A storm-chasing field trip
Summary: Missing your husband, you surprise Scott by tracking StormPar down to Oklahoma. He now has to literally wrangle you: (1) out of harm’s way when you insist in joining the stormchasers, and (2) away from Tyler Owens, who still tries to shoot his shot with a visibly pregnant woman.
Scott Miller (Twisters) x Pregnant!Reader
tags: mostly crack; pregnant!reader is the #1 scott miller ragebaiter, scott’s blood pressure increases dramatically, tyler flirting with a pregnant woman
david corenswet characters masterlist ♡
The town was the kind of place StormPar passed through without a second thought—one main street, a gas station, a diner, and a couple of weary motels for chasers and locals alike. The team was parked out front of the diner, trucks lined up in the gravel lot while Kate went over radar and Javi and Mike ran through gear checks. Scott had been leaning against his SUV, arms crossed, impatient to move.
And then he saw you.
At first he thought it was his brain playing tricks on him—wishful thinking after days on the road. But no, it really was you, stepping carefully out of a beat-up rental car, your overalls unmistakably snug around the curve of your belly. Your baby bump was on full display, like you weren’t even trying to hide it.
You visibly lit up when you finally met his eye, waving at him excitedly.
Scott pushed off the truck so fast Javi actually muttered, “What the hell—?” as he jogged past.
“Jesus Christ. You’ve got to be kidding me,” Scott said when he reached you, his voice tight with disbelief. His eyes dropped immediately to your stomach, then back up to your face, storm-blue with worry. “What are you doing here?”
You smiled nervously, tugging on one strap of your overalls. “Surprising you. Thought it’d be nice.”
“Nice?” His voice pitched higher, his hands flying up in disbelief before he ran them through his hair. “You’re pregnant. You came to Oklahoma—in the middle of storm season—to surprise me?”
“I missed you,” you said simply, shrugging like that explained everything. “Weeks on end with nothing but phone calls wasn’t cutting it. I wanted to see you.”
Scott’s jaw tightened, his hands flexing as if he wanted to reach for you and hold you still at the same time. “You’re—” He cut himself off, exhaling through his nose. “You’re pregnant. With my child. And you thought the best idea was to walk straight into tornado country?”
Your smile softened, even as you stepped closer. “I thought the best idea was being with my husband. You’re out here every day risking your life, and I’m supposed to just sit at home counting the hours? No. I needed to see you. Needed you.”
That last part cracked through his armor. His shoulders slumped, and he dragged a hand down his face, muttering something under his breath that sounded a lot like unbelievable. When he looked at you again, the irritation had shifted into something more raw—fear stitched with affection.
“You know I’m glad to see you,” he admitted, quieter now. “More than glad. But I can’t have you anywhere near a storm. Not now. Not with the baby.”
You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. “I just want to be nearby. To see you. To remind myself why we’re doing this, why we put up with all the distance.”
For a long moment, Scott just looked at you. The storm-light reflected in his eyes, blue and unsettled, but his thumb brushed over your knuckles in a gesture that betrayed the truth—he’d missed you just as fiercely.
Finally, he exhaled, conceding. “Fine. You stay in town, at the hotel, or with the locals if we’re stationed here. Nowhere near the field. You don’t argue, you don’t negotiate. If I find out you’ve even thought about stepping foot into a chase zone—” He broke off, shaking his head. “You’ll make me lose my damn mind.”
You grinned, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Deal.”
Javi’s excited yells of your name broke you apart from Scott, who sighed before tilting his head towards the team, “Come on,” he pressed a hand to the small of your back, guiding you.
-
Kate was still getting her bearings with StormPar. She’d only been with the team a short while, and though she admired their skill, she couldn’t quite figure Scott Miller out. He was brilliant, sure, and his instincts were sharp—but he was also blunt to the point of arrogance, a man who treated downtime as wasted time and carried himself like the storms bent to his will.
So when she stepped out of the diner with a coffee in hand and saw you standing by the convoy, chatting animatedly with Javi, her brain almost short-circuited.
You were nothing like the picture she’d built in her head of “Scott Miller’s other half.” She didn’t even know that Scott had another half. You were warm, laughing easily, your overalls stretched comfortably around your belly. You nudged Javi with your elbow after some joke, earning one of his rare grins, and then teased him about being the only one responsible enough to keep the equipment dry during lunch.
Kate blinked, staring between you and Scott, who was lurking a few feet away by his SUV, arms crossed, jaw tight, his gaze flicking constantly in your direction like he expected a tornado to materialize beside you at any second.
“You okay?” Kate asked him carefully.
Scott gave her a look like she’d asked if water was wet. “She shouldn’t be here.”
Kate tilted her head. “She seems fine to me.”
“She’s pregnant,” he said flatly, his eyes narrowing as you tipped your head back in laughter at something Javi muttered. “Pregnant. In the middle of Oklahoma. During storm season.”
Kate raised her brows. “And you’re letting her hang around the convoy?”
Scott’s scowl deepened. “I didn’t let her. She showed up.” He ran a hand over his face, muttering under his breath. “Drove halfway across the damn state just to ‘surprise’ me.”
Kate hid a smile behind her coffee. “You don’t sound very surprised. More… rattled.”
Scott cut her a sharp glare, but she noticed the way his shoulders eased slightly when you turned and caught his eye. You waved at him, bright and unapologetic. He shook his head, but his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile.
When you finally crossed the lot to join him, Scott straightened immediately, arms uncrossing as if to make room for you. You slipped easily under his arm, your hand finding its way to his chest.
“Did you eat?” you asked, tilting your head up at him.
“Yeah,” he muttered, though Kate noticed how his voice softened in a way she hadn’t heard before. “You?”
“Half a burger.” You grinned. “Baby’s been hogging all the space.”
Scott huffed out a laugh—an actual laugh—and pressed a quick kiss to your temple before glancing down at your belly. “Figures.”
Kate stared. She couldn’t reconcile it. This was the same Scott who, hours earlier, had snapped at her to recalibrate the radar faster, who hadn’t cracked a single joke since she joined the team. And yet here he was, letting you tease him, letting you lean into him, letting his edges soften like it was second nature.
When you looked over and caught Kate staring, you smiled wide and waved her over. “You must be Kate! I’ve heard about you. Come on, tell me everything. How’s Scott as a boss? Brutal?”
Scott groaned under his breath. “Don’t encourage her.”
Kate couldn’t help it, she laughed. “Oh, I think she already knows the answer to that.”
You winked. “Oh, I know. I just like hearing it from someone else.”
-
Tyler Owens’ trucks came skidding into the lot like they were pulling up for a rock concert instead of storm chasing. His crew piled out—laughing, loud, hyped up on adrenaline and caffeine. Tyler himself hopped down from the driver’s seat, sunglasses on even though the sun was dipping low, grin as wide as the horizon.
You were sitting on the tailgate of Javi’s truck, sipping water and stretching your legs. Overalls on, hair a bit windswept, hand absently resting on your belly. You didn’t think much of the new arrivals—until Tyler’s eyes landed on you.
“Well, hello there,” he drawled, striding over with all the confidence of a man who had never once been told no. “Didn’t realize this town came with its own welcome wagon.”
You blinked at him, caught off guard. “Uh… what?”
He leaned one arm against the truck beside you, giving you his best smolder. “Local girl, right? Figured someone as gorgeous as you wouldn’t let us outsiders just blow through without saying hi.”
For a beat, you just stared. Then you glanced down at yourself—at your very obvious baby bump pressing against your overalls—and then back at him. Surely he had to notice.
“…I’m pregnant,” you said, deadpan.
That only made Tyler’s grin widen. “Hey, I don’t discriminate. Beautiful is beautiful.”
Before you could come up with a response—because your brain had short-circuited at the sheer audacity—you noticed the sudden drop in temperature around you. Not from the weather. From the shadow that fell across both of you.
Scott.
He was standing there, arms crossed, jaw set, looking every inch the brooding storm chaser who’d sooner wrestle a tornado barehanded than let Tyler Owens breathe the same air as you. He didn’t say anything at first—just stared at Tyler with an intensity that made even Tyler falter.
“Uh…” Tyler cleared his throat, shifting slightly under the weight of that glare. “So, uh, this your…?”
“My wife,” Scott said flatly.
The words landed like a thunderclap.
Your lips twitched, fighting a laugh at the way Tyler actually leaned back, like the revelation had physically shoved him. “Wife,” he repeated, the cocky edge in his voice wobbling.
Scott stepped closer, close enough that Tyler had to crane his neck to keep eye contact. He was taller, broader, radiating a quiet, simmering possessiveness that said more than any threat could. “She’s not a local. She’s not interested. And if you ever so much as look at her again like that, I’ll—”
“—buy me a coffee and call it even?” Tyler cut in quickly, his grin snapping back on, though it wavered under Scott’s glare. “Got it. Loud and clear, big guy. Congratulations on the kid.”
With that, he backed away fast, practically jogging to rejoin his crew.
Scott exhaled slowly through his nose, his arm sliding automatically around your shoulders, drawing you into his side. You could feel the tension humming through him, the possessiveness that had spiked the second he’d seen Tyler lean in.
“You okay?” he asked you quietly, his thumb brushing over your arm.
You tilted your head up at him, fighting a smile. “I think I should be asking you that. You looked about ready to flatten him.”
Scott didn’t deny it. His eyes still tracked Tyler across the lot, like he half-expected the man to circle back. “He’s lucky he stopped when he did.”
You snorted, nudging him. “Scott Miller, storm chaser, baby-on-board bodyguard.”
His mouth twitched, almost a smile, but he shook his head. “Not funny.”
“It’s a little funny,” you teased.
“Not funny,” he insisted again, though his arm tightened around you as he steered you back toward the SUV. “And for the record, you’re not talking to him again.”
You laughed outright at that. “Jealous much?”
Scott didn’t answer, but the glare he shot Tyler’s way spoke volumes.
-
The diner lot had transformed into chaos. Radios crackled, gear clanged, engines roared to life—StormPar in full launch mode. The radar lit up with a cell just a few miles west, and Scott was in his element, pacing between vehicles like a general on the battlefield, barking orders with that clipped, no-nonsense tone.
He was so focused, so commanding, that you knew now was your moment.
While Scott stalked toward his SUV, you casually strolled in the opposite direction, aiming for one of the trucks. You even whistled innocently as you went, like you were just stretching your legs. Nobody questioned it; they were too busy scrambling.
You swung the door open, grinning as you climbed—well, waddled—into the passenger seat. The bump made it a bit awkward, but you got there, strapping yourself in like you belonged.
“Perfect,” you murmured. “Front-row seat to science.”
“Alright, Mike, you’re with me! Javi, take the east road with—” Scott turned, scanning the line of vehicles, and his words died mid-sentence.
Because there you were. Sitting like a queen on her throne, buckled in, already reaching for the glovebox like you belonged there.
For a second, Scott just… stared. His jaw worked, no sound coming out. Then his face went red, ears and all, and he stormed across the lot like a thunderhead about to burst.
Unfortunately, you’d barely started rummaging the glovebox for snacks before the shadow fell across the window. A very large shadow.
You froze. Slowly, you turned your head.
Scott.
He stood outside the truck, arms folded, jaw clenched so tight you were surprised his molars didn’t shatter. The vein in his temple pulsed like it had its own heartbeat.
“…hi, honey,” you said sweetly, giving him your best innocent smile.
“What,” he bit out, yanking the door open so hard it nearly swung off its hinges, “do you think you’re doing?”
You batted your eyelashes at him. “Going storm chasing, obviously. Thought I’d keep you company.”
“Absolutely not.” His voice jumped an octave, his hand braced on the frame of the door. “Out. Now.”
“But Scotty…” you whined, patting your bump for emphasis. “Baby and I want adventure. We can’t just sit around eating diner pie all day.”
Scott pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something that sounded a lot like blood pressure, through the roof, gonna kill me early. He reached for your seatbelt, being very careful with your baby bump.
“Oh, come on,” you pleaded, clinging dramatically to the seatbelt. “I just want to observe!”
Scott unbuckled you with one swift, practiced motion. “You are not observing anything except the Weather Channel in a safe, stationary building.”
Then he leaned in, practically scooping you under the arms like you weighed nothing at all.
You squealed dramatically as he hauled you out of the seat. “Scott! You can’t just manhandle a pregnant woman!”
“Watch me,” he gritted, setting you down firmly on the gravel.
“Scott—!”
“No.” He crouched slightly so you couldn’t miss the fire in his eyes. “You think this is funny? That storm could eat this town in ten minutes. You are pregnant. You are not stepping foot in a chase vehicle.”
You crossed your arms, sticking your chin out. “So you’re saying I can’t come.”
“I’m saying you absolutely cannot come,” he snapped, exasperated. “Not now, not later, not ever. End of discussion.”
“Wow.” You gasped theatrically. “My husband, the tyrant. Crushing my dreams of scientific discovery.”
Scott pinched the bridge of his nose like he was begging some higher power for patience. Behind him, Javi and Kate were openly watching, biting back grins.
“Don’t encourage her!” Scott barked at them without looking.
“I wasn’t,” Javi deadpanned, though his shoulders shook.
Kate muttered, “I mean, points for effort,” earning herself a death glare.
You smirked up at Scott, deliberately baiting him. “You know, I read somewhere that stress is bad for pregnant women. Maybe if you just let me come along, my blood pressure would be lower.”
Scott groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re going to be the death of me.” He jabbed a finger at you. “Inside. Motel. Now. Or so help me, I’ll tie you to the bedpost.”
Your eyes widened. “Kinky threat. Noted.”
He choked, sputtering, and you laughed all the way back to the motel while the rest of StormPar looked like they might collapse trying not to laugh themselves.
Behind you, you heard Javi mutter to Scott, “You’re doomed.”
And Scott’s immediate snarl, “Shut it!”
-
The convoy thundered down a back road, dust pluming behind the tires, storm clouds rolling like bruises overhead. Radios chattered, Javi rattled off radar readings from the passenger seat, but Scott’s grip on the wheel was… murderous. Knuckles white, jaw set, every tendon in his forearm straining.
Javi glanced sideways, waiting. Scott didn’t say anything for a solid thirty seconds, and then it all came out like a dam breaking.
“She’s doing it on purpose,” he growled, eyes fixed on the road. “She knows she can’t come with us. She knows how dangerous this is. And what does she do? Sneaks into the damn truck. Straps herself in like she’s about to go joyriding into a tornado. Do you know what that did to my blood pressure?!”
Javi, ever calm, just marked something on the tablet. “Oh, absolutely. She’s doing it on purpose.”
Scott snapped his head toward him. “Thank you! Finally, someone sees it. She’s baiting me, I swear.” He swung the truck around a bend, tires spitting gravel. “She sits there with that little smile, acting like she’s innocent, but I know. I know she’s laughing in her head.”
“She was laughing out loud, actually,” Javi corrected smoothly.
Scott’s nostrils flared. “Exactly. She thinks it’s funny. She—she actually accused me of being a tyrant! In front of the whole team!”
“Mm-hmm.” Javi didn’t look up from the radar.
“And then—” Scott’s voice pitched higher, halfway between outrage and disbelief. “Then she said I was being kinky! Kinky, Javi!”
That was too much. Javi slapped a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking.
Scott glared. “Don’t you dare laugh.”
Javi failed spectacularly, snorting into his hand. “You—pfft—you’re killing me, man.”
Scott groaned and thumped the steering wheel. “This isn’t funny. I can’t—I cannot chase storms and babysit my pregnant wife at the same time. She’s gonna give me a heart attack before the baby even gets here.”
“Mm,” Javi said, finally pulling himself together, still smiling. “Or maybe she just missed you so much she’d rather risk tornadoes than be away from you.”
Scott opened his mouth to argue. Closed it. Swore under his breath. His ears went red.
Javi smirked knowingly, jotting down another reading. “Thought so.”
Scott muttered, “She’s still never getting near a chase vehicle again.”
“Of course not,” Javi said, voice light. “You just keep telling yourself that.”
-
The storm had burned itself out by the time StormPar rolled back into town, their convoy pulling into the motel lot like a caravan of the world’s most exhausted warriors. Engines cut off one by one, doors slammed, boots scuffed over gravel. Everyone looked wrecked—windblown, damp, hair sticking in odd directions from hours of chasing down dirt roads.
Scott was the last to climb out of his truck. He rolled his shoulders, exhaustion pressing into him like a weight, but his mind was already on one thing: you.
He walked the narrow hall to your room, keyed open the door, and—
His chest tightened.
There you were, sprawled in the middle of the motel bed like you owned the place, hair mussed from napping, a paperback open but forgotten at your side. Your overalls were unbuttoned at the top for comfort, your baby bump rounding the thin motel blanket. The lamp cast you in warm light, softening the edges of a day that had been nothing but chaos.
You looked up when the door clicked, your face brightening instantly. “Scott!”
You shoved the book aside, bracing your hands to push yourself up—but the bump got in the way. You rolled once, twice, tried to leverage a pillow. Nothing. You made a sound halfway between a grunt and a growl. “Oh, come on—”
Scott leaned against the doorframe, biting back a laugh as he watched you struggle like a turtle flipped on its back. His lips twitched, and then the chuckle slipped out before he could stop it.
You froze, glaring at him. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“I’m not,” he lied, voice rough with fatigue but warm with amusement. “I swear I’m not.” Another laugh broke free. “Okay, maybe a little.”
“Scott Miller,” you huffed, flopping dramatically back onto the mattress, “you’re supposed to help your poor, immobile wife. Not stand there laughing at her suffering.”
He pushed off the frame and crossed to you, that faint smile lingering as he sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re not suffering,” he said gently, slipping a hand under your back to help ease you upright. “You’re just… adorable.”
Your eyes narrowed, suspicious. “Adorable?”
Scott bent down, pressed a kiss to your temple, then another to your bump. “Yeah. Adorable.” His voice softened even more. “And mine.”
You melted into him, arms circling his neck. “Fine. You’re forgiven. But only because you look like you’ve been wrestling with tornadoes all day.”
“Funny,” he murmured against your hair. “That’s exactly what I’ve been doing.”
When you finally managed to sit upright, he stayed close, one hand absently rubbing over your bump, the other tugging you against his side. For the first time all day, his shoulders loosened.
“Stay put,” he ordered softly, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “I’ll get cleaned up and then come back. Don’t you dare try sneaking into a truck again.”
You gasped in mock offense. “Would I do that?”
“Yes,” Scott deadpanned. “Absolutely.”
