⋆· ༘* You Belong With Me !

“nobody is making you do this” i am driven by unnatural forces you will never even begin to comprehend

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬

Summary: In the volatile nature of tornado hunting, you crossed paths with Scott on more than one occasion–each time resulting in a piece of yourself being left behind with the man larger than the storms you chased. [Scott x Fem!Reader; Twisters] [wc: 15.7k]

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, pinv, oral (f receiving), angsty-romance, Scott is… a complicated asshole who reader can totally fix… right? Right!?

Quick Links: Masterlist

You weren’t sure where it ended or began, but you could feel it coming in your bones. Not the whirring of a drone or the rumbles of thunder—the fast, blistering speed of tires rolling toward the funnel that made your heart beat twice as fast as it did before.

It was tornado season after all… it never surprised you.

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

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

Not everyday was as exciting as the next, however.

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

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

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

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

Dexter bumped you again with a focused effort.

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

“I think we’re done for the day.”

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

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

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

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

Today was just one of those days.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hated the way it made you feel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

They were gluttons for greasy homemade meals.

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

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

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

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

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

Them.

You sipped on your iced tea casually.

“We will be heading in that direction anyway.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dani crunched the ice loudly. "You sure?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scoffed. “Wh—“

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

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

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

“Black, please.”

“Of course, honey.”

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

“And a… turkey sandwich with fries.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s been a minute.”

“Two weeks,” you agreed.

“You been counting?”

“No,” you said quickly. “I just—“

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

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

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

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

“Where are you off to?” He asked.

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

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

“You?” You asked him.

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

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

Scott nodded his head. “Motel?”

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

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

“Anything I can get you, hun?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sign, please.”

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

The motel was what you had dreamed about.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You ached for them nonetheless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No shit… really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s brutal.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “Me too.”

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

Scott patted your arm when the quiet became too much.

“Lay down,” he instructed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The change caught the words in your mouth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Move up,” he instructed, voice hoarse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But sometimes, something simple was enough.

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

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

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

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

Huffing, you were quick to lose the shirt.

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

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

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

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

You lazily drew your lips along his jaw to ear.

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

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

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

“I thought we said—“

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

Oh. You wanted to be fucked softly.

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

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

You were too far gone.

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

But you loved the sinful way it made you feel.

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

“You know I do,” he panted. You stroked him still.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

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

And he did as you asked.

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

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

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

Your head was swirling. You were full of him.

Each touch and each thrust was sending you toward a tether that was breaking string by string.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He watched you wither or waver, hands shifting to hold his face close to yours. You kept muttering nonsensical deliverances at your hips jutting up to join his. It was growing fierce—your end. The orgasm eating away at your resolve. Scott’s eyes were battering down on your own, nodding his head with eager anticipation of the rush of your finish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then his tether broke too.

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

Suddenly you weren’t going to remember the sex.

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

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

“How’s that for remembering?”

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

You ran your tongue over your lips to wet them. “Mm,” you thought. “I might forget what it feels like to be kissed?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe it had been dangerous to voice hope.

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

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

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

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

“To help you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Monday.”

“So that means you have to leave now?”

Oh Lord Almighty. You sounded pathetic. Knees pulled up to your chest, holding the pieces of you together as you became forgotten.

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

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

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

“Bullshit,” you let fall out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh Christ he made you fume.

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t ask to hate you.”

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

“You’re selfish,” you settled on.

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

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

And that pained you.

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

All you wanted was to have a good night. To be worshiped in a quiet space and he gave you that, even if brief.

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

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

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

“You can’t even bear to stay,” you whispered. For a second, you thought you saw clarity in those cloudy eyes. “You can’t even fucking hold me after what we did.”

“I have to leave. I can’t stay.”

“You don’t get it do you?”

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

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

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

And then he left without another word.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lily room nine.

Tyler room thirteen.

Dani room twenty-one.

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

“No shit,” Boone chuckled in disbelief.

The next few days were nothing but a blur.

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

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

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

And when you did, it was disappointing.

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

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

It started to eat at you, the avoidance.

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

Dani booed them from the stairs of the RV.

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

It peeved you to think he knew something was wrong.

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

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

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

Beside their trucks, Javi scoffed and shook his head.

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

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

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

There’s more to chasing than a fight.

“Yeah well, tell that to them.”

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

“They’ve been fine to me,” Kate defended. She watched as the so-called tornado wranglers bounced up from their seats and headed in her direction. The man with the bandana tried to coax you to join but you refused physically.

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

“Well it’s a two-way street.”

You go your way, and I’ll go mine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She chuckled and took it as a sign to approach.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y’all as in… us?”

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

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

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

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

Well it just so happened to be a Thursday.

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm.”

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

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

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

“Well I hope they can dance,” Javi .

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scott laughed, truly laughed at Tyler. Javi and Kate’s heads whipped around to Scott who rested an arm bent on the shelves beside him. Tyler focused on Scott in a labored calculation. He might have been the one they all liked the least.

“Did I say somethin’ funny?”

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

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

“Care to explain what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re entitled.

Stay in your lane.

You cared about everyone else too much.

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

And fuck, if you didn’t care about everyone else, you’d be a shell of a human. So hollow that your world would collapse.

By the laws of physics, you’d stay in motion. You’d keep going even if he pulled you backwards a million times.

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

“I’d love to go dancin’.”

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

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

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

It was tough to be the person you thought you were.

It was much easier to be a coward.

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

Boone whistled at the sight of everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tonight would be the hardest to not intersect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s your favorite?”

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

Dani nodded, taking a sip of her beer.

“Is it about your tinder date?”

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

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

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

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

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

Boone went suspiciously quiet beside you as she kept on.

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

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

“He wasn’t good? Oh—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No. No, I don’t think so.”

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

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

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

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

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

You downed the beer before you in a flash.

“Must’ve,” Dani agreed with a hum.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

“Why you bein’ so quiet?”

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

“You sure we don’t know him?”

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

And he locked in.

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

“I didn’t say she told you.”

“Well I’m just implying.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You saw them?”

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

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

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

“Dammit don’t say that!”

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

Yet he knew it was different somehow.

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

And anger had a distant cousin: jealousy.

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

“What?” You questioned each of them.

“Nothin’” Dani said quickly.

“Oh really?”

“Do you wanna dance?” Tyler asked you abruptly. You could see on his face that there was another thought lingering below the surface but didn’t prove.

“Right now?”

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

Tyler held out his hand to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That he’s staring at us right now.”

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

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

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

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

“No,” you said in soft resignation.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“How long?”

“Not long after we met them,” you confessed. About a year ago. Tyler whistled, his hand inched a bit lower on your back but it was still respectful, you didn’t mind.

“And something he did, said, isn’t sitting right?”

“No.”

“Do you want my advice?”

You stayed silent as he continued on. He let the music play out as you swayed. Javi and Kate joined on the floor and their giggles were noticeable from the short distance between you.

“Guys like him… they’re complicated. And I get it if you don’t want to hear it but I’ve been around guys like him my whole life. They can be selfish and unnerving and stupid. It’s like they’re trying to prove to the world that they’re fit to be in it.”

You couldn’t disagree.

“When they find a place that accepts them, they’ll rise to the top of it and not know what it’s like to be at the bottom anymore. They forget about people like us.”

“I think I changed my mind—“ you started to pull away but he tugged you back.

“I’m not telling you to let him go. He just hasn’t been put in a place of uncertainty in a long, long time.”

“He said I was entitled.”

“He’s a prick and I will beat his ass if you want me to.”

You smiled. “No. It’s ok.”

“I will do it, don’t underestimate me,” he smirked. “And by the way he watches you, that uncertainty is you.”

“What do you mean by it?”

“I think you might scare him a little, Doc.”

You did.

Scott’s heart rate rose significantly from the time he entered the bar, saw you, and had to watch you dance with Tyler. Those same words that replayed in your mind the last week surfaced as soon as he sat in the truck and the door was shut.

He was an ass. It was a part of him that he couldn’t escape from no matter how he tried. His memories delicately held onto the hours you shared where he felt he could be someone else.

Tyler kept glancing in the direction in which Scott sat as though to rub salt in the wound.

“Can we try not to frown today?” Kate saddled up in the seat beside him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile.”

“Normal people don’t walk around grinning.”

“No,” she kicked her feet. “But they do allow themselves to have fun.”

“I am.”

She blew raspberries as Javi poured the beer into their glasses. “You are a tough nut.”

“Never not one,” Javi agreed. “Just loosen up, man. The world is bigger than what we do.”

Scott breathed in a frustrated sigh. “I’m fine,” he pressed.

“Not since I’ve met you,” Kate suggested. She looked out into the sea of people. “Maybe we can just all take it easy tonight. Drink some beer, dance, and then find you someone to take home.”

Scott’s voice was muffled by the beer he drank but he shook off her suggestion. He didn’t even really know this girl who appeared to be a phenom of weather patterns. All she had done this week was disrupt their workings and fall on his irritation scale.

“I like the sound of that!” Javi encouraged. “When’s the last time you been laid, huh? 2015?”

Scott didn’t entertain it. He looked out onto the dance floor and saw you swaying with Tyler—a mix of concern and thankfulness levied on your face.

“Ok, ok… blink once if before or twice if after,” Javi continued at Kate’s amusement. “I’m serious, man. We’re gonna hook you up, alright? Kate’s got a six sense for pickin’ the right ones.”

Javi took his turn but the song changed to a favorite of Kate’s and his eyes lit up at the same time hers did. Call it a sign from the heavens, but Scott had been saved from the humiliation of his friend.

Kate dragged Javi to the floor not far from you and Tyler and it gave him protection to keep looking.

Tyler spun you close to Javi and Kate.

“We all have to face our fears,” Tyler told you. “If we don’t, they’re gonna prevent us from what we need in our lives.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that a book deal might be in your future? Words of Wisdom by everyone’s favorite tornado wrangler.” You emphasized with the sparkle of your fingers.

“That ain’t a half bad idea.”

“I’m full of great ideas.”

“Then start thinkin’ of one to remedy this. I love ya, I do. But if you let his shell break you, it will be a hell of a lot harder to handle the road.”

“Thank you, Tyler,” you said earnestly. “I wasn’t sure what any of you would say about it.”

“Well,” he racked his brain for the thought. “You remember that girl Dani was seein’ from Kansas? She might not have been the most perfect but she was perfect for Dani when she needed her. And maybe that’s Scott for you.”

The sound ended abruptly and the speakers let out a deafening tone. A bartender came onto the surround sound to kick off the line dancing that only Tyler could hype up more. Kate and Javi found themselves beside you both and everyone that could fit on the wooden floor ascended.

Tyler clapped his hands together as he stationed himself near the first line. You weren’t too confident in yourself even if you had been doing this since you could walk, so you settled in the spot behind him. Kate was jovial to stand next to Tyler. Her eyes twinkled and you thought back on his words.

Perfect for what was needed.

“OoO, my man!” Javi clapped Scott’s back in surprise as he joined on the floor.

Dani, Boone, and Lily ran to stand next to you, so Javi and Scott took the positions behind you. Dexter cheered everyone on from the table with Ben. The latter took his camera out with his finger on the shutter.

“Don’t step on our shoes now, you hear me?” Lily screeched over her shoulder to Javi and Scott. Feeling emboldened by the two glasses of beer he downed in a record time, Scott ran a hand through his hair.

“Don’t worry about it!” He shouted back.

“Ok Mr. MIT, come to show us how it’s done!” Lily drawled. She tugged on your arm—having missed the conversation prior. Dani’s smile dropped off her face fast.

“I say we place a bet!” She yelled over the music that was getting so loud. Your ears rung as the lights began to spin in different colors. Javi heard the bet and drew closer to Lily.

She pulled your arm with her, sticking you beside Scott. He put his hands on his hips and his elbow knocked your other arm.

“Twenty that he’ll fall on his face,” she suggested.

Javi looked at Scott and contemplated the idea. Scott was distracted by you standing there. He just stared, like a fish out of water in a town not far from one he visited as a kid.

You made him feel like a fish out of water.

“Deal!” You heard Javi agree and before Lily could shake his hand in a deal, you piped up.

“I bet with Javi!” She peeped at you surprised. “Forty says he can!”

Scott never had someone put trust in him like that. It was a damn good thing his mother taught him more than just math and science.

“Ok!” She yelled back, shaking both Javi and your hand.

Before you turned to take your spot as the music started, you took Scott in.

“Don’t disappoint me!” You shouted.

After the last few days, he couldn’t will himself to.

He shook his head, letting a smile grow to his eyes. Dani had never seen it before.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby!”

And Scott danced his fucking ass off.

You weren’t sure where it ended or began, but you could feel it coming in your bones.

Not the sounds of laughter in a confined space or the blaring of music—the rapid, unpredictable nature of dedication a person could not admit. It was a funnel cloud below the truck; a spiraling tire on the side of the road blasting its radius toward you.

The cool air at night hit your body like a bucket of water. The squealing of the door to the bar rattled at the force you used to push but it didn’t slam closed as you expected.

Two minutes ago, you were breathing heavily on the dance floor. The stomping rhythm of boots on wood turning your mind blank with every kick and turn. You had found the peace within the steps and let it drive you to a foundation.

Scott had gladly proved them all wrong—enjoying the surprised excitement that emitted from both his and your own team at the way he was able to, standing above six feet, move the way he did. He caught your smile more than once, a resurgence of hope filled him.

At the break of the song, you hung onto Lily’s arm, pointing to the door.

“I need some air,” you nearly heaved.

So you went for the door and he debated on whether to follow but in the business you took up, there was always the possibility of never having another moment.

And if he didn’t strike his fear now, he’d never do it.

“Hey,” he called out to you as the music started up again but you were too far gone. Already halfway to the door by the time he had made a decision. He tried calling out to you again, except his track was cut off by a sweaty Boone.

“Ex-“

“Don’t fucking hurt her,” Boone panted. His eyes pleaded for his friend, for you. “Don’t do it. Please.”

“I’m not—“

“You say you’re not but I’m sure you’ve said it before. But think about it, dude…” Boone got up in Scott’s personal space. “If a tornado hit this building right now and you were the only one left, would you be ok with how this ends?”

Scott saw the earnest plea in Boone’s call. He placed a hard, firm hand on Boone’s shoulder.

“I appreciate it, man.”

It was the first time Scott was decent to him.

Scott left him standing there near the entrance as he caught the door before it slammed closed. Outside, you stood in a cool down position in the orange-yellow glow of the parking lot.

His heart was beating out of his chest. It hadn’t felt that way in a week.

He wasn’t sure if you knew he had followed you. You didn’t turn around and didn’t acknowledge him as the silence overtook. Crickets strung their chords and cars whirled by on the road.

Scott leaned against the brick building under the neon lights with a knee bent.

“Do I scare you?”

You broke the silence after minutes had passed. You kept your back to him but he looked up, folding his arms across his broad chest.

If you turned around, you feared you wouldn’t be able to keep it together.

“Don’t lie to me,” you tried not to sound like a beggar. “Do I scare you?”

“Yeah,” he stated frankly. “Yeah you do.”

“Why?”

You could hear him breathe out. You imagined him looking around for an answer.

“There’s a million reasons why.”

“You can’t name one?” You took the chance to glance at him. His face was half illuminated by a moody blue glow of the neon sign.

“I can name plenty,” he reassured. “I just don’t know what’s too personal to say.”

“There’s no such thing.”

“Fine,” his fingers tapped on his bicep. “You scare me because this game we play doesn’t always feel like a game to me.”

The sex. The getting together in the middle of the night to whisper sweet nothings and cherish a deep connection to feel like it’s nothing the next day.

“You scare me because you’re smart and know what you’re doing when we’re just getting our heads straight.”

Your head tilted to the side at his honesty.

“You scare me because I feel something that maybe I shouldn’t. Because by some stupid chance I can’t have you, someone else will and I can’t imagine seeing them with you.”

Your chest tightened.

“I’m selfish to think that way,” he nodded. “You’re right about that.”

“I was talking about your work,” you confessed. “I think what you do is selfish.”

He didn’t say anything to that because he knew it was also true. Everything he sold to people was a fat lie to make money for a man who already had enough.

“You care about people too much,” he repeated. “And I don’t have enough people to put the care that I have into them.”

“You’re an asshole,” you told him and he nodded again.

“I’d have to agree.”

“You made me feel like shit.”

“I can’t take it back.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “For what I said and didn’t do. I was an asshole and you didn’t deserve it.”

His moody blues were turning the sky sad. A raindrop hit the ground between you.

“I don’t think I deserve your forgiveness,” he continued. “I’ve never been nice to your friends, or you, when we’re on the road. I dislike the way Tyler danced with you—made me want to knock his fucking teeth out but I figured you’d hate me more if I did.”

“He did that on purpose, you know.”

He shook his head, looking off into the grassland beyond the bar. You felt like you were being laid onto an altar for a choice. One that seemed easy but was hard, and one that was hard but the devil claimed it was easy.

“Figures,” he mumbled. “But I deserved it.”

“We’d have to agree there too.”

He looked up at you again. Arms still crossed, he undid them and extended a hand to you as an offering. Scott was not shocked by the hesitation in your steps.

“I think you have a lot of work to do, Scott.”

“I do.”

“And I don’t want to think this is all grandstanding to get into my bed.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m not one to give second chances,” you told him and he dropped his hand in his lap. “But I don’t think what we were doing constitutes as a first chance either.”

You walked toward him at your own volition. The gravel harsh under your heels, you settled with your toes at his. And you fiddled with the edges of the opening to his flannel no different than the collar in the diner.

“This is the only chance I’ll give you.”

Another raindrop fell.

“I don’t intend on wasting it.” Scott’s eyes flicked between your lips and eyes.

In the laws of physics, there is one to triumph above the rest.

The gravitational law states that if a particle exists, it will attract others to them unwillingly—it is simply the natural state of existence.

The pull is magnetic; impossible to pass by the will of your mind, body, or soul. It tugged at the heartstrings roughly. A bridge that connected people from everywhere to be in one singular place at the right time.

Scott’s gravitational pull was too powerful to withstand. It pulled every bit of you into him without remorse—it was blue, red, and the colors of the world within to bloom into spectacles you’d only see when your eyes were closed.

Scott’s hands found purchase on your waist, drawing you into his pull. One of your hands remained on his chest. His erratic heart beat no differently than your own and the other hand grasped his forearm.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in the night. “I’m sorry.”

You rested your forehead on his. “I know.”

The strength of his pull was strong. Yet it was not strong enough for you to pull your head back.

“Don’t prove I’m right,” you wanted him. He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Can I be selfish one more time?” He inquired with a gleam in his eyes. Scott ran his tongue over his lips expectantly.

“Oh,” you feigned innocence. “Well, I don’t know if that would—“

He cut you off as he brought his lips to yours, kissing you sweetly. His lips were warm and smelt of a faint cheap beer. Another raindrop fell and this time it hit your face. You ignored it.

You gripped onto his shirt with a fist as he deepened the kiss. Taking one of his hands from you, he cupped the side of your neck to position you as he pleased.

It started to rain in Enid.

In the rain, the laws of physics didn’t defy themselves. The rain soaked into your clothes and into his dark locks to drip onto his face more so than yours. The blue of the neon sign growing hot instead of cold.

You broke away from him, tracing the lines of his face.

“Don’t prove I’m right,” you repeated.

And he didn’t.

A/N: thanks for reading! As always comments, reblog, and likes are always appreciated. I love hearing from all of you and your reactions motivate us greatly!

how do you deal with the insane amount of imposter syndrome that comes with making art?

if i can't be the me that i think i should be, i just become something else

Who else up at this ungodly hour with an insatiable yearning that makes them sick to their stomach

˗ˏˋ ★ ──── 1 TO 100 ‼

「 “ 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘸𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘭𝘰𝘵. ” 」

eventual james potter x fem!reader; inevitable angst and annoyance as james slowly matures over his time at hogwarts. slowburn. total word count: 56.3K

2.7K | FIRST YEAR.

5.8K | SECOND YEAR.

2.7K | THIRD YEAR.

6.0K | FOURTH YEAR.

6.4K | FIFTH YEAR.

14.0K | SIXTH YEAR.

18.7K | SEVENTH YEAR.

where are all of my josh jenkinson girlies?? i feel like there are NONE OF YALL.

I’m sorry Ik request are closed but o really need a part 2 of Lando and Oscar

one for two / LN4 & OP81 / Part 2

Summary: Lando x female!Australian!McLaren marketing unit worker!reader x childhood best friend!Oscar - The drama ensues. Two Formula 1 drivers who just so happen to race for McLaren also just so happen to have fallen for you. Picks up straight after where part 1 left off. Takes place from Monaco GP 2024 to Spanish GP 2024. Short time frame, but a lot happens.

Warnings: mention of vomiting, crying, "I'll kill you" joke, swearing, very slight innuendo, if I missed anything let me know

Requested?: Yes, by this anon, everyone who answered in the poll in a way, and by @gracielukey

Author's Note: Fret not, I will be writing a part 3!

“Wait, Y/n, one second-” you hear behind you as a hand wraps itself around your arm. You look back to see Oscar Piastri beaming at you with a smile worth a ton of gold on his face. He’s out of his race suit and now back in regular street clothes: a black t-shirt, blue jeans, and an expensive black watch on his wrist. “I still haven’t given you your birthday gift yet.”

Oh, yeah, that’s right.

Earlier, when both McLaren boys had snatched each of your hands, pulling you in separate directions, both thoroughly excited to show you whatever gift they’ve gotten for you for your birthday, which just so happens to be today, the Monaco Grand Prix, you had shook them both off and waved them on to go do their PR duties.

For once in your life, as someone who is in marketing in McLaren, you got to do a fraction of your actual job concerning the two drivers, and not play the part of both their dramatic love interest.

Yet here you are again, looking back at a handsome Australian boy with earnest brown eyes, waiting for you to come with him so you can see your present.

You sigh, smiling. “Alright, Oscar. Show me this present of mine.”

He leads you to his driver’s room, where he holds the door for you to follow him in, and gently shuts it.

You have a jolting memory of the last time you were led into a driver’s room and the door was shut behind you, and the driver was saying he had something for you. It had been Lando’s driver’s room in Miami, after he won the race, and, well, you’ll never forget what the gift he had for you had been.

Lando’s kiss.

Though it didn’t really change anything at all, it seemed to change absolutely everything.

And now, just standing here, watching Oscar rummage around in his piles and bags of contained mess, you can’t help yourself from blushing as the memory floods back to you.

Oscar snaps you out of your dreams, though, when he straightens, holding up a small box that fits in his palm and a white envelope, and says, “Here… Don’t know if it’s your type of thing, but…”

“Jewelry?” you raise your eyebrows, eyeing the box.

He nods. “I don’t see you wearing jewelry a whole ton, but I thought you might really like this, regardless.”

You smile. “Usually I save it for special occasions, but I like wearing jewelry. Now, let’s see this card here…” He hands it to you, and you open it up. Oscar watches you intently as you begin reading his not-too-messy, not-too-neat handwriting.

Dear Y/n,

I just want to take this opportunity to say how much I appreciate you. You, as a person. Everything about you, I love. Your teasing, your jokes, your playfulness. Your hard work and dedication. You’re so understanding and kind. I love how gentle you are, yet also tough. You’re the perfect balance, for me and for anyone. You have the softest, most beautiful, caring heart, but a tough skin, too, and you can hold your own. You’re so strong and capable, too. I admire you in so many ways.

I love being with you. Time spent with you is my favorite time. Whether we’re just laying or sitting somewhere together, basking in each other’s silence and simply company, or going out somewhere, exploring someplace, and experiencing something together. I love it. I adore it. I love being with you.

Sometimes, I think about when we were little kids. I think about how we’d sit together and whine about how hard it is to be an older sibling, or how this or that rule by our parents was stupid. I remember playing with you, exploring. Even then, Y/n, we were forming a bond, and I think it’s beautiful. I hope we stay like this forever. Together.

I just want to be with you.

I remember as I got older and I moved, I missed you so much. So, so much. We stayed in touch, but you don’t know how much was missing without you always by my side. It’s like in a way you complete me.

I’m so glad that fate and time and whatever else all worked together that today, right now, you can be with me, on your twenty-third birthday. Twenty-three years, Y/n, I’ve known you. You’ve been my best friend. Somehow, we always keep running into each other. Like as if time and space and the universe knows we’re meant to be with each other, for each other, and it won’t let us be separated for too long. Like me and you have a magnet.

I love it, Y/n, and I hope you do, too.

I also love how beautiful you are. Your stunning eyes when they look straight into mine. The way you look over your shoulder and wink teasingly. The way your eyebrows scrunch together when you’re working hard or trying to figure something out. The way you flip your hair, the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you laugh, and the way your touch feels; I love every single little ‘way’ about you. You are it, everything I want. I don’t know what you feel, but I know that for years, I knew it.

I knew I’m supposed to be with you.

If you don’t think so, that’s okay. But just know what I know. Because for years I was terrified to say it, but now, I know.

I know this, Y/n:

I love you. I always have, and I always will.

Yours truly, Oscar Jack Piastri 5/26/24

As you read the last words, you feel a lump forming in your throat as you softly gasp, “Oscar…”

“I’m sorry if it’s a bit over the top,” he says right away with a slightly nervous chuckle. “I don’t mean to seem sappy. I should have just left it at ‘happy birthday’...”

“No, no-”

“I just had a lot to say, I guess,” Oscar mutters, glancing down. “A lot to say, to make up for the years of staying silent.”

“Oh, Oscar, stop!” you laugh, your voice cracking as you suddenly throw your arms around him in a tight embrace. You feel your eyes begin to water as you squeeze them shut tightly and bury your head in his shoulder, murmuring, “This is the sweetest thing I’ve ever read, Osc… You’re going to make me cry…”

As you hug him, it’s like a weight is lifted off his shoulders. He wraps his arms around you back, his hand slowly, absently beginning to rub your back.

You sniff a bit, whispering close to his ear, “That’s just about the most beautiful thing I’ve read… Oscar, I- I, um… I-” love you, too, your brain screams, begging your lips to form the words. You love him, Y/n. You know you do. Just say the words. Just say them.

But you finish with, “I- Thank you so much, Oscar. Thank you.”

He nods, resting his cheek on your head for a few seconds, before murmuring, “Why don’t you open the gift now?”

You nod, slowly leaning away. You mop up your eyes with your hands before taking the box. You slowly open it and gasp when you see a sparkling green gemstone inside, attached to a golden chain. “Oscar…” you breathe. “It’s beautiful…” You slowly begin taking it out of the box.

“Emerald, for May, on a gold necklace chain.”

You stop taking it out of the box to freeze and look up in surprise, eyes wide. “Real emerald? Real gold?!”

“Yes,” Oscar chuckles. “Yes, Y/n. It’s a real emerald on a real gold chain.”

Your jaw drops as you blubber, “Oscar… Oh my God, Oscar… you didn’t have to…”

“I think you’ve forgotten I can afford it. And I would spend any amount of money, if it was for you. But do you like it?”

“What do you mean?!” you exclaim. “What sort of question is that? Of course I like it! I love it!”

At that, the young McLaren driver immediately beams. “Here- want me to put it on you?” You nod vigorously, so Oscar takes the necklace gently from your hands and reaches around your neck to clasp it on you. You feel his soft hands briefly brush the skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine, before he takes them away and leans back to view you. “It looks lovely on you. Compliments your features.”

“You really think so?”

He grins with a soft chuckle. “Y/n, I know so.”

Once you’re done sitting with Oscar for a bit after that, just being with him, you exit his driver’s room into the hallway with a tired but contented sigh. You tuck Oscar’s note and the box the necklace came in into your pants pocket, about to get going and continue on with your life, when, once again, you’re interrupted.

You suddenly feel two strong arms wrapping around you from behind as the scent of Lando’s cologne fills your nostrils. He leans close to your ear, rocking you a bit, before murmuring in a gentle, concerned voice, “Hey, Y/n… How are you?”

You smile softly, feeling his warmth against your back. “I’m alright,” you sigh, your head still slightly in the clouds about Oscar’s note and gift.

Lando unwraps his arms from around you and gently guides you by your shoulders to turn around and face him. “What were you doing, hm?” he suddenly asks softly.

“What do you mean?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing.

“In Oscar’s driver’s room. I saw you leave.” His tone is in no way accusatory. Just genuinely concerned.

“Nothing,” you frown, licking your lips. “Why do you care?”

He crosses his arms, the concern mostly falling off his face now as he says simply, reaching up to drag his thumb under your eye, “Because of this.” He holds up his thumb to show the chalky smeared mascara on it. “And because of the redness around your eyes. Are you okay?” The concern comes flooding back as he lifts his other hand to gently touch your cheek. “Did something happen? Did Oscar do something? Y/n, you know you can tell me. You know you can trust me.”

But you can’t help yourself but chuckle. In a way, it’s sweet how caring and worried Lando is acting, looking out for you like that. But also kind of funny that Lando thinks Oscar Piastri even has the capacity to do you any harm, at least not on purpose. So you say, “No, no, Lando! Don’t worry! I’m not upset! Those were happy tears!”

Lando doesn’t look much less concerned, though. “What made you so happy?” he asks carefully.

You sigh, figuring there’s no reason to not tell Lando, at least partially the truth. “Oscar just gave me a super sweet birthday gift is all.”

“Oh,” Lando nods slowly. “What was it?”

You smile and point at the necklace hanging around your neck, resting perfectly in the middle of your chest. “This…”

“Oh,” Lando says again, this time more impressed, looking down at it. “That… It looks beautiful on you.”

You smile wider. “Thanks.”

But then the British man swallows. “I know you’re probably tired and wanting to get back to your hotel room, but I have a gift for you, too.”

“Just make sure it’s not a kiss this time,” you softly tease. “I don’t think my heart can take it right now.”

“No, no, of course not. I actually bought you something for your birthday!” the Brit chuckles, his hand naturally falling to the small of your back as he leads you to his driver’s room. He keeps the door hanging open, though, and you’re sure that’s intentional, to give you more of a sense of reassurance. You appreciate it. “Alright!” he says, clapping his hands together. “Close your eyes and hold out your hands.” You shrug and obey, doing so. You feel him place some light, small item in your hand, before he says, “Alright! Open!”

You chuckle as you open your eyes, teasing, “What was the point of having me close my eyes?”

“So it was a surprise! Now look at what I got you, for God’s sake, Y/n!” he rolls his eyes jokingly.

You look down at the little card in your hand, shaped like a credit card. You bring it to your face and study it, until your eyes widen when you recognize what it is. “Lando, is this…?”

He grins broader as he sees the sparkle in your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. It is.”

“You didn’t have to!” you laugh. A gift card for a free weekend to a luxury spa. You’ve often told Lando how nice it’d be to have a spa day, just relaxing and letting the weight off your shoulders.

But you weren’t expecting it as a birthday gift! And you definitely weren't expecting some expensive luxurious place, and for a whole weekend!

“And,” he smiles, reaching in his pocket to pull out a second, identical card which he places in your hand, too, “A second one, because I figured it’d be no fun alone, so you could bring one of your girl friends or something.”

You throw your arms around Lando and peck his cheek, which is a lot more of an easy thing to do with Lando than it is with Oscar. Oscar, you’re more emotionally connected with. But physically and romantically, you’re a lot more connected to Lando. Lando giggles as you exclaim, “How’d you even think to do this?”

He shrugs. “You talk about it. And you work constantly, so damn hard, you deserve a break. You don’t get enough credit for all you do. Take a weekend to just relax and enjoy, hm?”

You smile and shut your eyes, nuzzling your face into his neck, loving the sentiment, loving the gift, and loving Lando’s attitude in recognizing how hard you do work.

It feels so good to simply be appreciated.

The day after the Monaco Grand Prix, that Monday, Oscar texts you, asking you if you'd like the meet up before you have to go back to the U.K.

You're leaving tomorrow, so it had to be a yes.

Now you sit next to Oscar in his car, in the parking lot, as you buckle your seat belt and Oscar absently drums his fingers on the steering wheel.

Finally you break the silence with, "So, what's the plan, Stan?"

"Um..." Oscar begins, and just by one quick glance, you can see the deep thought written across his face as he looks forward out the windshield.

And you're right. The Aussie's thoughts are raging, about only one thing. And that thing, of course, being you.

He bites his lip, feeling a pang of slight desperation, but mostly just indescision.

He thought the nice note he wrote you for your birthday would've... given more of a reaction. Or maybe the necklace would've pulled at your heartstrings a little more. Just... Just a hug felt wrong to Oscar.

Why doesn't she love me back?

I whisper of a thought in his mind responds, Maybe it's got to do with Lando. Maybe she just simply doesn't love you because she loves Lando more.

He swallows a lump in his throat, pushing that thought out of his mind with, No, Oscar. She said she's got nothing more with Lando than she's got with you. You need to trust her. You know you love her. Therefore, trust her.

Of course, naturally, Oscar has no idea that he really shouldn't trust you.

Prompted by his thoughts, Oscar suddenly asks you, ignoring your own question, "Did Lando get you anything for your birthday? Just asking, because, you know, he had said he had something...?"

"Oh, yeah!" you exclaim. Oscar can't help but recognize the way your face lights up at the mention of merely Lando's name. You continue, "He got me a free weekend to a spa for two people!"

"Oh. You're going to a spa with him?" Oscar says slightly absently.

You laugh. "No, he suggested probably one of my friends. Lando would've told me if he wanted to go."

"Ah, right. Of course."

"Oscar?" you suddenly say, concerned, leaning closer. You place your hand on top of Oscar's drumming fingers on the wheel, forcing the nervous movement to stop. "Is something wrong?"

"Hmmm..." he sighs. Oscar, you've just got to make a move. A real move. Lando is loud, impulsive, fun. He wouldn't second guess.

Maybe you should take a hint from Lando.

Maybe she just needs to see, feel, experience me.

That doesn't sound right.

That doesn't sound like me.

Oscar closes his eyes, leaning back, entwining his fingers around your hand.

I'm not Lando Norris. So is that it?

That's it. I'm just not Lando Norris.

But despite the proclamation in his head, he snaps himself out of it. "Just... thinking back on the race. Sorry."

"Are you sure you're okay, Osc?" you lean in, more concerned.

It's like Oscar can feel his heart being squeezed, warmed. And another, louder, sudden thought enters his mind:

You won't let her go, Oscar, and you know that. You'll fight for her. You'll change for her.

You'll never be Lando Norris, but maybe you've just got to quit overthinking and start acting.

"Alright!" he says, a quite sudden smile appearing on his face as he squeezes your hand. "Yeah, I'm sure." He smiles, bringing your hand to his mouth to gently kiss the back of it.

He doesn't really see the blush on your cheeks when he does that.

He lets go of your hand and says, "Alrighty, let's go. I've got somewhere to bring you."

When you get to the destination, you laugh. "Oscar, it's just a park! You made it seem like you had this big thing planned."

"Oh," he smiles a bit. "Well, sorry. Do you have something against parks?"

"No- I'm just saying-"

"Yes, sure, whatever." He suddenly snatches your hand as he says, "Let's just go for a nice walk."

It's not common for Oscar to just take your hand like that, so confidently. Lando? Sure, all the time. But not really Oscar...

But you kind of like it.

As you walk, you just chat, until you're sure you've walked the entirety of Monaco before Oscar finally gestures to a lone bench in a solitary area, and you sit down together, hands still latched.

But you let go of his, saying with a chuckle, "I just... You know, my hands are sweaty."

"Oh, sure, of course. Mine probably are, too," he responds, running a hand through his hair.

You watch him intently as he does this, and reply a few seconds too late, "Oh, no, no, they're not! I like your hands."

And you immediately blush at the fact you actually just told Oscar Piastri that.

But he looks over with that little crooked teasing smile of his and says, "Do you?"

You grin back and shrug. "Hell yeah."

"Hm. I'll keep that in mind, then."

That makes your mind immediately wander to what he could mean, and you feel bad for what you immediately think of.

Regardless, your face flushes.

And then Oscar makes the decision that he's wanted to make for months, and probably years. His twinkling eye meets yours as he says, "You like my hands? Well I like your lips."

Your breath catches and butterflies well up in your stomach as Oscar leans in closer. His hand gently cups your chin as he looks you straight in your eyes, his softening by the second.

In the exact moment that he should just lean in and kiss you, he hesitates and asks, "Is it okay if I-"

"Oscar! Yes!" you say without thinking.

Yeah, yeah. There you go again. Not thinking again, in the exact moments that you should think about it the most.

Oscar leans in, his head tilting to the side slightly as his soft lips meet yours. Your head spins as he strokes your cheek.

It's not too long and not too short. He pulls away, gazing warmly into your eyes.

There was something different about Oscar's kiss. Lando kissed you and kept kissing you, as if he couldn't get enough. Oscar stopped as soon as he knew it was the perfect time for both of you to pull away. Lando's kiss was hungry, Oscar's wasn't really. He enjoyed it, but...

You don't know.

Oscar's more romantic.

You feel simply by the way he looks at you...

You feel like a jewel. You feel beautiful.

Physically, Lando's kiss was probably better. But emotionally, Oscar's...?

You never knew Oscar could be this romantic. But, to be honest with yourself, Lando's kiss was hotter. Sexier.

God, you loved both.

You groan, falling into Oscar, throwing your arms around him.

Y/n! Y/n! You're comparing the kissing styles of the two guys you kissed without the other knowing!

They both think you're theirs!

"Are you okay?" Oscar immediately asks. "Listen, I'm sorry- Oh, God, listen-"

"No! Oscar, thank you..." you blurt shakily, leaning back to look at him.

"Uh... you're welcome..." He falters, before saying, "So... does this mean you want to be my girlfriend?"

Oh, God.

"Oh, uh, I don't think I'm ready for that- uh-" you begin nervously.

"Right," comes the brown eyed boy's curt response.

Oscar Piastri's vague clean scent fills your nostrils. Or perhaps it's the clean hotel sheets you lay in next to him. His soft touch massages your hand as you hum a song.

You know all the words, but you forgot the tune.

In another reality, he would kiss you and hold you and call you his. You would say without a fragment of a doubt that you are his girlfriend.

Like an arrow to your heart, his voice asks you once more: "Does this mean you want to be my girlfriend?"

You're leaning against his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat, British voice speaking but saying nothing, and you begin, "Oh, uh, I-"

You wake up with a start, gasping. The last thing you remember of your dream was laying with Lando, about to tell him you love him.

What the hell, Y/n?

“What’s up?” you ask as you answer your vibrating cellphone.

Lando Norris on the other end responds, “Nothing much. What’s up with you.”

“Dunno. Just packing up to get ready to be leaving Monaco. But why’d you call?”

“Hey, whoa, whoa,” Lando suddenly says. “Why’re you leaving Monaco so early? Come on, now!”

You sigh with a little smile, rolling your eyes as you throw another shirt in your suitcase. “Lando, this country is uber expensive. There’s no way I’m staying here any longer than I have to. The hotel price is ridiculous, and the rest of the team is leaving, anyway.”

Lando tsks before saying, “Come on, now. You won’t have to pay for a hotel room for extra days, you know. You can stay at my place, duh.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, Lando. You really want me to stay in Monaco.”

“Of course I do. But you know I’d let you stay at my place anytime.”

“Mmmhm. I know…”

“So? What do you say?” Lando asks.

You hesitate, before saying, "Lan, I already told the team I'd be leaving on the plane with them..."

“For God’s sake, Y/n, then tell them you’re not, check out of that damn hotel room, and c’mere!”

“Come where?!” you ask in slight exasperation.

“Where do you think? My flat!”

“Alright, alright, I’ll do that, jeez. Text me your address. But God, why are you getting so worked up about this?”

There’s more silence before the Monaco resident says softer, “I just really want to see you, is all.”

You raise your eyebrows and say softer as you zip up your suitcase. “That’s it?”

“Yeah,” he snorts. “Not good enough for you, princess?” he teases.

“No,” you breathe, a slight smile forming on your face as warmth spreads across it. “No, that’s perfectly, one hundred percent, all the way, good enough for me.”

“Good.” You can hear the grin in Lando’s voice. “Then I’ll see you in a bit, you beauty.”

When you arrive at his flat and he opens the door, Lando wraps his arms around you, patting your back, before letting you go. “Hey, wanna come to the living room?”

“Sure,” you nod, taking in the rooms you go through as he leads you to the living space. You’ve never been in Lando’s flat before, but you have to say, it is thoroughly impressive. Soon, you’re in the living room, and the two of you plop down on the couch together. You sink into it and lean back, saying, “This is comfy.”

Lando just takes your hand and says, “Thanks.”

But you look up at him with a soft teasing smile. “So, are you going to tell me why on earth you suddenly got so clingy? You’re acting like we haven’t seen each other in three years! Just as a reminder, it was just two days ago.”

But Lando smirks, shrugging, and says teasingly, “Maybe I’m just a little obsessed…?”

“Obsessed?” you smile wider, leaning your head onto his shoulder. “Oh, don’t flatter me.”

“Aw, why not? You’re cute when you’re blushing…”

“Lando, stop,” you snort, then add, “We’re supposed to be friends. I don’t think friends say this kind of shit to each other.”

“I like the way you say, ‘we’re supposed to be,’” the race car driver begins.

“Lando! We are friends, and that’s all we’ll ever be!” you respond firmer, but deep down, you have your doubts. Your extreme doubts. Because being with Lando, it never feels like a friendship anymore, and you both know everyday you get closer and closer to finally just admitting you’re dating.

And the only reason why you haven’t yet is because of the certain someone in the way. Oscar Piastri, the sweet Australian boy from your childhood and teenage dreams.

Who kissed you like he meant it yesterday at around this time.

You feel your stomach lurch at the thought.

How can I so shamelessly act like this with Lando, when I know twenty-four hours ago I kissed Oscar back?

You jump when Lando says, almost as if he could hear your thoughts, “Is something wrong?"

You look up in slight surprise, eyes wide. “Uh- of course not. Why do you ask?"

But Lando's frown deepens. "Y/n, stop that. You know I know you're lying. I can see it on your face when something is bothering you."

You bite your lip. "Nothing is."

Lando heaves a big sigh before suddenly pulling you into his lap.

You flinch and lean away in extreme embarrassment, "Lando, what-"

"Just let me hug you, hm? You always say you're fine when you're not and I just want to help you. Let me at least hug you."

You sigh deeply and slowly let yourself lean into him. He strokes your hairline gently, and begins rambling. Lando Rambling, but in a gentle whisper.

You swallow back the huge lump in your throat, and despite your squeezed shut eyes and your raging mind, it's nice.

Until Lando is gently shaking you, and your eyes flutter open as you realize you had fallen into a calm, dreamless sleep against him. You feel his soft, nearly heavenly chuckle vibrating in your ear before you lean your head off his chest slowly. "Rise and shine, princess. You went right to sleep."

You yawn. "Shit, sorry about that..."

But Lando beams. "It's okay. It was cute. And do you feel a bit better now?"

You sigh and nod. "Yeah. I do, actually."

"Good," he grins, eyes twinkling, and leans in to give you a kiss on your cheek. "You probably just needed a nice big long nap."

You sigh.

If only it was as simple as that, Lando.

When I'm with Oscar, he seems like the obvious choice. But then I'm with Lando and he's so sweet and caring and loving and understanding and lighthearted and fun and handsome and perfect and-

And then he seems like the obvious choice.

Oh, Oscar. I couldn't stand to break your heart of gold, though.

And suddenly you freeze as Lando seems to read your mind for a second time, his voice saying softly near your ear, "Is it okay if I call Oscar?"

You snap your head back to meet Lando's eyes. "What reason have you got to call Oscar...?"

“So he can come over.”

You stare at him like he’s the craziest man alive. “Come again?”

“So he can come over and join us, Y/n. But you heard me the first time.”

“What’s your problem?” you asked quite bluntly.

“What’s yours?”

You stare at Lando, completely at a loss for words. Feeling slightly called out, to be honest. You breath deeply, before, with much effort, finally forming the sentence under Lando’s expectant gaze, “Lando, you know that Oscar thinks we’re dating. Even though we’re obviously not. If Oscar shows up… Lando, there’s too much drama you don’t know about. That wouldn’t-”

Lando raises his eyebrows, unimpressed, and says, “I know more than you think I do.”

You swallow, anxiously licking your lips. “Why do you want Osc over?”

“I’ve got some things to talk about with you. And him. With the two of you.”

Your face scrunches up as you ask hopefully, “About work?”

“Nope,” Lando says sternly as he opens his phone, scrolling his contacts, looking for Oscar’s.

You’re starting to get nervous. Real nervous. “Lando, please,” you begin, your voice laced with a certain amount of fear as you take the man’s hand. “Lando, what are you trying to do? Why? Lando, I… I’m not ready… Can you talk to me first?”

Lando looks up at you. “You clearly know what I’m doing, then, otherwise you wouldn’t be so panicked.”

“Of course I do…” you breathe. How the hell did it come to this?

Why did I think Lando was stupider than this? To not see the writing on the wall? To not see what’s clear as day?

Lando leans in closer, wrapping both his hands around yours. He stares you straight in your eyes. Everything about his actions is gentle, but his voice is painfully stern as he begins nearly whispering, “Y/n. I’m sick of this, and Oscar is, too. And you’ve had enough of this, too, whether you think you have or you haven't. I understand to a certain degree what’s been going on, but I don’t think Oscar has allowed himself to. We need to, the three of us, talk this over and figure this out. Pretending isn’t going to do you any good any longer, Y/n. And I think me and Oscar can both agree on the fact that we just want the best for you, yeah? So I know this is hard, but if you wait any longer, the situation will just get worse and worse. And now I’ve figured you out, so let’s just deal with this together, the three of us, and be honest. Okay?”

You hesitate as your eyes start to water.

You feel like you want to throw up.

I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted it to come to this. I just wanted it to work itself out on it’s own. I didn’t want Lando or Oscar to know. I wanted to figure it out alone.

“Lando,” you sniff, your voice cracking. Lando leans over to one of the end tables to grab a tissue, which he uses to wipe a tear rolling down your cheek. As you continue to cry, he hands the tissue to you and begins holding your hand as you use the other to rest your heavy head against it.

You sit there together for a while as you just cry, working through the emotions of the last months. Once you’re finally done, Lando says gently, “It might not get any easier, but please, Y/n. If you’re honest with me and Oscar, I hope you know that we’ll always be ready to help you and be there for you.”

“I know that…” you sniff. “It’s just… I don’t want to lose either of you, Lando. I can’t stand to imagine losing either of you.”

Lando nods slowly, and murmurs, “I can’t speak for Oscar, but just so you know, whatever happens, no matter what, you’ll always be my friend. And I’ll always be there for you. M’kay?”

You nod slowly, wiping your eyes one last time, those words providing just enough comfort for the time being.

“Alright,” Lando says, gently patting your hand. “Can I call Oscar? I’m sure I’ll be able to convince him to come over.”

“Yeah,” you smile weakly. “Unless he’s still sleeping.”

Lando nods and grins as he picks up his phone again to call Oscar Piastri.

When Lando goes to open the door, you follow close behind him, fiddling with your fingers anxiously. When he does open it, a surprised Oscar immediately sees you behind him and exclaims your name in shock. "Why are you here?"

"I invited her, too," Lando replies confidently, as if this is all completely normal, looking Oscar straight in his sweet brown eyes.

"Ah," Oscar nods slowly. "I can see that." He smiles awkwardly at you as Lando brings him in. He mostly just looks thoroughly confused, but doesn't take his eyes off you for a second.

Soon, you're all seated around Lando's dining room table, you and Oscar on one side, facing a lone Lando on the other side, feeling like you're about to be interrogated.

While Lando doesn't ask, 'Where were you at the time of the murder?' he does say, "I think we've all got some thing to be honest about. Oscar, I mentioned it on the phone to you, but I think all three of us have got some... stuff to discuss."

Neither you or Oscar say anything. You're too nervous to speak, and Oscar's too confused.

Lando sighs, seeing neither you or Oscar have nothing much to say, and says, "Alright, then." He slaps his palms down on the table. "Oscar, you and Y/n... You'd like to date her, yeah?"

Immediately Oscar's eyes widen, and his hand tightens around his cellphone in his hand as his pale cheeks redden. "I- What sort of-"

"Do you?"

"Yeah," Oscar admits carefully, but sort of bluntly.

"I'd like to date Y/n, too."

Oscar stares at Lando. His grip on his phone tightens slightly, but that's the only sign of a reaction his body shows as he says softer, "Well, of course."

Lando's gaze averts to you.

You sigh. The awkwardness in the air is making it stuffy and hard to breathe. The tension in the room is thick enough to cut.

"Y/n?" Lando prompts.

Your words get caught in your throat, and instead comes out a weak cough.

Apparently Oscar takes it as a sob, because immediately his hand is on your back, and he's leaning close, saying softly, "Y/n. Are you okay?"

As you bury your face in your hands and nod, you don't catch the dirty look Oscar throws Lando, and Lando's effort to ignore it. Once you've caught your breath, you barely get out, "I love you both."

Oscar's hand slips off your back as Lando reaches across the table to take your hand in his.

"I- you-" Oscar begins, before his eyes turn on Lando. "You knew about this, Lando? You knew?" You can feel the stress and, frankly, anger, radiating off of him as Oscar says, turning to you, "Y/n, I told you if you loved Lando, you could let me go. I would've taken it..." He runs a hand through his hair. "I would've. Y/n, I swear I would've. Why'd you have to play with my heartstrings? Why'd you do that, Y/n? Why'd you do that to m-"

"Oscar, stop!" Lando suddenly snaps, standing up. "Don't you see the state she's in? This is harder for her than it is for you!"

"Just stop fighting," you barely whisper.

Neither men hear you as Lando grabs Oscar's wrist and tells you sternly, "Y/n, you just stay here. I'm gonna go talk with Oscar alone, if that's fine."

But Lando doesn't wait for your input before he tugs Oscar out of the room and slams the door behind him. You suppose it wouldn't matter much anyway. It's not like you would have any idea what to say, anyway, if you'd have been given the chance.

You stare ahead in a strange mixture of regret and dread. Fear of past decisions and fear of future decisions, too.

After the door slams, unbeknownst to you, Lando immediately shoves Oscar against the wall and snaps, "What the hell, man?"

A long breath exits Oscar's lungs as he stares back into Lando's hazel eyes. "What?" he sighs.

"Don't you see she's in distress? Give the girl a break-"

"I need to give her a break? Lando, I kissed her. Do you think I would've fucking done that if I knew she was seeing you? We can both say it was all friendships all along, but we also both know this's bullshit." Oscar gulps before muttering, "She's a fucking cheater."

"No, she's not!" Lando suddenly defends. "You just don't understand."

"Yeah! Clearly I don't," Oscar says gruffly.

"So are you going to let me explain what I think went on?"

"Why don't we hear it straight from her? You could very well be biased."

"Do you think she wants to say it? Oscar," Lando sighs. "Won't you just listen to me?"

Lando watches as the Australian bites his lip, before saying, "Have you kissed?"

"Once."

"Same..." Oscar hesitates once more before asking, "So it's just the 'friend' thing? She's in love with both of us so she's been convincing herself she can stay both our friends forever."

"Well... right. And neither of us knew that was going on, and... Yeah, you know."

"How'd you find out?"

"It became too obvious. But Oscar, you've had your suspicions before the beginning."

Oscar sighs, staring down. "Right. So. She denied it because she loved us both."

"That's what I'm reckoning."

"What did she think she'd accomplish? Why did she think letting that happen would do any good? We both thought she was single. And technically, she was, but not really, because, we- you- I- you- you know..." Oscar trails off before dragging his hand across his face and leaving it over his eyes. "Oh, God."

"It's complicated," Lando nearly whispers.

"You... You can say that again..." Oscar breathes, his voice cracking as his other hand goes to his face, his pointer and middle finger pressing hard into his temple.

"Oscar?" Lando suddenly asks, his hand resting on the younger man's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Shit... I don't know..."

"Oscar, are you-"

"No- I mean, I am, but-"

Oscar is interrupted by Lando's arms suddenly wrapping around him in a hug and Lando murmuring, "Now both of you are crying?"

Oscar, despite himself, finds his face falling into Lando's shoulder as he begins, his voice just slightly hoarse, "I'm not crying, by the way. It's just... Lando, I've been in love with her for years; I swear, probably a decade by now. And I've known her literally my whole life. A part of me just always expected she'd always be there and I'd always just... that I'd always have enough time to wake up one morning and ask her out. I should have done it quite literally years ago. But I didn't and that's why we're here now, me feeling as if I have more of a right to her love, though really, I'm not worthy of her at all." Oscar lets out a shakily breath before adding, "I regret it so, so much, Lando."

Lando's arms around him tighten. "I'm so sorry."

"You don't have anything to apologize for."

"Osc, I just want her to be happy. But I know her dating me isn't the solution. Because she'd be devastated to date me but not you, and vise versa. She's head over heels for us both."

Oscar gulps. "Well, then what the hell do you suggest?" He leans away from Lando, wiping at his eyes with his thumb.

"Oh, Oscar," Lando sighs deeply. "I don't fucking know."

After that, the two stand in silent contemplation, worrying, pondering. Feeling. Emotion. Passion. Pain.

Before Lando finally says carefully, as if walking on eggshells, "...What if we both dated her...? Just kept doing what we've been doing, but the other one knows about it, so she doesn't have to feel guilty about it, but we both still... you know, get to date her?"

Oscar bites his lip. "Couldn't that get complicated?"

"Of course it could..." Lando trails off, before picking up more positively, "But sometimes the easier way isn't the right way, Oscar. We both know it'd make her happier to date us both. And we both know we'd both be happier if we could date her, yeah?"

Oscar's silent, considering, his eyes slightly glazed over, despite the battle that's going on inside his mind.

"Osc...? Osc, please, mate. I think it's the best shot we've got. It'd mean the world to me-"

"Yeah," Oscar suddenly interrupts with a nod, leaning off the hallway's wall. "Yeah, I get what you're saying. We can try that Lando," he says curtly, almost hollowly as he suddenly reaches for the door handle back to the dining room where you sit.

But right before his hand meets the knob, Lando snatches it away in his own, pulling Oscar to face him again.

Oscar can't help but feel awkward at how close his face is to the other Formula 1 driver's, and averts his eyes to the floor because of this.

But Lando responds simply, "Oscar, look at me. In my eyes."

Oscar sighs and looks up, meeting the strong eyes of Lando Norris. "What?" he barely whispers.

"Thank you so much, okay?" Lando murmurs, squeezing Oscar's hand.

To Oscar, everything seems wrong. Why is he standing with his teammate, his rival, this close, holding hands, with such intense eye contact? This should be just him and you. Lando shouldn't be a part of this.

How was he so stupid to let Lando ruin it all?

Oscar, just try to trust Lando? Maybe he's right? You can conform for now, but don't conform with malice. Only allow yourself to feel anger towards Lando after it all falls apart because of him.

"'Kay," Oscar mutters back.

"And, listen, Oscar. I hope you know you can trust me. I care about you, too. So much. I like you so much. So, please. Just be real with me. M'kay?"

"Of course... Can we go back and see Y/n now?" Oscar mumbles, feeling slightly uncomfortable at Lando's extreme sincerity.

Alright, maybe more than just slightly uncomfortable.

"Sure," Lando nods, and the two men come walking back in.

They sit down, and once they've finished explaining to you their idea, you ask, "So, you're saying we all date? The three of us, together?"

"Yeah," Lando responds with a smile at the same time as Oscar responding, "Well, sort of-"

Both your pairs of eyes turn to Oscar. He swallows and adds, "I mean, yeah. Of course. Just sounds weird to me, for three people to be dating, but it's just because I'm not used to it, you know? It's good. It's fine."

"Oscar, are you sure you're okay with that idea?" you venture.

But there's no way Oscar's going to say anything but a convincing, "Of course!" after the way he saw your eyes immediately light up in hope when Lando explained his idea of the three of you dating.

So you nod, taking that answer, but just ask one more tentative question, "So, you two... you're okay with... you.. you know..."

Before Oscar's brain can even completely comprehend what you're asking, Lando throws his arm around Oscar's shoulders and exclaims, "Of course, Y/n! Me and Osc get on great! Plus, he's not so bad himself-"

And in that moment, you witness Lando lean into kiss Oscar's cheek just as Oscar turns to look at Lando to speak and-

Lando ends up pecking Oscar on his lips.

Oscar's eyes practically pop out of his head, and Lando, to be honest, looks somewhat surprised himself. But you're sure Oscar's brains are about to begin running out his bright red ears as his whole face goes fire hydrant red. "Oh..." he just manages, his hand dragging over his lip.

Lando laughs slightly awkwardly, deciding to pretend he meant to do that. He gives the other driver a pat on his shoulder before saying, "You know, Y/n, you know how flustered Oscar can get with you? Imagine how bad it could be with me. You know, me being so hot and sexy and-"

You giggle nervously and interrupt, "Yeah, yeah, Lando. I get what you're saying."

As the visit at Lando's flat goes on that day, you and Lando loosen up a fair amount at the whole prospect of the three of you dating, but Oscar doesn't seem to budge. Oscar ends up leaving early, so before you go to bed that night, you stop to bring up your nervous concern to Lando: "Lando, I just don't know if Oscar wants to do this... I mean, he doesn't seem comfortable... I just... I think he really doesn't like the idea of dating another guy... I mean, maybe he's- you know, he's not- He doesn't have those feelings for men-"

"Oh, gosh, Y/n, don't worry about that," Lando reassures you and himself, quite honestly. "He'll come around. Oscar just needs time." He adds with a tease, "I mean, who can resist me?"

"You're suggesting you're so hot you can turn straight men gay?" you ask, completely unimpressed, crossing your arms.

"No, no! Trust me, Y/n, Oscar Piastri is not a straight man to even begin with."

"But-"

"Shh. You're probably just tired. Go on, you're eyes are shutting on themselves. Just lean on me."

"But Lando-"

He pecks your lips and murmurs close to your ear, "I've got you here, Y/n. Leave all your worries for tomorrow morning, and until then, I'll deal with the rest."

"Are you sure?"

"Never been more sure," Lando comments, yawning himself as you sigh, resigned, and snuggle into his chest.

You're practically out cold within minutes, which leaves Lando time to sit alone with his thoughts, stroking your hair, worrying and thinking.

What if she's right? What if this just isn't going to work with Oscar?

I thought maybe he'd be more open.

Oh, God. I don't want to hurt either of them, one bit. I love Y/n. I know I do, and I have for so long now.

And Oscar? I'm so fond of him.

Ah, here I go again. Fuck me and my distracted, wandering, boyish heart.

Just like with Carlos. Just like with Daniel.

I don't know I feel it until in one moment, one instance, they smile in a certain way or say a certain joke or do a certain thing in a certain way and-

And suddenly I'm mad in love with yet another person.

Oh, Lando Norris. If only you could date everyone in the world you ever loved.

Then I'd be dating a lot more than just two people. And on the first day of dating two people, it's already a mess.

And it's all my fault.

I guess I'll just have to be the one who fixes it all, then, too.

"Oh, uh, good morning!" you chuckle as you see both Lando's and Oscar's heads turn almost in unison when you enter the room in McLaren HQ. "When did you two arrive in the U.K.?"

"Yesterd-"

"This morning!" Lando beams, throwing his arms around you.

"Oh, alright," you chuckle again. "It's so nice to see both of you..." You smile awkwardly as Lando pulls away and Oscar pats your shoulder when a sudden thought comes into your head.

Is this something the three of us should keep a secret?

Strangely (and stupidly) enough, you forgot to discuss that.

"Hey, uh, it's great you're both here right now. I've got to talk to you about, uhm- some of the media plans we have for you regarding Canada... Let's talk in the hall; don't want to disturb people working in here."

Lando raises his eyebrows as Oscar takes on a perplexed look. Once you're out in the hall together, you lean close and are about to speak when Lando interrupts with a smirk, "So, anyway. What about those... 'media plans' 'regarding Canada'...?"

"Oh, shut it, you!" you grin, realizing how much in just a little over a week away you missed Lando.

Oscar suddenly gently takes your hand by your side and says, "Oh, come on, Lando. Y/n, what did you want to say to us."

And you suddenly realized how much you missed Oscar, too, in only a little over a week.

"Well," you start, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "About this... relationship... Should we... you know, keep it a secret?"

"I... think so," Oscar says carefully, squeezing your hand. "Imagine the media's response. And the fans: the fans would be unbearable."

Lando crosses his arms and whines, "So you're saying I can't even show my affection for you two? Oscar, we're always on camera."

Did Lando just say you two? you can't help but suddenly wonder.

"Maybe you are, but there's ways of avoiding it," Oscar comments, not seeming to hear.

Hm. Maybe I heard wrong.

Because deep down inside, despite your secret desires, you know that Lando and Oscar just agreed to this for you, and have no specific liking for each other.

And that's the thing that's making you nervous that this whole thing has no chance of working out.

"Boys. I agree with Oscar," you sigh. "Lando, I work in marketing and public image type stuff. If anyone knows about this, it's me. And I agree with Osc. It'll do us no good to make this public. Let's just keep it on the down-low."

"Can we at least make a compromise?" Lando ventures.

"Go on," you sigh.

"We can at least still keep acting like we're mad in love with you," Lando laughs. "Because we've been doing that this whole time. Just no one has to know about the dating. I mean, it'll seem off if that suddenly stops."

You bite your lip but murmur, "Fair enough."

Lando grins and comments, "I gotta meeting now. See you two later," giving each your shoulders a pat.

Once Lando is gone, you turn to Oscar and murmur, letting go of his hand to touch his arm gently "Hey, Oscar. Are you alright?"

Your childhood best friend looks to you, a smile immediately forming on his face. But his eyes remain a bit hollow, a bit sad. "Of course I'm alright. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know... You haven't seemed yourself today, I guess is all."

Of course she says that, Oscar thinks. She's the one that knows me best, anyway.

"I don't? Well, I'm fine... I'm sorry if I don't seem it," Oscar responds, attempting to brighten his smile. "Anyways, I've got to be off, too, actually," he says, checking his expensive watch. He leans in to peck your lips as his hand brushes your waist, before waving and offering, "Catch you later, lovely!"

The combination of his affectionate gestures and him calling you 'lovely' kind of makes your head spin.

You lay next to Lando, absently stroking his cheek and chin, feeling his facial hair, as he holds you close, tracing sweet words with his gentle fingers into your back.

You sigh, completely contented in the practically perfect moment. You're in Spain, and it's Saturday night- the Spanish Grand Prix is tomorrow. You ended up taking the last Grand Prix weekend in Canada off, for your spa weekend. Either way, before the race tomorrow, Lando invited you for some snuggles in his hotel room, and there's no way you could say no to that.

So here you are.

But suddenly Lando whispers, "Do you think I should invite Oscar?"

Your heavy eyes seem to immediately open and sharpen at this suggestion. You take a moment to ponder his question, before asking one of your own instead of answering his: "Lando, do you like Oscar?"

"Y/n, of course I like Osc-"

"No, no, Lando. I mean... you know..." you begin carefully, "Do you like Oscar the way you like me?"

There's silence in the room as the air conditioner becomes deafeningly loud suddenly. You can hear a long, slow sigh escape from Lando's lips, into the air, before he slowly says, "Oh, Y/n. I've liked lots of people the way I've liked you in the past."

You smile a little. "I know. You're Lando Norris, for God's sake. Of course you have. But today, right now, in this moment, do you like Oscar the same way you like me?"

Lando presses his forehead into your shoulder before uttering quieter, "If I did, it wouldn't matter."

"Why not?" you prod.

"Because, Y/n, there's no way he likes me in the same way he likes you."

You sigh slowly, feeling a slight pang at hearing those words. You wrap your arms around Lando and pull him closer to you. "What do you like about Oscar...?" you whisper.

"Oh, fuck me, Y/n. Everything. His stupid sense of humour, the way he laughs at all my jokes, the way he looks at me with those brown eyes, the little birth marks all over him, how polite and calm and cool-headed and cooperative and agreeable and smart and sensible and friendly and genuinely good he is. His voice, too! His mentality. Don't fucking tell anyone this, or I will kill you, but I even like the way he's a little bit taller than me. I love his stupid hair and his big smile. His hands... I love them. I love everything about him. I love him, and it's like it all just hit me. I don't know, Y/n. I just don't know."

You lean in and peck his lips before whispering, "Oh, Lando Norris. I love him, too, for all the same reasons. And I love you, too."

"The thing is, Y/n," he barely whispers, "that he'll never, ever love me back."

That feels like a stab to your heart.

You can't imagine how it feels to Lando.

You cuddle him so close, and you hold each other so close, that you can feel his heart pounding in his chest. "Lando," you whisper. "I wish it could all just work out."

"Me, too, Y/n.

"Me too."

"Heyyy, Osc!" you grin, knocking on his open driver's room door. "You feeling good for the race?"

He smiles to see you in the door. "Yeah, I am. Come on in. Thanks for coming to see me, Y/n."

"Of course. It's a treat to see your handsome face."

He beams wider but rolls his eyes, "Oh, yeah?"

"Of course!" you giggle a bit.

"Well, do I get my pre-race hug, then?"

You grin and throw your arms around him, giving him a big kiss on his cheek, "You'll also be getting a post-race hug, too, when you win it!"

"Well, I guess that's always the goal, but we'll see about that." He leans back to look at you, gazing so warmly, so intensely for just a second, into your eyes, before looking away. He opens his mouth to say something, but then quickly closes it.

"What is it, Oscar?" you prod.

"I just wanted to say I love you."

You grin. "Don't ever hesitate to say that again. You don't need to, because I love you, too. And you and Lando better stay safe out there on the track today for me, okay?"

"Oh, alright, and the rest of the grid can all die; they don't matter," he teases.

"Oh, shut it, you!" you laugh, exiting his driver's room with a wave, "Go on and get ready for your race now!"

"Bye!" he laughs.

"Bye, bye, Osc!"

You lay on the bed in Lando's hotel room where you laid just last night, but this time, there's two people laying with you rather than just one.

Oscar is fast asleep on your right side, his right arm draped over your body and his head resting against your shoulder. Lando is on your left, still awake, gently rubbing your left hand absently as he runs his hand through his messy curls.

"Do you think Osc-"

"Ah-" Lando exclaims softly with a little flinch. "I thought you were sleeping already!" he laughs a bit.

You nod, waiting a few seconds before reasking your question, "Do you think Oscar is feeling better about the whole thing?"

"Oh, God, Y/n, I don't know. I think he's just kind of rolling with the punches," Lando sighs deeply. "He just wants you. He'll do anything to have you. Even sleep in the same bed as me."

"Oh... right..." you sigh, wrapping your arm around the sleeping Oscar, pulling him closer to you as you rest your head in the little nook between Lando's cheek and shoulder.

You shut your eyes, trying to force yourself to sleep, but your thoughts are raging, just like Lando's.

Why can't it all just be right? Why does it have to be so difficult? Is this the right thing? Should we give up on it?

Why can't the three of us just be right for each other?

This whole mess is all your fault, Y/n.

Your uncertain heart pounds in your ears, faster and faster, making you nearly go insane.