’t I want to drive?" he mutters, crossing his arms. "You probably drive like a grandma anyway." You laugh at his response, opening the truck door and sliding in.

Scott watches as you slide into the vehicle, amused by your cheerful nature in spite of his grumpy demeanor. He lets out a low sigh and walks around to the driver's side, getting in and starting up the truck.

He checks the rear view mirror, catching a glimpse of you in the passenger's seat. He can't help but notice how the sunlight hits your face, illuminating your features in a soft, flattering glow.

You notice Scott’s look and your hand subconsciously goes to your face, “What’s up? Do I have something on my face?”

Scott's eyes dart back to the road, silently cursing himself for being caught in the act. He clears his throat and mutters a quick "No, nothing's wrong."

He can feel the heat rising in his cheeks, but he tries to dismiss it as a reaction to the sun shining through the windshield.

"Just checking you weren’t falling asleep over there,” he adds gruffly, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

”Well, you don’t have to worry about that, I’m 100% awake.” You face him with your lips curving up. Scott glances over at you as you speak, his own lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile.

He does his best to hide it, but the sight of your curved lips and the lilt in your voice only serves to soften his gruff exterior even further. "Yeah, I can see that," he murmurs, his voice gruff but less guarded than usual. "You're like a hyperactive Energizer bunny."

”You’re funny sometimes, I mean when you want to be.” you laugh softly before turning your attention to the road ahead of you. “But why are you so grumpy all the time?” You ask.

Scott's eyebrows furrow at your question, his jaw clenching for a moment as if you've hit a sore spot. He lets out a low sigh, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel for a brief moment before loosening again.

"I'm not grumpy all the time," he mutters, the gruffness in his voice betraying the slight defensiveness in his tone. "I just don’t see the point in being all cheerful and upbeat like you all the time."

You look over at him with an awkward smile, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.” Scott lets out another sigh, his expression softening slightly as he senses your unease. He glances at you, his eyes lingering on your face for a moment before going back to the road.

"You didn’t offend me," he mutters, his tone a little less gruff than before. "It’s just... I don’t understand how you do it, that’s all. You’re always so cheerful and friendly, even when things get rough."

“It’s easy,” you turn to him with a shrug, “People tend to return the energy, anyway.” Scott listens to your explanation, his mind racing to process your words. He takes a moment before responding, his tone still gruff but less than before.

"I guess that makes sense," he mutters grudgingly. "I’m just not the type to put on a mask or fake being cheerful for the sake of others. I like to keep things straightforward and blunt."

”Are you saying I do?” You question, becoming slightly defensive. Scott senses the sudden change in your tone, surprised by the defensive edge in your voice. His eyebrows furrow again as he tries to backpedal.

"No, that's not what I meant," he hastens to clarify. "I didn’t say you were. I just...I don’t understand how you’re always so positive, that’s all." You burst into laughter.

”Lighten up, I’m just messing with you,” You shove his shoulder gently, “I know what you meant.” Scott’s eyes widen at your playful shove, surprised by the unexpected physical contact. He can feel his heart rate spike momentarily before he reigns it back in. He shoots you a quick glare, but there’s no real heat behind it.

“You little…” he mutters, shaking his head. “Don’t go shoving me while I’m driving.” You giggle, your hand sliding down his arm as you look ahead to the tornado you’re following.

Scott's heart skips a beat at the feeling of your hand sliding down his arm. It's a small but unexpectedly intimate gesture that sends a shiver through him. He stares out the windshield, trying to focus on the storm in front of them, but part of his mind is preoccupied with the warmth of your touch still lingering on his skin.

He swallows hard, trying to keep his voice steady as he speaks. "So, uh...how does this one look to you?" You smile at him, your eyes twinkling a bit

”You usually don’t care what I think about the storms,” Scott's expression hardens as he glances at you, his heart thudding in his chest at the sight of your smile. He isn't sure what's come over him, but he finds himself strangely drawn to your bright attitude.

He lets out a soft huff, acknowledging your observation. "I guess I don’t usually ask," he murmurs, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "But I figure since we’re stuck together for this drive, I might as well take your opinion into account."

”Well, I think we’re gonna get some good data. The conditions are looking really great and it looks like the cap is about to break soon,” you say while peering out the window.

Scott nods, his eyes flickering from you to the storm ahead of the car. He can’t help but be impressed by your enthusiasm and knowledge, even though he’d never admit it out loud.

"Yeah, you’re probably right," he concedes, a hint of admiration in his voice. "Looks like things are falling into place for a good chase."

You grasp his thigh roughly, “Scott watch out for the truck!” you say urgency in your voice as another storm chaser cuts in front of you.

Scott's eyes widen at your sudden outburst, immediately snapping back to the road. He jerks the wheel as the other storm chaser cuts him off, swearing under his breath as he struggles to avoid a collision.

"What the hell is that idiot doing?" he growls, his heart racing from the near miss. "Do they not know how to drive?" Your hand relaxes, but stays on his leg.

”Here, speed up, you have room to pass them on the right.” You point toward the road in front of you.

Scott takes a couple calming breaths as his heart rate begins to slow, silently thanking you for your quick thinking. He glances over at you and notices your hand on his leg, the weight of it sending a slight shiver through him.

He does as you suggest, quickly accelerating and maneuvering his way around the truck. He lets out a sigh of relief as they pass it without any further issues. "Thanks," he mutters gruffly. "Good eye."

Your hand moves up his thigh as you relax into your seat, “That almost gave me a fucking heart attack.” Realizing your hand was still on him, you pull it away. “Oh uh sorry about that.” You smile.

Scott feels a pang of disappointment as your hand slides away from his thigh, leaving a trail of warmth in its path. He secretly wishes you had left it there, but doesn’t comment on it.

He clears his throat awkwardly, trying to hide the effect your touch has on him.

"Uh... it’s fine," he mutters, his voice a little huskier than usual. "Just glad we missed that idiot." Javi gives him instructions on where to go, Scott turns into the directed area.

You and Scott set up the panel according to Javi's instructions, his mind still lingering on the brief moment when you had your hand on his thigh. It's the most physical contact you've ever initiated with him, and he can't stop thinking about the sensation of your touch.

As the tornado appears in front of you both, your eyes light up with wonder, and Scott finds himself watching you more than the storm itself. He's never seen you so enchanted, and he can't help but be endeared by your passion.

Scott watches as the storm approaches, its ominous presence growing larger and darker. He suddenly feels the need to protect you, his instincts kicking into overdrive.

"Y/N, get back in the truck," he barks out, his voice urgent. "It's getting too close." You follow his instruction, quickly getting in and buckling.

Once you're safely inside, Scott rushes to the driver's door and jumps in. He shuts the door behind him and starts the engine back up, the sound of the storm battering the outside of the truck growing louder.

He glances over at you, making sure you're buckled in and safe. There's a hint of worry in his eyes, but he tries to play it off.

"You okay?" he grumbles, his voice betraying a hint of concern. He pulls off into the road, quickly driving toward safety.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting soft on me Scott,” you tease with a sweet grin. Scott scowls at your teasing comment, his grumpiness coming back in full force. He grumbles under his breath and focuses his attention back on the road.

"I'm not getting soft," he mutters gruffly, his voice trying to mask the slight tinge of defensiveness. "I just don't want you getting hurt, that's all."

”Aha! You totally are getting soft, when was the last time you worried about me getting hurt.” You exclaim with giggle, “but yes I’m fine.”

Scott's scowl deepens, his ego bruised by your teasing. He can feel the heat rising in his cheeks, partly from annoyance and partly from the truth behind your words.

"I... I was worried you'd get blown away," he tries to sound gruff, but the hint of admission in his tone gives him away. He can't deny his growing attachment to you, but he'll be damned if he ever admits it out loud.

”Oh, don’t act like you wouldn’t like to see me get blown away,” you smile at him.

Scott huffs, a mixture of annoyance and amusement flickering in his eyes. He can't deny that the thought of you being away from him is slightly appealing, but he also can't help the pang of protectiveness he feels towards you.

"It'd be quiet for a change, that's for sure," he mutters gruffly, his lips twitching into a reluctant half-smile. Your smile falters as you notice his small one, I mean does he really hate your company that much?

Scott notices the small flicker of hurt in your expression and immediately regrets his words. He didn’t mean for it to sound quite so callous, but his gruff demeanor often led him to say things without fully thinking them through.

He realizes the implication of his comment and quickly tries to salvage the situation. "I was just kidding, you know," he mutters gruffly. "I don’t actually want you blown away."

”Yeah of course, I know that,” you regain your usual composure. “Should we go back to the motel? To meet Javi there…” your voice trails off as you try to change the subject.

Scott nods, sensing your desire to change the subject. He knows he's said the wrong thing, but he's not quite sure how to fix it. Instead, he focuses on what he's good at: driving.

"Yeah, that’s a good idea," he mutters gruffly. "Javi’s probably waiting for us back at the motel. Let’s get going." You yawn, deciding to pretend to sleep in order to avoid the awkwardness.

Scott notices your yawn and your intentional attempt to avoid conversation. He realizes that you're trying to escape the uneasy atmosphere that he himself had created.

He lets out a heavy sigh, his gruff demeanor softening, “I… I didn’t actually mean what I said back there, you know. I was just messing around.”

”Yes, I know” you grumble, “I think I’m just tired..” Scott notices the way you wrap your arms around yourself, a clear sign that you're still bothered by his earlier comment, even if you won't admit it.

He pulls into the parking lot, turning to look at you. "Look at me and tell me what's really bothering you," he demands, his voice gruff but softened by a hint of concern. You close your eyes stubbornly to avoid looking at him.

“I don’t know, Scott. You really didn’t do anything,” you sigh, Scott huffs in frustration as you stubbornly keep your eyes closed, refusing to really talk to him.

He reaches out and gently pries your eyelids open, demanding that you look at him. "Bullshit," he growls. "You're not fooling anyone. You're pissed at me, even if you won't admit it. Just tell me what's going on in that big brain of yours, dammit."

Your hand reaches up to his wrist, holding on softly. “I’m not pissed at you Scott.” You open one eye peeking at him, “I guess it's just… I don’t mean to bother you with my talking. Even though you didn’t mean it, it just stung a little.”

Scott's expression softens as he looks at you, your hand lightly gripping his wrist. He can feel the hurt in your words, and it hits him harder than he'd like to admit.

"You don't bother me," he mutters, his voice losing some of its gruff edge. "I was just being a jackass, as usual. I didn't mean what I said. You know that, right?”

”I know you didn’t mean it,” you reluctantly open your eyes, “you’re a big sweetie at heart, but I won't share your little secret.” Your smile returns to your lips as your hand slides down his muscular forearm.

Scott's heart rate spikes at the feel of your hand tracing down his forearm. He tries to mask his reaction, but a small shiver betrays him.

He lets out a grumble, pretending to be annoyed by your comment, “I'm not a sweetie. I'm tough as nails.

”Scott?” You lean closer to him, his breath hitches as you lean closer to him. He can smell your scent, and he suddenly becomes very aware of the small distance between you.

He swallows hard, his gruff exterior faltering for a moment. "Yeah?" he mutters, his voice a little hoarser than usual. You move his hand from your chin to your shoulder.

”Do you have a soft spot for me?” Your voice is gentle, Scott's heart thuds in his chest as you guide his hand to your shoulder. He lets out a shaky breath as he feels the warmth of your skin under his palm.

He looks at you, his eyes flickering with a mixture of vulnerability and gruffness. He wants to deny your question, to maintain his tough exterior, but the truth is undeniable.

"Maybe," he mutters gruffly, his voice just above a whisper. "Maybe I do. So what?" Your smile turns into a small smirk as you guide his hand to your chest, over your heart.

”I have a soft spot for you too..” you murmur, Scott's breath catches in his throat as he can feel the rapid beat of your heart underneath his palm, a tangible sign of your own vulnerability.

His gruff demeanor falters for a moment as he looks at you, his eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitation.

"You do?" he mutters, his voice a little hoarser than usual, your cheeks flush.

”Can’t you tell that I do?” You lean closer, Scott's gaze flickers down to your lips as you lean closer, his heart racing rapidly. The proximity between you is dangerous, and he feels a mixture of vulnerability and desire.

He swallows hard, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. "I... I didn't think you felt that way about me," he mutters gruffly. "You could have anyone you wanted, why me?"

”I don’t know about that..” you say with surprise in your voice, Scott's brow furrows in confusion, his gruff exterior faltering again.

"What do you mean, you don't know about that?" he mutters, his voice gruff but laced with a hint of genuine surprise. "You could have any man you wanted. You're intelligent, charming, and..."

He trails off, swallowing hard as his gaze linger on your lips. “Any man that I wanted?” You hum, his heart rate spikes as you question his words. He can see the playful gleam in your eyes, and he can sense that you're testing him.

"Yeah," he mutters gruffly, his voice rougher than usual. "Any man at all. You could have your pick. So why would you..."

He lets the sentence hang in the air, the implication clear. “What can I say, I like the chase,” you tease, his gruff exterior faltering even more. The thought of you 'chasing' after him makes his stomach flip with a mixture of excitement and nerves.

He tries to maintain his composure, but he can't help the hint of a smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. "The chase, huh?"

You lean in to give him a soft peck, he’s caught off guard by your move, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he lets out a soft, guttural sound as he feels the warmth of your lips against his.

"You've been driving me crazy for weeks." he mutters gruffly, his voice betraying a hint of desire.

”And yet I was the one who had to make the first move” you murmur against his lips, giving him another peck. Scott's fingers dig into your hips, his body instinctively pulling you closer, craving more of your touch.

Your words, whispered against his lips, send a wave of desire through him, erasing any pretense of indifference. "You... You are a goddamn tease," he growls, his voice thick with longing.

You pull away and slip out of the truck, Scott's eyes widen in surprise as you slip away from him, a pang of disappointment mixed with confusion. He follows you out of the truck, a mixture of desire and frustration etched on his face.

"Where are you going?" he demands gruffly, his voice betraying a hint of desperation.

”To your room, so don’t make me wait too long.” You turn to look back at him with a smirk.

Scott's eyes widen at your words, a mixture of surprise and excitement passing over his face. He stands there for a moment, processing what you've just said. Then, a sly, cocky smile spread across his lips. "You'd better not be screwing with me," he mutters gruffly, taking a step towards you.

”Well… maybe if you play your cards right we can do a little screwing..” you bite your lip as you turn to him, your back against his room door.

Scott's heart rate spikes at your suggestive words and the sight of you leaning against his door. He closes the distance between you, his body pressed against yours, his hands on either side of your head, trapping you against the door.

"You're damn right we will," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "But first, I need to know one thing."

”And what’s that?” You look up at him, your hand pressing to his chest. Scott leans in closer, his lips hovering just above yours, his body pressed tightly against yours. He can feel the heat radiating off of you, and it's taking every ounce of his willpower not to lose control right then and there.

"Is this... Is this real? Or are you just playing some kind of game?" he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. The vulnerability in his voice is undeniable, as if he's letting you see a side of him that he doesn't let just anyone see.

”Scott,” you say his name firmly, reaching up and cupping his cheek. “Why would I play with you?” Your thumb runs over his cheekbone. “This is real, all of it.”

Scott feels your touch on his cheek, and it sends a wave of emotion through him. The sight of your earnest expression, coupled with the soothing touch of your thumb, melts away any doubts he may have had.

Scott shakes himself out of his thoughts and fishes in his pocket for the key. He inserts the key into the lock and twists, opening the door and stepping aside to let you in.

He follows you inside, closing and locking the door behind him. The room is small and dimly lit, with a queen size bed taking up most of the space.

You reach out for his arm pulling him to you. He stumbles slightly, surprised by the strength in your pull. He stands before you, his body inches from yours, his eyes locked on yours. You capture his lips in a heated kiss.

Scott's thoughts are cut off as your lips crash against his in a hungry, heated kiss. His eyes widen in surprise, but it only takes a moment for his instincts to take over. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you against him as he returns the kiss with equal intensity.

He groans against your lips, his grip on you tight and possessive as he loses himself in the moment, you press your fingertips into his waist. Scott lets out a low growl, his body shuddering at the feeling of your fingertips on his skin. He looks at you, his eyes burning with a mixture of desire and frustration.

You press a kiss to his jaw. Scott's eyes flutter closed momentarily at the feel of your lips on his jaw. The touch is gentle and yet it sends a wave of heat through him. He lets out a gruff huff, his grip on your waist tightening as he tries to hold onto his composure.

You kiss his Adam’s apple, your hand sliding up his abs through his shirt. Scott's breath hitches at the feel of your lips on his skin, his body reacting with a mix of pleasure and longing. Your hand on his abs makes his muscles tense, his body instinctively arching into your touch.

He groans deeply, his resistance weakening as you continue to press kisses to his sensitive skin. "Damn it," he mutters gruffly, his voice strained. "You really know how to drive a man wild, don't you?"

”Scott..” you murmur against his neck, Scott's body trembles at the sound of his name on your lips. The feeling of your warm breath on his neck sends a shiver down his spine, awakening every nerve ending.

He closes his eyes, his head tilting back slightly as he mutters your name in response, his voice thick with longing. "Yeah, princess?"

”Sit down,” you reply softly. Scott's eyes open, the command in your voice catching him off guard. He looks at you, a mixture of surprise and curiosity on his face.

"Sit down?" he echoes gruffly, his confusion evident.

”Mhmm” you draw out, despite his surprise, Scott finds himself obeying your command, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He looks up at you, his eyes never leaving yours as he waits to see what you'll do next.

"I'm sitting," he mutters gruffly, his voice betraying a hint of anticipation. "Now what?"

”You're like a puppy,” you tease with a giggle. Scott's jaw muscles clench at your comment, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Did you just compare me to a puppy?" he grumbles gruffly. But despite his gruff exterior, there's a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He can't help but find your teasing endearing, even if he'd never admit it out loud.

You start slowly unbuttoning your shirt “You listen well, you have soft hair, and you’re cute. Just like a puppy.” you pull your shirt off, letting it fall to the ground. Scott's eyes widen as you start unbuttoning your shirt, his gaze immediately fixated on the exposed skin beneath.

His breath catches in his throat, and his hands clench into fists at his sides, resisting the urge to reach out and touch you. He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry. "You think I'm cute?" he mutters gruffly, his voice gruff as he tries to maintain his composure.

”The cutest,” you smile sweetly, stepping between his legs and bringing his hands to your bra. Scott's hands twitch slightly at the sudden warmth under his palms. The feel of your skin and the soft lace of your bra against his calloused hands sends a jolt of electricity through his body.

He looks up at you, his expression a mix of desire and surprise. His eyes rake over your body, taking in every inch of exposed skin, his mouth watering at the sight of you. "Damn," he groans, his voice husky. "You're beautiful, princess."

You bite your lip “Scott..” you look down at him, eyes full of lust and desire.

Scott's gaze is fixed on you, his eyes dark with desire and longing. He swallows hard, his throat dry as he registers the look in your eyes.

He tugs you closer, bringing his hands up to the small of your back, his palms pressing into your skin. "Say my name again," he mutters gruffly, his voice rough with need.

”Scott, touch me please..” you practically whine out in desire, Scott's body shudders at the sound of your voice, desperate and needy. Your plea sparks something within him, igniting a fire of desire that he can't hold back anymore.

He swallows hard, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he looks up at you. "You want me to touch you, princess?" he mutters gruffly, his hands roaming across your back, caressing your skin.

”Please,” you groan, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pull yourself closer to him.

Scott's breath hitches at the sound of your groaning plea, his heart racing in his chest. Your arms around his neck and your body pressed against him, pleading with him to touch you, it's driving him wild.

He leans his head forward, burying his face against your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he responds. "You don't have to beg, princess," he mutters gruffly in your ear. "I'll touch you as much as you want."

You settle into his laps, grinding down against him. “I really need you, Scottie.” You whisper into his ear. Scott's body jerks involuntarily as you settle onto his lap and grind against him. A guttural moan escapes his lips at the sound of your whispered plea, his hands immediately grabbing onto your hips, holding you against him.

He buries his face against your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "You need me, huh?" he mutters gruffly, his voice strained as he struggles to maintain control.

”More than anything.” You’re desperate for him to take complete control.

Your words, full of need and desperation, ignite a primal fire within Scott. He can't deny you any longer, can't resist the need to claim you, to give you everything you want.

He growls deeply, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he lifts you up and moves you further onto the bed, laying you down with a thump. He prowls over you, his eyes dark with unconcealed desire.

"You're gonna get what you want, princess," he mutters gruffly. "I'll give you everything you need." You moan at his words, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

Without breaking the kiss, Scott's hands start to explore your body, his fingertips tracing the lines of your waist, sliding up to the clasp of your bra. He fumbles with it for a moment, his urgency palpable, before finally releasing it.

The fabric falls away, revealing your bare breasts to his heated gaze. He groans into your mouth, his hands cupping you gently before his thumbs begin to tease your hardened nipples. The sensation sends a shock wave of pleasure through you, making your body arch off the bed.

His touch is rough but tender, each stroke setting your skin alight with a passion that's been smoldering between you for so long. You moan into his mouth, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as your kiss deepens. The room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing and the rustle of clothes being removed, the air thick with anticipation.

Scott's eyes never leave yours as he moves to kiss down your neck, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting more of you. The intensity of your connection is undeniable, a powerful force that's been building for too long, finally ready to be unleashed.

Scott's desperation is undeniable as he kisses you with a fervor that leaves you breathless. His hands roam over your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake as he peppers your skin with urgent kisses.

He moves down to your collarbone, sucking gently before moving to your breasts, taking one in his mouth and flicking the nipple with his tongue. The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, making you gasp. His teeth graze your skin, leaving a series of love bites that feel like a brand, marking you as his.

Each suck and nip is accompanied by a soft groan of satisfaction from him, the sound vibrating against your chest and making your toes curl. His mouth moves further down, leaving a path of love marks across your stomach and hips, as if he's claiming every inch of you.

His teeth sink into your skin harder now, leaving dark hickeys that will be a delicious secret between the two of you. Each mark is a declaration of his desire, a physical testament to the passion that's been simmering just beneath the surface for so long. His hunger for you is insatiable, and you can feel it in every touch, every kiss, every possessive groan that rumbles through his chest.

Scott slides down the bed, his eyes never leaving yours, until his face is level with your hips. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your pants and pulls them down along with your underwear in one swift motion, exposing your wet and eager sex to his gaze.

He takes a moment to appreciate the sight, licking his lips in anticipation. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs gruffly, his voice thick with desire. He leans in, his breath hot against your skin, and you can feel the heat of his gaze as he looks at you. His tongue darts out, teasing the outer folds of your pussy before delving deeper, tasting your sweetness.

You moan, arching your back, as he begins to eat you out with a passion that's both rough and tender. His tongue circles your clit, flicking and stroking, as his hands grip your thighs, holding you open for him. He's relentless, his mouth working you with an intensity that leaves you trembling.

Each stroke of his tongue sends a wave of pleasure through you, each suck making you moan louder. He's not gentle, but you don't want him to be. You want him to devour you, to claim you, and that's exactly what he does. You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge with every pass of his tongue, your body tightening in anticipation of the orgasm that's building within you. "Don't stop," you whimper, your voice needy.

He doubles his efforts, his tongue delving into your wetness, his teeth grazing your sensitive clit. The pleasure is almost too much to bear, but you want more, need more of him.

His hands move to your hips, his grip tightening as he laps at you, his tongue moving in rhythm with the pulsing of your desire. You're so close, so very close, and he knows it.

He slows down, teasing you, making you beg for the release that's just out of reach. And when you're on the brink, when you think you can't take it anymore, he speeds up again, sending you hurtling over the edge with a scream of pleasure that fills the room.

As the last waves of your orgasm ripple through your body, you pull Scott up to you, desperate for more of his touch, more of him inside you. Your hands are everywhere, tangling in his hair, gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer as you kiss him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips.

The room spins with the intensity of your need, and you can feel his erection pressing against your thigh, a testament to his own desire. You rock your hips against him, seeking the friction that will bring you both to the brink again.

He groans into your mouth, his hands sliding down to grip your ass, pulling you closer as he grinds against you. The raw need in your movements, the way your body responds to his, it's like nothing he's ever felt before. He breaks the kiss, panting heavily, his eyes locked on yours as he reaches for his own pants, fumbling with the zipper.

With a swift motion, he shoves his pants down, freeing his cock, which stands thick and hard, ready to claim you. He reaches for the nightstand, grabbing a condom and ripping it open with his teeth before rolling it on.

His gaze never leaves yours as he positions himself at your entrance, the head of his cock nudging against your wetness. You bite your lip, your eyes wide with anticipation, your body aching for him to fill you. "Are you ready, princess?" he asks, his voice a low growl.

You nod eagerly, and with one swift thrust, he's inside you, burying himself to the hilt. You cry out, your nails digging into his back as he stretches and fills you completely. He stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust to his size, before he starts to move, his hips pumping into yours with a rough, primal rhythm that matches the beat of your racing heart.

Each stroke is deep and demanding, claiming you over and over again, making you his in every way possible. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, your body moving in sync with his as the pleasure builds once more.

You're lost in the sensation, in the feeling of him inside you, the way he makes you feel so alive, so wanted. And as he continues to drive into you, you know that no matter what happens next, this moment will change everything.

Scott's groan deepens as he feels your body tighten around him, signaling your impending release. His thrusts become more urgent, his hips pistoning into yours with a force that shakes the bed. "Come for me, baby," he grunts, his voice a low, desperate growl that sends shivers down your spine.

You cling to him, your nails digging into his back as you arch up to meet each powerful stroke. The pressure inside you builds, coiling tighter and tighter until it snaps, sending a cascade of pleasure through your body. You scream out his name as you climax, your muscles spasming around his cock.

The sound of your pleasure is like music to his ears, pushing him over the edge as well. He drives into you one last time, burying himself deep as he releases, his entire body shaking with the force of his orgasm. For a moment, the only sounds in the room are the harsh gasps of your breathing and the wet slap of skin on skin.

Then, he collapses onto you, his weight a welcome warmth as your bodies come down from the high together. His forehead rests against yours, and you can feel his heart pounding in time with yours. "Fuck," he whispers gruffly, his voice filled with awe and wonder. "That was..." He trails off, unable to find the words to describe what just happened between you. You smile, feeling the same sense of amazement.

"Yeah," you murmur, your voice still shaky with aftershocks of pleasure. "It was." Scott's body trembles above you, his breathing heavy and ragged. He supports himself on his forearms, his weight pressing you into the bed. The heat radiating off of him, the feel of his skin against yours, is both overwhelming and exhilarating.

He looks down at you, his eyes burning with a mixture of desire, awe, and vulnerability. His rough exterior has cracked, revealing the man beneath - the one who desires you so fiercely.

"I don't think I've ever... felt anything like that before," he mutters gruffly, his voice raw with emotion. You smile, looking up at him lovingly.

”Yeah?” You hum sweetly, Scott nods, his eyes searching yours as he gazes down at you. He reaches out, his hand caressing your cheek, his touch gentle.

"Yeah," he mutters gruffly, his voice still hoarse. "I've never been as completely consumed by anyone the way I am with you. It's like..." He falters, struggling to find the right words to express what he's feeling.

You pull him down on the bed next to you, blushing at his words. “That’s a good thing, right?” Scott lets himself fall onto the bed next to you, his body molding against yours instinctively. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

He looks at you, his eyes soft and affectionate. "Of course it is, princess," he mutters gruffly, a small smile tugging at his lips. "It's the best damn thing I've ever felt."

”I’ll be right back,” you mumble against his ear, slowly pulling away from his warmth. You grab his shirt and bound off to the bathroom.

Scott lets out a low growl as you pull away from him, the sudden absence of your warmth against his body leaving him feeling cold and empty. He watches as you grab his shirt and head off to the bathroom.

He sits up in bed, his body still buzzing with the aftershocks of your intimate moment, his eyes following you until you disappear into the bathroom, he pulls his boxers back on.

You clean up your appearance, fixing your hair and smeared lipstick. You slip his shirt on, taking a deep breath of his musk.

He smooths his hair before he sits back against the headboard. His eyes focused on the door. You slip back out of the bathroom, smiling at him as you crawl into the bed with him.

Scott's heart rate increases as you slip out of the bathroom, his shirt covering your body. The thought of you wearing his clothes, surrounded by his scent, drives him wild.

He watches as you crawl into the bed with him, a small, appreciative smile forming on his lips. His arms immediately wrap around you, pulling you tight against him, his chest rumbling with a possessive growl.

"You look good in my shirt, princess," he mutters gruffly, his hands roaming across your body, exploring every inch of you.

“And you look good with a smile,” you kiss his cheek. Scott's cheeks flush slightly at your words, his gruff exterior momentarily slipping as he absorbs your praise.

He looks at you, his eyes warm and affectionate as he mutters gruffly, "You know how to melt a man's heart, huh?" He reaches out, his hand grabbing your chin, turning your head to look at him. "And you look even better in my bed," he adds, a sly smirk forming on his lips.

”Then I should stay in it more often.” You lean in kissing his soft lips. Scott's body hums with desire as you lean in and kiss him. His lips press against yours hungrily, his tongue slipping into your mouth, tasting you, claiming you. His hands roam across your body, pulling you even closer against him.

He mutters gruffly against your lips, "You should. And you should definitely wear my shirt more often."

”I’d be happy to, it smells just like you..” you cuddle into his chest, “It's like heaven.”

Scott's heart swells at your words, his chest puffing out with pride. He wraps his arms around you, holding you against him, his hands roaming across your back in slow, soothing circles.

"Heaven, huh?" he mutters gruffly, a hint of a smile in his voice you close your eyes with a content sigh.

”Can I sleep in your arms tonight?” You murmur against his chest.

Scott's heart skips a beat at your request, his arms instinctively tightening around you. The thought of holding you in his arms all night, keeping you safe and warm, is both overwhelming and soothing.