He’s just Scott
Summary: You finally convince your husband Scott to bring Javi and Dani over for dinner. Dani asks how you and Scott met.
Dad Scott Miller x Fem!Reader
david corenswet characters masterlist ♡
Scott said no three times.
The first was a flat, immediate, “No,” delivered without even looking up from his laptop.
The second came after you explained (very reasonably, you thought) that Storm Par was basically his second family and that it would be nice for them to come over for dinner like normal people. That one earned you a slow blink and a firm, “I don’t want them here.”
The third came when you tried again later that night, armed with optimism and snacks. “I like keeping work and home separate,” he said, rubbing his temple. “You and her don’t need tornado people underfoot.”
That should’ve been the end of it.
But Scott knew he was losing the argument the moment you tilted your head and gave him that look.
“Absolutely not,” he said for the fourth time, arms crossed, leaning against the kitchen counter like it might physically support his resolve. “Work stays at work.”
You stood a few feet away, your daughter perched on your hip, blinking up at him with the same wide eyes. You didn’t say anything at first. You just looked at him. Soft smile. Brows slightly raised. Silent patience.
Scott exhaled through his nose. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” you asked innocently.
“The eyes,” he muttered. “Both of you.”
Your daughter chose that moment to tighten her grip around your neck and jut her bottom lip forward, staring at Scott with a serious, almost accusatory little frown.
Scott stared back. “You’re teaming up now?”
“She wants to hang out with them,” you said gently. “And I just thought it would be nice to see them when they’re not covered in dust and yelling about radar.”
“They are my work,” Scott replied. “I don’t want you tangled up in that.”
You smiled sweetly. “We just want to know the people you work with. Outside of tornadoes and danger.”
“They’re loud,” he said. “They track mud everywhere. And they talk shop even when they swear they won’t.”
“That just sounds like a normal get-together,” you countered. “Besides, we’ve already met them. This is just… dinner. Food. Sitting down. No storms.”
He hesitated. You could see the internal tug-of-war. Scott liked his worlds separate. Work stayed contained. Home stayed quiet and safe. Letting those lines blur made him uneasy.
Then you softened, just a little. “I know you want to protect us,” you said quietly. “But this is part of your life too.”
Your daughter nodded very seriously, as if she understood every word.
Scott looked at her, then back at you. His jaw clenched.
“…One night,” he said at last. “No storm talk.”
-
During the next video call meeting, Scott dropped the ball.
“Your place?” Javi repeated, clearly flabbergasted. “As in… home home?”
“Yes,” Scott said flatly.
“With food?”
“Yes.”
“And—” Javi squinted. “Your wife is hosting?”
Scott’s jaw flexed. “Yes.”
Silence.
Then Dani leaned over and whispered loudly, “Blink twice if you’re being held hostage.”
Scott shot her a glare. “Be there at six.”
Another pause.
“Yes, I’m serious.”
When the meeting ended, Scott didn’t look at you. “You owe me.”
You kissed his cheek. “I know, baby.”
Javi stared at the screen, then slowly looked up at the others. “He sounded like he was chewing gravel just saying it.”
Dani grinned. “Oh, she definitely made him do this.”
-
Javi was the first to step out, scanning the house and trying to reconcile it with the Scott Miller he knew.
“This is… Scott’s house?” he said slowly.
Dani nudged him. “I didn’t think he had one. I thought he just lived in trucks and motel rooms.”
Scott opened the door before they could knock. “You coming in or not?”
They all froze.
Because Scott Miller looked… uncomfortable. Not exactly angry or annoyed. Just stiff, like every word was rehearsed and lodged in his throat.
“Hey,” Javi said carefully. “You okay, man?”
“I’m fine,” Scott replied immediately. “Shoes off.”
They exchanged looks as they shuffled inside.
Your daughter peeked around the corner, scowling at the unfamiliar crowd. Dani immediately softened. “Oh my god. Hi again, little Miller.”
The scowl intensified.
Javi snorted. “She’s got his face.”
“I know,” you said proudly. “Isn’t it amazing?”
Javi muttered, “It’s unsettling.”
Dinner was… surprisingly normal.
They sat around your table, eating real food instead of gas-station snacks. Javi told stories. Dani laughed loudly. Someone spilled a drink. Your daughter climbed into Scott’s lap halfway through the meal and refused to leave, clinging to his arm while he ate one-handed without complaint.
You watched him the whole time. He was quiet, listening more than he spoke. He corrected people quietly instead of loudly. His hand resting automatically on your daughter’s back, grounding her and himself.
At one point, Javi leaned over to Dani and whispered, “He’s different here.”
Dani nodded. “Yeah. Less of an asshole.”
Scott glanced at them. “I can hear you.”
-
Later, the dishes were stacked in the sink, and your daughter had migrated to the living room floor with a small pile of blocks. Javi and Dani had claimed spots at the kitchen island, drinks in hand.
Scott hovered at the edge of the room, towering over everyone.
You leaned against the counter across from them, relaxed, laughing easily as Javi told a story about a chase gone sideways in Kansas. Dani listened with her chin in her palm, occasionally glancing between you and Scott with open curiosity.
“So,” Dani said eventually, tilting her head, “can I ask you something?”
Scott stiffened instantly.
You smiled. “Sure.”
Dani’s eyes flicked to Scott, then back to you. “How did you two meet?”
Scott’s head snapped toward her.
“Dani,” he said flatly.
She blinked. “What?”
He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. His glare alone was almost paralyzing. It was the same look he used when a storm track didn’t add up.
Drop it.
Javi noticed immediately. His eyebrows shot up. “Ohhh,” he murmured. “We’re not supposed to ask that.”
You looked between them, amused. “What? It’s not a secret.”
Scott’s jaw tightened. “It’s… private.”
You nudged him lightly with your hip. “Relax. It’s fine.”
Dani’s eyes widened slightly. “Wait, really?”
“Yeah,” you said cheerfully. “We met at MIT.”
Scott let out a slow breath through his nose.
Javi’s mouth fell open. “Yeah?”
“Yes,” Scott added reluctantly. “Same program.”
Dani leaned back, clearly trying to picture it. “Okay, wait. So you two were in school together?”
Javi grinned. “I can already see it. Scott Miller, age twenty, running group projects like it was the navy.”
Scott shot him a look. “I did not.”
“You absolutely did,” you said without missing a beat.
Javi laughed. “Knew it.”
Dani shook her head, smiling. “I bet he was insufferable.”
Javi asked. “Were you academic rivals or something?”
You laughed. “Oh, no. Nothing like that.”
Scott cleared his throat.
Then, you casually added, “We actually met because I was his tutor.”
The room went silent.
Javi blinked. Once. Twice. “I’m sorry—”
Dani leaned forward. “You were what?”
Scott closed his eyes.
“I was tutoring him,” you repeated, completely unfazed. “Atmospheric Dynamics. And the lab one...Large-scale Flow Dynamics. He was… struggling.”
Javi choked on his drink. “Scott Miller? Being tutored?”
“That’s impossible,” Dani said. “You don’t even ask for directions.”
Scott muttered, “It was one class.”
“Two classes,” you corrected him. “Two classes you were failing.”
Scott opened his eyes and stared at you. “I was not failing.”
“You were on track to,” you said sweetly. “If it weren’t for me, you absolutely would’ve.”
Javi lost it. “Oh my god. This is the best thing I’ve ever heard.”
Dani was giggling so hard she had to grab the counter. “I need a moment. I cannot reconcile this information.”
Your daughter looked up from the floor, sensing the attention shift, and toddled over. She planted herself next to Scott’s leg, arms crossed in a miniature imitation of his posture, scowling at the laughing adults.
Javi smiled. “Oh, sorry sweetie. We didn’t mean to laugh at your dad.”
Scott looked down at her, then back at you, exasperation written plainly across his face. “You enjoy this.”
You shrugged. “A little.”
He sighed, long and resigned, then reached down to scoop your daughter up onto his hip. She immediately settled, one small hand gripping his shirt like she’d always been there.
Dani softened instantly. “Okay, that’s cute.”
Scott glanced at you again. He was annoyed, yes, but fond too. “You didn’t have to tell them that.”
You smiled up at him. “You survived. Barely. The Scott Miller wouldn’t be here today if I didn’t help.”
He huffed, pressing a kiss to your daughter’s temple. “I passed.”
“Because of me.”
Javi watched the exchange, grin fading into something warmer. “Man,” he said softly. “Never thought I’d see this side of you.”
-
Hours later, your daughter was asleep between you and Scott, sprawled diagonally across the bed like she owned it. One small foot rested against Scott’s thigh, her head tucked under his chin, dark lashes fanned against her cheeks. Scott lay on his back, one arm curved protectively around her, the other tucked under his head.
He hadn’t moved in a while.
“You know,” he said quietly, “I didn’t appreciate you telling Javi and Dani that you tutored me.”
You smiled into the darkness.
There was no heat in his tone. No irritation. Just that dry, understated cadence that always meant he was teasing...in his own way.
“Oh?” you murmured. “Sounded like you survived just fine.”
He huffed softly. “Barely.” A pause. “I have a reputation.”
You turned your head to look at him. Even in the dim light, you could make out the faint crease between his brows, relaxed now, not stressed. Content. “You’re worried about looking less cool?”
“I am not worried,” he said immediately.
You raised an eyebrow. “Scott.”
He sighed, conceding just a little. “I just don’t need them thinking I needed help.”
You laughed quietly. “You did need help. A lot of it.”
His lips twitched despite himself. “I needed clarification.”
“On half the syllabus.”
He shook his head, but his arm shifted so he could pull you closer, careful not to disturb your daughter. “You enjoy reminding people of that.”
“Not everybody. I just enjoy reminding you,” you corrected gently.
Your daughter stirred slightly, letting out a sleepy hum, and Scott’s hand immediately smoothed over her back in slow, practiced motions. The same way he’d always done. The same way he did without thinking.
“You know,” he said finally, voice lower now, more serious, “I don’t say this enough.”
“You and her…” He swallowed once, gaze fixed on the ceiling. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Your chest tightened.
He shifted just enough to press his cheek against your daughter’s hair. “I didn’t even know I was missing this. A home. A reason to be.” His voice softened. “But I can’t imagine doing any of this without you.”
You turned fully toward him, heart full to the point it almost hurt. Carefully, you leaned in and kissed him slowly, lingering just long enough to make him exhale against your lips.
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me too,” you whispered. “Even when you’re bossy. Even when you pretend you don’t need anyone.”
He let out a quiet breath of a laugh. “I don’t have to pretend with you.”
You smiled, resting your forehead against his. Between you, your daughter curled her small hand into the fabric of Scott’s shirt.
For once, Scott didn’t feel the need to be anywhere else.
-
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