CONTENT WARNING: EXPLICIT CONTENT/SMUT AT THE BEGINNING OF THE CHAPTER. IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SKIP UNTIL THE FIRST CHAPTER BREAK (AKA: ◆ ◆ ◆)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN : CRAWL HOME TO HER

SAPULPA, OKLAHOMA

THEY BARELY MAKE IT TO THE BARN. Tyler puts her back the door, his mouth on hers the moment he sets her down, two feet against the ground. He's devouring her, hands mapping her frame, pushing up her shirt until she feels the gentle breeze of the night against her skin.

Willow has to slide the door open with her hand outstretched beside her, pulling and feeling the wood scrape against her back as she tugs. She doesn't pull them apart to walk them backward, muttering a muffled "door" against his lips, a clear order that he doesn't miss.

He forgets about the loft, pushing her back towards the lab until her back is up against the work desk she's spent hours on. Tyler reaches behind her as if he's going to throw everything back from the desk and she breaks away, making him groan.

"That's my life's work you're about to throw to the floor," she chides him. "Loft, cowboy," she reminds him with a pat on the chest. She leans in again, her tone dropping into a sultry tease. "I can ride better on a couch than a workbench."

That's all he needs to follow her lead. Willow climbs into the hayloft first—it's been five years, yet everything's just as she remembers: the same old couch, the same throw blanket she and Kate used to share when they'd crash up here. The place holds nothing but good memories, untouched and welcoming.

As she takes it in, Tyler joins her, his presence warms behind her. He presses a soft kiss to her shoulder, his hands brushing along her arms. "You alright?" he asks, noticing the way she pauses, her gaze softened with memory.

Willow turns to him, her smile easy and blissful. "Perfect," she says, fully meaning it. "C'mere."

Tyler kisses her again, slower this time, but no less passionate than before. He molds against her, his hands at her waist, slipping under the cotton of her shirt. He finishes the work he attempted outside the barn, pushing up at the hem. They break apart so he can tug it over her head and toss it against the couch behind them.

"Fuck," he groans at the sight of her breasts, bare to him, her chest heaving with every breath. He glances back up at her face, taking in her hooded gaze, her flushed cheeks, and the little part of her swollen lips. Tyler moves to press a kiss to the underside of her jaw. "I ain't told you enough how pretty you are."

He works his way along her jaw and then down her throat, his lips soft against her skin as he peppers down. He pauses at the junction between her neck and shoulder, his teeth suddenly crowding her skin, nipping at the sensitive spot. He learned that the first time they were together, how it made her whine and shiver just from a simple graze.

"Take off your shirt," she orders, wanting him just as exposed as she is.

"Bossy," he responds with a grin, but tugs his white shirt off all the same, tossing it back with hers. Willow spreads her hands along his chest hair and stands on her toes to meet his lips again.

They'll never make it to the couch, not with Tyler tugging down the throw blanket and throwing his hand a few times until it's spread out enough without ever having to leave her. He taps the back of her knees, telling her to follow him down to the ground where he lays her back against the blanket.

"There's a perfectly good couch up there," she tells him when she is flat on her back, watching him climb over her.

"It'll get its turn," he assures her, kneeling between her legs, leaning down to peck her lips, just once. "Just ain't enough room right now for what I wanna do."

"And what's that?"

Tyler leans back on his knees and taps her thigh. "Take your shorts off."

Willow raises her eyebrow, smirking. "Now who's bossy?" She does it anyway, sliding down the flannel pattern until she is just in her panties, lacey green ones that make his mouth water.

"You got more like this?" He asks her, tracing the lace.

"Plenty."

She is not sure if her response warranted him to tear the lace to shreds.

Bare to him, he drinks her in, admiring every inch. "You're perfect," he tells her, his eyes boring into hers as he says it as if he wants to tell it right to her soul, admiring every inch, every part of her, truly.

Tyler begins to kiss along her body, starting again at her throat. He pays special attention to her breasts, his hands encasing, his mouth plucking at one of her peaks until she whines. He trails down further until he reaches her mound with her watching every step. Tyler glances up at her, silently asking for permission; she will never deny him.

He latches on slowly at first, a soft kiss to her cunt, lips brushing against her clit. Then it is a tentative lick, a stripe along her that makes him hum at her taste. Tyler repeats himself, this time his tongue pressing in harder, longer. She shivers through a moan when he stops to wrap his lips around her bud.

There is no warning before he dives in, devouring her, his lips and tongue molding against her until she is panting under his attention. He's dedicated to the cause, swirling his tongue, drinking up her wetness, letting it spread across his chin. Willow arches up against the floor, bucking her hips into his face. Tyler pushes her back down and locks her legs in with his arms, tugging her closer as if it is nothing and guiding her legs until her heels rest against his back.

Tyler pulls back for some air and she whines at the loss. He frees one of her legs just to press his hand against her, pushing open the lips of her cunt with two fingers. He stares at her in admiration. "I ain't tasted nothin' sweeter than you, weather girl," he muses, moving to toy with her clit with his thumb. He licks his lips of her juices. "And you were going to keep me from it."

"Not for long," she gasps out when he presses a little harder on her sensitive nub, "had this whole plan, was gonna find you on Instagram..." Willow cannot think straight, not when he captures her cunt in another sloppy wet kiss. She whines his name desperately.

"And how long would your plan have taken you, huh? A month? A year?" he asks, glancing up at her again. "I spent two weeks without you, baby, and it tore me up; any longer would have just been cruel."

"I would've—" she pants. "I would've made it up to you."

"Yeah, how?" Willow doesn't immediately answer and he pinches her clit to regain her attention. "Talk me through it, baby, or I'm stoppin'."

"I would've—" Her compliance earns his mouth against her again. "I would've rode you until my knees were black and blue," she tells him and he lets out a groan that sends vibrations through her core. Willow digs her nails into the wood flooring, moaning unabashedly. "Let you hate-fuck me until you forgave me."

"I couldn't have hate-fucked you," he responds, pausing again, this time to slide a finger into her. Her mouth drops open in a silent moan. "Couldn't ever hate my pretty girl."

"Tyler, please—" Willow begs.

"I got you, baby," he tells her, adding another finger in. She bucks again and he is right there, pushing her back down, willing her to take what he gives. His thumb is still brushing against her clit every time he pumps into her, sending stars behind her eyes, making her want to burst.

But she doesn't want to cum on his fingers, they'll have plenty of time in the world for that later. Right now, she needs him. "If you don't get up here and fuck me—"

"Alright, alright, you ain't gotta tell me twice." he digresses, pulling out of her. He doesn't come immediately, pausing a moment to lick his fingers clean in a way that has her mewling for him. Then he climbs up her body until his face is hovering over hers, chin glistening, eyes full of admiration. "Where do you want me?"

"Where do you want me?" she corrects his question, a playful smile stretching out across her fucked-out expression. "Thought I was making it up to you."

"Ain't no need to live in the past, makin' up for something," he tells her, thumb brushing across the bottom lip, tracing her smile. "I got you right here; all that matters to me now."

Willow's heart might burst at his words, at that look in his eyes, the one she imagined him looking at her with for the rest of their lives that night in the bar. She catches him in a kiss again, soft, sweet, hoping it tells him everything she feels in her soul for him, how much he means even in all that little time they've had together, how sorry she is for running that first time, how she wants him in her life for however long fate will let her keep him.

"I need you," she breathes out when she pulls back against his lips, "in me, now."

"Yes, ma'am."

Tyler slides down his sweatpants, his cock springing free without the barrier. She remembers the first time she saw it, her mouthwatering, wondering how the hell it was going to fit inside of, but it fits like a glove, as if he was molded just for her.

(Maybe someone did make him in a lab for her.)

"Condom?"

"Pill," she tells him, "and I ain't fucked anybody else in five years except you." It triggers some feral part of him, to hear his sole possession. He pulls her into a searing kiss, all tongue and teeth.

Tyler positions himself over her and taps the tip against her opening, catching her wetness, gliding through it. He sends her one last glance, that silent permission again, that she answers with a quiet "please". He adjusts himself one last time before pushing home.

Willow's mouth drops open in a gasp, hands pressed against his chest, nails digging into skin. Tyler's jaw goes slack as he slides in further, a drawn-out, heavy groan leaving him at the wetness of her cunt surrounding him. "There we go," he talks her through it until he is at that snug spot, head kissing at her cervix, taking him right to the hilt. "There we go, pretty girl, that's it. So fucking tight."

"Tyler," she whines out his name, adjusting to his size again, "fuck."

"I know, I know," he murmurs and presses a kiss to her mouth, soft and sweet. He does a test run, a slow tug of the hips before pressing right back in. Her moan rings out throughout the barn, echoing.

"Keep going, please," she begs and he could never say no.

Tyler eases in and out of her, building up to a steady pace that jolts her with each thrust. She mewls, hands sliding to his shoulders, nails biting into his back. She tosses her head back in pleasure, exposing her neck to him so he can lean down and bite her at the column of her throat.

"Fuck," he moans out, tilting his head back at the sensation of her pussy tight around him, "you were made for me, baby." He adjusts their position, bending her legs at the waist, pushing into her at a higher angle. "Kept getting dropped right back into my lap too, world making sure we know we fucking belong to each other."

"Ty," she pants out his name again as hits that sensitive spot in her.

"I got you," he tells her huskily. He has one hand on her thigh, balancing himself over her, the other coming to brush her hair back from her face. Tyler leans down, pressing a kiss to her forehead, soft, and she thinks she might just cum from that.

He keeps up the pace, pistoning in and out of her with vigor, matching her noises of pleasure with his own. Tyler lets up on his press so he can wind a hand down between them, his fingers catching on her clit. Willow squeals at the touch, shockwaves rattling through her core. Her walls clench around him, her breath stuttering through each thrust, each strum of his thumb.

She's close, she can feel it in her pulse. The coil of pleasure winds tighter and tighter in her core, threatening to snap with each brush of his tip against the deep part of her.

"Let me have it, baby," he encourages her.

It snaps in a hot, white flash behind her eyes. Willow's body tense, her back arching off the blanket as her orgasm crashes through her. She sings his name as waves of pleasure wrack her body, each sending pulse down to her cunt, sucking him in deeper and deeper. Tyler's rhythm falters, thrusts turning erratic as she gushes around him.

He groans, burying his face in her neck as he steadies himself, attempting to hold back his own release. Willow recovers through his slower thrust, pacing himself, though it does not do much to help. "I ain't gonna last much longer," he tells her, panting.

Willow takes his slow thrusts as a moment to shift them. She leans up and gently guides him onto his knees, with her on top of his thighs. She runs her hands down his back, feeling the muscles flex and strain as he jolts inside her, taking in the new position. Tyler looks at her, staring into her eyes as if she is some kind of dream, mouth parted in soft, desperate breaths.

"I ain't asking you to last, cowboy," she assures and does a shaky roll of her hips into his, still trembling. He shudders with pleasure, gliding his hand down her bare back until it cups her ass. "Jus' want you."

Tyler groans at her words, placing his free hand at the nape of her neck, fingers tangling in her curls. His grip on her tightens as she rolls her hips again. "You've got me, Willow," he breathes out, pulling her into another searing kiss. "You always had me."

Willow moves her hips into tight circles, each movement eliciting those breathy praises in her ear, accompanying the sound of his skin against hers. She savors every inch, the delicious stretch, the fullness. Tyler meets each roll with his own thrust, matching her pace, making her whine and mewl against his lips.

"C'mon," she mirrors him, low and sultry, "let me have it."

His eyes go wide, begging. "Inside of you?"

"Please."

She is there again, on the edge, just the same as him, with the way he goes unsteady. He devours her again, mouth open against hers in a blinding hot kiss as he buries himself as deep inside of her as he can. He paints her insides white with a vibrating moan against her lips. It hits her again, that coil snapping again, her legs shaking as it strikes through her core.

It is as if all is right in the world as they come down, catching their breaths, neither of them daring to separate. Willow slumps against his shoulder, boneless, his arm wrapping around her back. She can feel his heart beating in his chest, his breath warm against her neck as he presses a kiss to her jugular. She hums a soft, pretty sound and smiles against her skin.

Willow leans back in his arms to find his gaze. He seems lovestruck by the way he tucks her hair behind her ear, admiring her touseled features. "I hadn't told you I missed you yet, had I?"

"You didn't have to," he tells her with that smile, a little drunk, entirely on her, "but for what it's worth, I missed you more."

◆ ◆ ◆

IT'S 3 AM WHEN A DARK FIGURE LOOMS OVER HER. Willow blinks, eyes adjusting to the dark shape looming beside her bed. Tyler stays sound asleep, his arm slung over her waist, but she cannot, not when those rolling hours after her usual four end up disturbed. She sits up, almost startled, until she makes out Kate's familiar silhouette, bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light.

Kate is standing there in her faded Muskogee t-shirt and banana-print pajama shorts, looking more like a shadowy, pajama-clad ghost than her usual self.

"Please don't tell me you threw up," Willow murmurs, her voice hoarse and tangled between the remnants of sleep and the whispered secrets of the night.

Kate crinkles her nose, casting a disapproving glance at Tyler, blissfully unaware in his deep slumber. "I might," she whispers, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "Really? While Jo's downstairs?"

Willow scoffs softly, rolling her eyes. "We went out to the barn, thank you very much. Came back into sleep."

Kate's jaw drops, her expression a blend of disbelief and horror. "You defiled the barn?"

"Oh, like you're one to talk." Willow grins, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Where do you think I got the idea from?"

Kate shakes her head, her lips twitching with a reluctant smile, but the mirth fades quickly. Her face takes on a more serious expression, the weight of something unspoken hanging in the air. "Can we talk?" she asks, her voice softer now, almost pleading. "Please."

Willow nods, carefully lifting Tyler's arm and slipping out of bed. He lets out a whine at the loss and for a moment, she stills, thinking he'll wake up. He settles right back in when Kate replaces her with a pillow, much to her dismay.

She follows Kate to her room, where Kate shuts the door softly behind them. Kate, for whom everything has a place, even if it's a chaotic, disorganized place, has let her room become a disaster. She's dragged their work in from the barn—sheets of equations, composition books filled with chasing notes that she must have come out to retrieve after they went back upstairs.

Willow strides over to the bed, picking up the purple "cloud physics" notebook with a frown. They'd been so desperate to hide that from Tyler, to keep him from seeing their failure, but there it is again, Kate harboring it in the night for reasons that bring a nervous, crazed look to her eyes. Willow turns toward Kate, a question already in her gaze. "What's going on?"

Kate is already pacing the floor, her fingers fidgeting and tugging at her nails. There's a restless, almost frantic energy to her movements, her eyes clouded with a nervous determination. "You have to tell me if I'm crazy," she murmurs, her voice edged with worry.

Willow's expression softens. "I would never tell you you're crazy," she says firmly. But Kate's response is a pleading, desperate look, her vulnerability laid bare. "Kate, what are you thinking?"

Kate pauses, taking a shaky breath. "I keep thinking about what Tyler said," she begins, her voice hushed as she resumes her pacing, nearly wearing a path into the floor. "About the model. Do you think he'd want to do it?"

Willow considers this, nodding slowly. "He wouldn't suggest it if he wasn't serious. He'd follow through, probably make adjustments to the reactants, and fix the solubility rules like he mentioned," she assures her, eyes narrowing. "Are you...?"

Kate's eyes dart up to meet hers, and her voice slips out, quiet, like it's her most awful confession. "I kind of want to let him."

"Really?" Willow's eyes widen in surprise. "You want to give it another shot?"

"I..." Kate pauses, uncertain. "I don't know. Maybe?" She hesitates, wringing her hands. "It's crazy, isn't it?"

Willow's heart thrums in her chest, adrenaline rising at the suggestion. She'd decided earlier that day that the can of worms should never be opened again. She'd shut Tyler down the moment Kate did, packing up all her hopes and failures with it, tucking them away in the back corner of her mind to gather dust, never to be brought up again. Focusing on chasing had felt easier, leaving that pipe dream behind.

But it sparks again, a careful light fueled by Kate's ever-wandering mind, unearthing old work to remind them just what they could have done—or could still do—and Willow...

It could never be crazy, not when she just might have done the same thing, given time and a bit more spiraling.

Willow shakes her head. "No, not at all." She glances up at Kate, who's still on edge from earlier that day, but now looks more calculated, planning, processing just what they're capable of now. "What made you change your mind?"

Kate swallows, looking down as she collects her thoughts. "I was thinking about everything," she says softly. "About you and me and how we started this thing together. And maybe..." She glances up at Willow, uneasy. "Maybe finishing it is the only way to make it right."

(Those words echo in Willow's mind—a recent memory, framed in a little burger joint, a fresh reunion, an offer on the table that made her tremble with both fear and hope.

What did he say to her? To get her back out into the field to finish what they started, to work at getting it right? Those final words that had her step off the ledge, slowly slipping back into a world she had kept herself from for too long.

I just don't want to feel like it was for nothing anymore.)

"Kate..." Willow trails off, blinking back tears, true redemption sitting just on the cusp. StormPar had been a false prophecy, never enough to fill that aching hole of failure—a patch that could still catch the breeze of self-hatred.

"I won't do it without you," Kate says firmly. "It was our experiment, so it's our decision, together."

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Willow asks, her voice trembling. She remembers the fear in Kate's eyes back in the barn when Tyler suggested they even consider revisiting the experiment. The last thing she wants is to see that look again. "To restart this? To try to make it work?"

"If it's what you want," Kate replies quietly, but with a conviction that grows as she speaks. "Yeah. I want to try."

Willow lets out a watery laugh, nodding as a mix of relief and excitement fills her. Kate's expression softens, a spark of pride and determination brightening her gaze. Then, without another word, she lunges forward, wrapping Willow in a tight embrace.

Willow closes her eyes, hugging her back just as fiercely. Surrounded by their scattered notes, weathered notebooks, and lingering memories of failure, she feels the weight of the past start to lift, letting in the faintest glimmer of hope.

(Dr. Robinson will never believe her at her next appointment.)

When they finally pull back, Kate wipes a tear from her cheek, her smile unwavering. "Let's go try and tame us a tornado."

And maybe, just maybe, the tragedy had not been the climax after all, simmering down to her unhappy ending—but the unfortunate beginning of something worth rewriting.

—AUTHOR'S NOTE

sorry this chapter is just porn

title from work song by hozier because its the sexiest most intimate song in the world and willow def listens to that album on repeat

this is also my first time posting smut in a fic; a little nerve-wracking, I have to say, but I hope you enjoy the soft and sensual barn fucking they got going on.

i honestly just have no words. please don't eat me alive, let me know if its awful or if you liked or what you thought about kate and willow deciding together to start up the experiment again.

longer chapter coming, considering we've gotta get willow into her first chase sitting beside tyler in his truck (literally his biggest fantasy boys gonna LOSE his mind)

thank you for reading and all your love,

kari