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Sweeter Than Revenge 6
Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: Today is the day! You are riding with Tyler and Boone directly into a tornado. Get ready for an experience you'll never forget. Word Count: 3303 TW: Flirting, Kissing, Developing Feelings, Storm Danger, Scott Sucks, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages
Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)
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After breakfast, you helped Dexter and Lily clean up and prepare to leave for the first chase of the day. You gathered up the trash bags, jogged the short distance to the dumpsters, and tossed them in. When you turned around, you jumped as you found Tyler standing in front of you.
Clutching your chest, you swore, “Damn it! Why does everyone have to keep popping up and scaring me!”
He grinned, swaggering forward as he said, “I saw that little show you put on with Boone. It seems like you might not be over that revengeful streak of yours after all.” He stopped a few feet from you.
You lifted one shoulder as you tilted your head down so you could look up at him from under your lashes. “What can I say, some habits are hard to break.” Stepping closer until your chest almost grazed his, you lifted your head and stared unwaveringly into his eyes. “And sometimes people need to be reminded they aren’t the only ones who can tease or play games. Or that maybe they aren’t as smooth as they think they are and others can see through their bullshit deflections.”
Tilting his head, almost in a sign of deference, he murmured, “Good to know. Maybe you should take your own advice.” 
He leaned his head closer to yours…then pivoted and walked back towards his truck, once again leaving you flustered and your cheeks burning. As you silently cursed him, he yelled over his shoulder, “Oh, you might wanna have a talk with Boone about that little act before he shows up at your room with flowers and a box of chocolates.” 
You rolled your eyes and trudged after him.
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It turned out, Tyler may not have been exaggerating. When you made it back to the camper van, Boone was there waiting for you, asking if you needed any help or if he could carry something for you or if you wanted something to drink or—
You couldn’t see Tyler, but you swore you heard him snickering somewhere nearby. 
As politely as possible, you explained to Boone that while you appreciated his offers, you were fine and that you hoped he didn’t get the wrong impression from your hug earlier. Boone’s face flushed as he stammered out a few “‘course not”s and “we’re cool”s before excusing himself and slinking away. You felt really bad at essentially using him, especially after he had been nothing but kind to you. Once again, you kicked yourself for allowing the old you to come to the surface and not having the self-control to stop playing games. 
Luckily, everything seemed to be forgotten by the time you joined Tyler and Boone at the red pickup a few minutes later. Boone was back to his usual excitable self as he prepared his camera and showed you how everything worked. Between his handheld with the live stream and the several other cameras mounted in the truck capturing video to be edited later, it was actually more complex than you had imagined. It seemed as if you really had underestimated Boone, and that made you feel even worse for involving him in your scheme earlier.
Then suddenly, it was time to roll out. You had been so focused on your behavior that morning that you hadn’t thought about what was about to happen next. As the last of the bags were stowed away in one of the vans and Dexter did one last run down of the current weather patterns, a knot began to form in the pit of your stomach. Telling yourself you would be driving into the middle of a tornado today had been one thing. Now facing the very real fact it was about to happen, you wondered if you should have skipped breakfast. 
On trembling legs, you walked over to Tyler’s truck and reached to open the back door. But just as your fingers closed around the handle, an arm draped itself across your shoulders. “Nuh uh, sweetheart. You’ve got shotgun.” 
You turned to face Tyler, the knot that had been forming in your stomach tightening. “But I thought Boone—”
“Boone can get plenty of footage from the back. But this being your first time wrangling a storm, we want to make sure you have a front-row seat to the action.” Tyler opened the passenger door for you. When you hesitated, he raised an eyebrow. “Unless you’re having second thoughts about riding with us? There’s always room for you in one of the other vans.”
Swallowing hard, you said, “No. I-I can do this.” 
You started to climb in, but Tyler grabbed your arm. Positioning himself so no one else could see you between his body and his truck, he softly murmured, “Listen, it’s okay if you don’t want to. You don’t have to do this to try and prove something to anyone, even to yourself. Just coming with us after the storm like you did yesterday already puts you on the list of the bravest people I’ve ever met. And no one—not me, not your brother—no one can ever take that away from you. But—” he leaned over so the brim of his hat brushed against the top of your head and his thumb caressed your arm “—if you do want to go, I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. It’s your choice.”
The sincerity in his tone left no doubt that he meant what he said. If you decided to ride with Lily or Dani and Dexter instead, there would be no judgment. Tyler wouldn’t look down on you or think less of you for it, and that was all you needed to make up your mind.
Shooting him a grateful smile, you said, “Thanks, but I really do want to do this. And I always feel safe with you, Tyler, so I know this time won’t be any different.”
He grinned. “Alright then. Let’s go wrangle us a tornado.” 
He squeezed your arm one last time before helping you climb into the truck. Then he shut your door and hurried over to the driver’s side. Boone hopped in the back seat with an excited whoop just as Tyler’s door slammed shut.
You quickly buckled your seatbelt—trying to not think about the thick harness you hadn’t noticed the last time you rode up here—and settled back into your seat. But you froze as you looked out the windshield and saw Javi and Scott standing the Storm PAR vehicles still parked next to the main office. They were both staring right at you: Javi’s expression somewhat concerned yet accepting while Scott’s was nothing but pure apathy. 
You wondered if Javi told Scott the two of you had talked last night, though you hoped he kept it to himself. Not for your sake (you doubted it would have changed Scott’s opinion of you) but you didn’t want Javi to put himself into an uncomfortable position playing mediator for his business partner and said business partner’s sister. 
Tyler noticed who you were staring at and asked, “We good to go?”
You sighed. “Let’s do this.”
He nodded and started the engine. Easing the truck forward slowly, he rolled down his window and when he pulled alongside the group from Storm PAR, Tyler shouted, “Hey, Scotty! Make sure you watch the stream today so you don’t miss out on your sister’s first time driving headfirst into a tornado!”
You maintained eye contact with Scott, waiting for him to demand you get out of the truck or refuse to let you do something this dangerous. But instead, he just scoffed as he folded his arms across his chest. “Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it. She was scared of thunder until she was a teenager. Trust me, she’ll be begging you to turn the truck around before you get a hundred feet from a storm.”
Lowering your eyes, you sunk further into your seat. Not only had he shaken the little confidence Tyler had helped build up in you, but Scott had just revealed something utterly embarrassing to your new friends. It was true that you had cowered under your covers or hidden from all windows in the middle of bad thunderstorms well into your teenage years, but you had gotten past it. However, you didn’t want the people who faced some of nature’s most dangerous weather on a daily basis to know that!
For a long moment, Tyler just stared at your brother. Then, shaking his head, he asked, “What is wrong with you?” before pulling out onto the road. 
Once the motel had disappeared in the rearview mirror, Tyler reached over and rested his hand on your knee. “Hey, don’t listen to him, okay? He’s just trying to get under your skin. You got this.”
You nodded and tried to smile at him, but you could tell it didn’t look as confident as you hoped. 
From behind you, Boone let out a low whistle. “That dude’s really your brother?” You nodded. “Dang, no wonder you decided to hang out with us instead. He sucks.”
The unexpectedness of that assessment caused a burst of laughter to escape your lips. Tyler glanced over, grinning and squeezing your knee. Your smile widened, feeling less forced and more genuine. Looking at the other storm chaser in the visor mirror, you chuckled. “Yeah, Boone. He really does suck.”
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Tyler had mentioned he was looking for a smaller EF1 or EF2 for your first time out. However, the storm the Wranglers ame across looked much bigger than that. It was at least twice as wide as the tornado you saw yesterday, yet Tyler and Boone didn’t seem the least bit concerned. If anything, they seemed more excited than you had ever seen them before.
As the sky grew darker and the truck began to sway slightly in the increasing winds, you dug your fingers into the interior of the truck so tightly that your knuckles cracked. Scott was right. You weren’t brave enough for this. What the hell were you thinking wanting to go on a chase? It wasn’t a game. Thousands of people were injured or killed in tornados every year and now you were going to just drive up next to one? Possibly even into one? This was insane!
Seemingly sensing your mounting fear, Boone leaned forward, his head poking between you and Tyler, as he looked at his friend. “You sure she’s ready for this, T? I mean, no offense, but this one might be a little much for someone who's never done this before.”
But Tyler just grinned. “Nah, she’ll be fine. Won’t you, sweetheart?”
You nodded, your eyes wide in terror as you stared at the approaching storm. “Y-yeah. I’ll be fine.” 
Your voice betrayed the anxiety that was flooding every cell of your body, but Tyler reached over and took your hand, prying it carefully off the center console and giving it a tight squeeze. The small gesture instantly caused the panic rising within you to mellow slightly. The idea of what you were about to do still terrified you, but knowing Tyler was behind the wheel made it somewhat bearable. 
He nodded to the harness hanging limply on the sides of the seat. “We won’t need those for a bit, but you might feel a little more comfortable if you strap in now. You know, just in case.”
Immediately, you slipped your hand from his and began fumbling with the harness. It seemed pretty straightforward but seeing how your hands were shaking, it’s more difficult than you initially thought. Without taking his eyes off the road, Tyler reached over and straightened the strap that was twisted across your chest. Then he helped you click it into place before taking your hand once more. However, this time, he raised it to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back. It was more demure than the kiss he had placed there last night, but it still sent the same thrill through you all the way down to your toes. You quickly glanced in the visor mirror, but luckily it seemed Boone was too preoccupied with getting his camera set up to see what had just occurred. 
Tyler continued holding your hand until rain began pelting the windshield, the storm now looming so large in front of the truck that it seemed to block out everything else. You heard Boone starting his video introduction in the backseat but you didn’t register anything he said as you sat frozen in your seat staring at the approaching storm. It wasn’t until Boone nudged your shoulder rather forcefully that you realized he had been speaking to you. 
Shaking your head, you asked, “What?”
Boone chuckled nervously, glancing from the camera to you. “I said introduce yourself to the chat.”
“Oh, sorry.” You quickly said your name then continued to stare into the lens like a deer caught in the headlights as Boone left it focused on you, unsure of what else he wanted.
Luckily, Tyler came to your rescue. Grabbing Boone’s hand and swinging the camera to focus on him, he said, “Y’all probably remember me mentioning our newest Wrangler in yesterday’s stream. Well, she handled that storm like the pro she is so we thought we’d give her a shot at the main attraction today. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?” 
Tyler winked at you before turning the lens back in your direction. You smiled and nodded. “Yep! We’re gonna…wrangle us a tornado!”
It felt a bit stilted, but the pride and warmth radiating from Tyler as he looked at you made you feel like you had just given an Oscar Award-winning performance. You bit your lip and looked away as you felt the heat rushing to your cheeks. But then you remember what Tyler had said about you hiding your face when someone compliments you so you turn back and look him dead in the eye. The warm look on his face only intensified before he turned his attention back to the road ahead.
A few minutes later as he pulled the truck into the path of the storm, Tyler slowed to a stop. He flipped a few switches on the center console and pressed the red button on top of the joystick positioned there. You heard a whirring sound and the truck seemed to sink into the ground slightly. Tyler must have deployed the augers to lock the truck in place. Dani mentioned yesterday that they had never failed since they were installed and you prayed today wasn’t the day that changed.
But as the edge of the storm grew closer and closer, you felt a fresh wave of terror grip you. Placing both of your feet on your seat, you wrapped your arms around your knees, curling into yourself as much as the safety harness would allow. You focused all of your energy on your breathing, trying your hardest not to start hyperventilating. But as the tornado finally hit the front of the truck, you let out a small squeal and buried your head in your knees.
However…nothing happened. The truck didn’t flip wildly out of control. The windows didn’t shatter into a million pieces. The augers didn’t give out. 
Slowly, you raised your head. The entire truck shook and vibrated around you, the sensation sending tremors throughout your body. Outside, random bits of debris struck the truck but nothing seemed to be able to break through its upgraded structure. As the initial wall of wind passed by the truck and you found yourself deeper into the storm, you actually found yourself relaxing slightly, unfurling yourself where you had tucked into a tight ball. If something bad was going to happen, it would have been when the tornado first hit the truck. Right?
Tyler leaned over until his lips brushed the curve of your ear and he whispered. “Look up.”
You could just make out the words over the howl of the storm but you did what he said. Tilting forward, trembling as your face neared the windshield, you squinted up into the wind. For a moment, all you saw was dirt and debris swirling around. But then you noticed a smaller, tighter vortex dancing through the center almost as if there was a tornado within the tornado. And as you followed this swirl up, you gasped as you caught just a glimpse of the sky peaking through the opening of the funnel. It was one of the brightest blues you had ever seen and it was utterly magical. 
You looked over at Tyler. His face was beaming as he watched you and, in that moment, he was even more breathtaking than the storm. Time seemed to stop and nothing else existed besides the two of you. Not the storm, not Boone, not the camera, nothing.
Your eyes met…then so did your lips. You weren't even really sure who initiated it and you didn’t care. His lips molded against yours perfectly, his tongue dancing across the entrance of your mouth as he tested his boundaries. But when you parted your lips further, he slipped inside as he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and drew you closer. He tasted like coffee with just the hint of peppermint. And as his stubble scraped across your skin, you hummed at the shiver it sent racing down your spine. 
The kiss was everything you had been imagining and so much more. 
Needing more, you tried crawling across the center console to straddle his lap but something hugging you tightly across your chest stopped you. It was only then that you remembered the harness holding you into your seat. Your fingers scrambled against the buckle, finally unhooking it—
“And they say there ain’t no love in Oklahoma! Well, if that ain’t love, I don’t know what is!”
You and Tyler both jumped apart, startled by Boone’s joyful exclamation from the backseat. Horrified, you realized he had just filmed your kiss and broadcasted it live on the Wranglers’ YouTube channel. You buried your face in your hands, only peeking through the smallest crack to see Tyler’s reaction. 
He ran his fingers through his hair, brushing the fallen strands off his face as he muttered, “Boone–”
But his fellow storm chaser paid him no mind. “You saw it here first! The tornado wrangler himself has been wrangled by a new beau.”
“Boone.”
“And if any of you out there has ever wondered if two people could kiss in the middle of a tornado, I guess we have our answer!”
“Boone!” Tyler shot you an exasperated look and you lowered your hands, chuckling softly at the silliness of the whole situation. It was only then that you also noticed the storm had passed and everything outside the truck was now calm. Too bad the same couldn’t be said for inside the truck.
Tyler reached into the backseat and wrestled the camera out of Boone’s hands. Then, he took a breath and aimed the camera at himself as he plastered on a smile. “Well, I guess that’s it for today, folks. Things took a bit of an unexpected turn but in the middle of a storm, you never know what might happen! Thanks for watching and as always, if you feel it—” he leaned across the center console until his face was next to yours in the shot “—chase it.” And he pressed his lips against yours once again.
You could feel Tyler grinning against your mouth as you returned his kiss. Without pulling away, you reached out and covered the lens of the camera with your hand. The world had seen enough of you and Tyler for one day. However, if you had your way, the two of you were just getting started. 
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Part 7 coming 9/23!
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Sweeter Than Revenge 6
Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: Today is the day! You are riding with Tyler and Boone directly into a tornado. Get ready for an experience you'll never forget. Word Count: 3303 TW: Flirting, Kissing, Developing Feelings, Storm Danger, Scott Sucks, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages
Series Masterlist
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After breakfast, you helped Dexter and Lily clean up and prepare to leave for the first chase of the day. You gathered up the trash bags, jogged the short distance to the dumpsters, and tossed them in. When you turned around, you jumped as you found Tyler standing in front of you.
Clutching your chest, you swore, “Damn it! Why does everyone have to keep popping up and scaring me!”
He grinned, swaggering forward as he said, “I saw that little show you put on with Boone. It seems like you might not be over that revengeful streak of yours after all.” He stopped a few feet from you.
You lifted one shoulder as you tilted your head down so you could look up at him from under your lashes. “What can I say, some habits are hard to break.” Stepping closer until your chest almost grazed his, you lifted your head and stared unwaveringly into his eyes. “And sometimes people need to be reminded they aren’t the only ones who can tease or play games. Or that maybe they aren’t as smooth as they think they are and others can see through their bullshit deflections.”
Tilting his head, almost in a sign of deference, he murmured, “Good to know. Maybe you should take your own advice.” 
He leaned his head closer to yours…then pivoted and walked back towards his truck, once again leaving you flustered and your cheeks burning. As you silently cursed him, he yelled over his shoulder, “Oh, you might wanna have a talk with Boone about that little act before he shows up at your room with flowers and a box of chocolates.” 
You rolled your eyes and trudged after him.
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It turned out, Tyler may not have been exaggerating. When you made it back to the camper van, Boone was there waiting for you, asking if you needed any help or if he could carry something for you or if you wanted something to drink or—
You couldn’t see Tyler, but you swore you heard him snickering somewhere nearby. 
As politely as possible, you explained to Boone that while you appreciated his offers, you were fine and that you hoped he didn’t get the wrong impression from your hug earlier. Boone’s face flushed as he stammered out a few “‘course not”s and “we’re cool”s before excusing himself and slinking away. You felt really bad at essentially using him, especially after he had been nothing but kind to you. Once again, you kicked yourself for allowing the old you to come to the surface and not having the self-control to stop playing games. 
Luckily, everything seemed to be forgotten by the time you joined Tyler and Boone at the red pickup a few minutes later. Boone was back to his usual excitable self as he prepared his camera and showed you how everything worked. Between his handheld with the live stream and the several other cameras mounted in the truck capturing video to be edited later, it was actually more complex than you had imagined. It seemed as if you really had underestimated Boone, and that made you feel even worse for involving him in your scheme earlier.
Then suddenly, it was time to roll out. You had been so focused on your behavior that morning that you hadn’t thought about what was about to happen next. As the last of the bags were stowed away in one of the vans and Dexter did one last run down of the current weather patterns, a knot began to form in the pit of your stomach. Telling yourself you would be driving into the middle of a tornado today had been one thing. Now facing the very real fact it was about to happen, you wondered if you should have skipped breakfast. 
On trembling legs, you walked over to Tyler’s truck and reached to open the back door. But just as your fingers closed around the handle, an arm draped itself across your shoulders. “Nuh uh, sweetheart. You’ve got shotgun.” 
You turned to face Tyler, the knot that had been forming in your stomach tightening. “But I thought Boone—”
“Boone can get plenty of footage from the back. But this being your first time wrangling a storm, we want to make sure you have a front-row seat to the action.” Tyler opened the passenger door for you. When you hesitated, he raised an eyebrow. “Unless you’re having second thoughts about riding with us? There’s always room for you in one of the other vans.”
Swallowing hard, you said, “No. I-I can do this.” 
You started to climb in, but Tyler grabbed your arm. Positioning himself so no one else could see you between his body and his truck, he softly murmured, “Listen, it’s okay if you don’t want to. You don’t have to do this to try and prove something to anyone, even to yourself. Just coming with us after the storm like you did yesterday already puts you on the list of the bravest people I’ve ever met. And no one—not me, not your brother—no one can ever take that away from you. But—” he leaned over so the brim of his hat brushed against the top of your head and his thumb caressed your arm “—if you do want to go, I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. It’s your choice.”
The sincerity in his tone left no doubt that he meant what he said. If you decided to ride with Lily or Dani and Dexter instead, there would be no judgment. Tyler wouldn’t look down on you or think less of you for it, and that was all you needed to make up your mind.
Shooting him a grateful smile, you said, “Thanks, but I really do want to do this. And I always feel safe with you, Tyler, so I know this time won’t be any different.”
He grinned. “Alright then. Let’s go wrangle us a tornado.” 
He squeezed your arm one last time before helping you climb into the truck. Then he shut your door and hurried over to the driver’s side. Boone hopped in the back seat with an excited whoop just as Tyler’s door slammed shut.
You quickly buckled your seatbelt—trying to not think about the thick harness you hadn’t noticed the last time you rode up here—and settled back into your seat. But you froze as you looked out the windshield and saw Javi and Scott standing the Storm PAR vehicles still parked next to the main office. They were both staring right at you: Javi’s expression somewhat concerned yet accepting while Scott’s was nothing but pure apathy. 
You wondered if Javi told Scott the two of you had talked last night, though you hoped he kept it to himself. Not for your sake (you doubted it would have changed Scott’s opinion of you) but you didn’t want Javi to put himself into an uncomfortable position playing mediator for his business partner and said business partner’s sister. 
Tyler noticed who you were staring at and asked, “We good to go?”
You sighed. “Let’s do this.”
He nodded and started the engine. Easing the truck forward slowly, he rolled down his window and when he pulled alongside the group from Storm PAR, Tyler shouted, “Hey, Scotty! Make sure you watch the stream today so you don’t miss out on your sister’s first time driving headfirst into a tornado!”
You maintained eye contact with Scott, waiting for him to demand you get out of the truck or refuse to let you do something this dangerous. But instead, he just scoffed as he folded his arms across his chest. “Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it. She was scared of thunder until she was a teenager. Trust me, she’ll be begging you to turn the truck around before you get a hundred feet from a storm.”
Lowering your eyes, you sunk further into your seat. Not only had he shaken the little confidence Tyler had helped build up in you, but Scott had just revealed something utterly embarrassing to your new friends. It was true that you had cowered under your covers or hidden from all windows in the middle of bad thunderstorms well into your teenage years, but you had gotten past it. However, you didn’t want the people who faced some of nature’s most dangerous weather on a daily basis to know that!
For a long moment, Tyler just stared at your brother. Then, shaking his head, he asked, “What is wrong with you?” before pulling out onto the road. 
Once the motel had disappeared in the rearview mirror, Tyler reached over and rested his hand on your knee. “Hey, don’t listen to him, okay? He’s just trying to get under your skin. You got this.”
You nodded and tried to smile at him, but you could tell it didn’t look as confident as you hoped. 
From behind you, Boone let out a low whistle. “That dude’s really your brother?” You nodded. “Dang, no wonder you decided to hang out with us instead. He sucks.”
The unexpectedness of that assessment caused a burst of laughter to escape your lips. Tyler glanced over, grinning and squeezing your knee. Your smile widened, feeling less forced and more genuine. Looking at the other storm chaser in the visor mirror, you chuckled. “Yeah, Boone. He really does suck.”
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Tyler had mentioned he was looking for a smaller EF1 or EF2 for your first time out. However, the storm the Wranglers ame across looked much bigger than that. It was at least twice as wide as the tornado you saw yesterday, yet Tyler and Boone didn’t seem the least bit concerned. If anything, they seemed more excited than you had ever seen them before.
As the sky grew darker and the truck began to sway slightly in the increasing winds, you dug your fingers into the interior of the truck so tightly that your knuckles cracked. Scott was right. You weren’t brave enough for this. What the hell were you thinking wanting to go on a chase? It wasn’t a game. Thousands of people were injured or killed in tornados every year and now you were going to just drive up next to one? Possibly even into one? This was insane!
Seemingly sensing your mounting fear, Boone leaned forward, his head poking between you and Tyler, as he looked at his friend. “You sure she’s ready for this, T? I mean, no offense, but this one might be a little much for someone who's never done this before.”
But Tyler just grinned. “Nah, she’ll be fine. Won’t you, sweetheart?”
You nodded, your eyes wide in terror as you stared at the approaching storm. “Y-yeah. I’ll be fine.” 
Your voice betrayed the anxiety that was flooding every cell of your body, but Tyler reached over and took your hand, prying it carefully off the center console and giving it a tight squeeze. The small gesture instantly caused the panic rising within you to mellow slightly. The idea of what you were about to do still terrified you, but knowing Tyler was behind the wheel made it somewhat bearable. 
He nodded to the harness hanging limply on the sides of the seat. “We won’t need those for a bit, but you might feel a little more comfortable if you strap in now. You know, just in case.”
Immediately, you slipped your hand from his and began fumbling with the harness. It seemed pretty straightforward but seeing how your hands were shaking, it’s more difficult than you initially thought. Without taking his eyes off the road, Tyler reached over and straightened the strap that was twisted across your chest. Then he helped you click it into place before taking your hand once more. However, this time, he raised it to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back. It was more demure than the kiss he had placed there last night, but it still sent the same thrill through you all the way down to your toes. You quickly glanced in the visor mirror, but luckily it seemed Boone was too preoccupied with getting his camera set up to see what had just occurred. 
Tyler continued holding your hand until rain began pelting the windshield, the storm now looming so large in front of the truck that it seemed to block out everything else. You heard Boone starting his video introduction in the backseat but you didn’t register anything he said as you sat frozen in your seat staring at the approaching storm. It wasn’t until Boone nudged your shoulder rather forcefully that you realized he had been speaking to you. 
Shaking your head, you asked, “What?”
Boone chuckled nervously, glancing from the camera to you. “I said introduce yourself to the chat.”
“Oh, sorry.” You quickly said your name then continued to stare into the lens like a deer caught in the headlights as Boone left it focused on you, unsure of what else he wanted.
Luckily, Tyler came to your rescue. Grabbing Boone’s hand and swinging the camera to focus on him, he said, “Y’all probably remember me mentioning our newest Wrangler in yesterday’s stream. Well, she handled that storm like the pro she is so we thought we’d give her a shot at the main attraction today. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?” 
Tyler winked at you before turning the lens back in your direction. You smiled and nodded. “Yep! We’re gonna…wrangle us a tornado!”
It felt a bit stilted, but the pride and warmth radiating from Tyler as he looked at you made you feel like you had just given an Oscar Award-winning performance. You bit your lip and looked away as you felt the heat rushing to your cheeks. But then you remember what Tyler had said about you hiding your face when someone compliments you so you turn back and look him dead in the eye. The warm look on his face only intensified before he turned his attention back to the road ahead.
A few minutes later as he pulled the truck into the path of the storm, Tyler slowed to a stop. He flipped a few switches on the center console and pressed the red button on top of the joystick positioned there. You heard a whirring sound and the truck seemed to sink into the ground slightly. Tyler must have deployed the augers to lock the truck in place. Dani mentioned yesterday that they had never failed since they were installed and you prayed today wasn’t the day that changed.
But as the edge of the storm grew closer and closer, you felt a fresh wave of terror grip you. Placing both of your feet on your seat, you wrapped your arms around your knees, curling into yourself as much as the safety harness would allow. You focused all of your energy on your breathing, trying your hardest not to start hyperventilating. But as the tornado finally hit the front of the truck, you let out a small squeal and buried your head in your knees.
However…nothing happened. The truck didn’t flip wildly out of control. The windows didn’t shatter into a million pieces. The augers didn’t give out. 
Slowly, you raised your head. The entire truck shook and vibrated around you, the sensation sending tremors throughout your body. Outside, random bits of debris struck the truck but nothing seemed to be able to break through its upgraded structure. As the initial wall of wind passed by the truck and you found yourself deeper into the storm, you actually found yourself relaxing slightly, unfurling yourself where you had tucked into a tight ball. If something bad was going to happen, it would have been when the tornado first hit the truck. Right?
Tyler leaned over until his lips brushed the curve of your ear and he whispered. “Look up.”
You could just make out the words over the howl of the storm but you did what he said. Tilting forward, trembling as your face neared the windshield, you squinted up into the wind. For a moment, all you saw was dirt and debris swirling around. But then you noticed a smaller, tighter vortex dancing through the center almost as if there was a tornado within the tornado. And as you followed this swirl up, you gasped as you caught just a glimpse of the sky peaking through the opening of the funnel. It was one of the brightest blues you had ever seen and it was utterly magical. 
You looked over at Tyler. His face was beaming as he watched you and, in that moment, he was even more breathtaking than the storm. Time seemed to stop and nothing else existed besides the two of you. Not the storm, not Boone, not the camera, nothing.
Your eyes met…then so did your lips. You weren't even really sure who initiated it and you didn’t care. His lips molded against yours perfectly, his tongue dancing across the entrance of your mouth as he tested his boundaries. But when you parted your lips further, he slipped inside as he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and drew you closer. He tasted like coffee with just the hint of peppermint. And as his stubble scraped across your skin, you hummed at the shiver it sent racing down your spine. 
The kiss was everything you had been imagining and so much more. 
Needing more, you tried crawling across the center console to straddle his lap but something hugging you tightly across your chest stopped you. It was only then that you remembered the harness holding you into your seat. Your fingers scrambled against the buckle, finally unhooking it—
“And they say there ain’t no love in Oklahoma! Well, if that ain’t love, I don’t know what is!”
You and Tyler both jumped apart, startled by Boone’s joyful exclamation from the backseat. Horrified, you realized he had just filmed your kiss and broadcasted it live on the Wranglers’ YouTube channel. You buried your face in your hands, only peeking through the smallest crack to see Tyler’s reaction. 
He ran his fingers through his hair, brushing the fallen strands off his face as he muttered, “Boone–”
But his fellow storm chaser paid him no mind. “You saw it here first! The tornado wrangler himself has been wrangled by a new beau.”
“Boone.”
“And if any of you out there has ever wondered if two people could kiss in the middle of a tornado, I guess we have our answer!”
“Boone!” Tyler shot you an exasperated look and you lowered your hands, chuckling softly at the silliness of the whole situation. It was only then that you also noticed the storm had passed and everything outside the truck was now calm. Too bad the same couldn’t be said for inside the truck.
Tyler reached into the backseat and wrestled the camera out of Boone’s hands. Then, he took a breath and aimed the camera at himself as he plastered on a smile. “Well, I guess that’s it for today, folks. Things took a bit of an unexpected turn but in the middle of a storm, you never know what might happen! Thanks for watching and as always, if you feel it—” he leaned across the center console until his face was next to yours in the shot “—chase it.” And he pressed his lips against yours once again.
You could feel Tyler grinning against your mouth as you returned his kiss. Without pulling away, you reached out and covered the lens of the camera with your hand. The world had seen enough of you and Tyler for one day. However, if you had your way, the two of you were just getting started. 
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Part 7 coming 9/23!
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writercole · 17 hours
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I Can Fix Him
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Summary: Rivals with benefits turns into something…more.
Words: 1700ish
Warnings: 18+. NSFW. Brat taming, rough sex, orgasm denial, breeding kink, condescension
Credits: No beta; @clairewritesandrambles for the encouragement.
A/N: I…I don’t know where this came from. I don’t know what this is. I don’t know what the word sorry means in this case because I am not.
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“What did you say?” 
Scott’s voice echoed through the room despite the quiet way he spoke. It boomed in your ears and you fought the urge to smile.
“I’m pretty sure you heard me. Or is your hearing gone, too?”
It had been one of the longest days on record, definitely one of the longest in your history with Scott Miller, MIT graduate and royal pain in your ass. He was brilliant, there was no denying it. But his people skills were…rusty. 
He stalked forward like a tiger protecting his pride, muscles tense and coiled to strike at the right moment. He stopped just short of standing on your shoes and glared down at you, his eyes dark and clouded. “Apologize.”
The growl sent a shiver down your spine. You suppressed it as best as you could, raising your chin defiantly as you met his fiery gaze. “No.”
The chuckle surprised you, rumbling deep from his chest. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you. I think it’s time we put it to good use.” 
Before you could retort, his large hand forced your jaw open and his tongue pushed into your mouth. This wasn’t a new thing with the two of you; rivals with benefits would perfectly describe your relationship if you weren’t forced to be a partner to him.
Your body melted into him and he dropped his hand from your jaw to your ass, his beefy arms lifting you with ease and backing you against the wall, keeping you at his near six and a half foot tall face instead of stooping down to move his lips against yours. 
You were suddenly glad you’d chosen the skirt today.
Scott’s thick torso pressed you against the wall as his hands slid under your dress. He found your core covered with a pair of cotton panties and he growled, pulling back. 
“Why do you wear underwear when you know I’m going just going to fuck the brat out of you?”
“I can’t make it that easy for you, Scotty.” The sneer on his lips before he ripped a hole in your crotch was worth whatever else came from calling him by the nickname he despised. 
“You’re going to pay for that.” 
His hands deftly unbuckled his belt and pulled his thick cock out, stroking it a few times before dropping you down the wall a few inches to press the head of his cock against your dripping entrance. A raise of his eyebrow conveyed all of the questions that came with this situation; a slight nod gave him the answer.
He thrust inside of you in one swift motion and you tipped your head back against the wall, moaning loudly and not caring if anyone could hear you.
He stayed still for a long moment. It was easy to think that he was letting you adjust to his size but you knew better. You squirmed against him in an attempt to get friction until his hands pinned your hips down.
“Tsk, tsk. You know what you need to do.”
“Scott, come on,” you huffed.
“Is that what you want? I’ll gladly paint your face. But if you want something else, you’ve got to put that poisoned tongue to work. Beg for it.”
Your mouth closed and you stared him down, both of you too stubborn to give in at the moment. Seconds ticked by and neither of you relented. Then he shrugged and started to step back.
“I guess I am painting your face then.”
“No, Scott, wait,” you rushed out. You squeezed your eyes shut and clutched his shoulders, gritting your teeth as you said the next words. “Please, Scott. Please, I need your cock. I need you to fuck me.”
“I think you can do better than that,” he tutted. Adjusting his grip, he slid you down the wall half an inch more until your clit was pressed against him, giving you that delicious pressure without any friction to go with it.
“Scott, please. I need it. I need you.”
“You need what?”
“I need you to fuck me.”
“Fuck your face?”
“No! You know what I need you to do!”
“Fuck your hands until I come on your tits?”
“Scott!” you shrieked, desperation dripping from your words. 
“Tell me or I walk away and deal with it myself,” he threatened. “I probably won’t even need to spit on it. You’re soaking my cock enough that I can probably use that and get off in a couple of minutes.”
“Scott, I need you to fuck my wet pussy with your thick cock. Please, Scott, please, I’m begging, I’ll do anything.” 
“Good enough,” he smirked and started thrusting, long, slow, deep thrusts, dragging against your inner walls, letting you feel every ridge, every vein.
You moaned and keened, nails scrambling against that dress shirt trying to find something, anything to ground you.
“Not so talkative now, hmm? Maybe I should knock you up, keep you too busy stuffing your face full of ice cream and pizza to run that mouth of yours.”
Scott had long exploited your enjoyment of dirty talk and his condescension but this was the first time he tapped into this particular kink, this certain phrasing. And it had you clenching around him as your first orgasm washed over you.
“Oh, did I hit a nerve?” he cooed as he sped up. “Little brat wants to be bred.”
“Yes, yes, oh my god.” Your chants became more rhythmic as your second release built deep within you.
You shouted when he stopped. “Scott, I was so close.”
“Oh, I know.” His mocking tone sent a shock through your core and your walls spasmed, an involuntary moan exiting his mouth. “You’ll come on my cock when I’m good and ready for you to.”
“Please, please, Scott, please don’t make me wait.”
“Where’s the fun in that, hmm?” Two long, slow thrusts drew hums of satisfaction from deep within his chest - and needy whines from  your mouth.
“Scott!”
“You know what you should do if you want me to speed up.”
“Scott, please, I need it faster.”
“Need what?”
“I need you to fuck me faster. I need to come on your cock. I need to -”
Your words were cut off when a particularly deep and hard thrust punched the air from your lungs. Scott chased after his release like a man possessed, faster and faster.
“You need me faster now? Is this good?”
“Yes!”
“Do you want me to come?”
“Please, Scott, fill me up. I want you to make me a cum dumpster!”
“How about I make you a mother?”
“Please, breed me. Please!” Your voice broke as tears fell from your eyes. It was so good, so intense. You needed every part of him, all of it. 
“There’s my good little girl,” he chanted. “God you’d look so good with a round belly. Growing my baby. You want that? Yeah, you want that. Let’s make that happen. Let go. It’s okay. Milk my cock. Make me come.”
Your release hit hard. Your vision went white and your ears rang. You were vaguely aware of Scott’s grunts and praise as he sank his cock deep inside, his hands clutching your ass for dear life as he spilled every drop of his seed in you.
You leaned against his chest panting and he stepped forward to press you further against the wall, holding the both of you up with the tension in his hips and abs. Your chests heaved with heavy breaths as your hearts returned to normal and your minds cleared.
It was then that you processed what you had agreed to, begged for. It was then that you realized that he had, in fact, not used a condom this time. And it was then that you realized you were actually okay with the idea. 
A baby with Scott? It wouldn’t be easy. But you had time to whip him into shape.
He pulled out and set you down on the floor before tucking himself back into his pants and avoiding your gazing. “You, uh, you need to clean up or something?” 
“Scott, look at me.”
“I mean, I gotta -”
You wrapped your hand around his wrist and stood in front of him, forcing yourself into his line of sight. “Shouldn’t we talk about what just happened?”
“It’s not the first time we fucked.”
“It is the first time you said some of those things. And the first time neither of us remembered a condom.”
“It’s not a big deal. Heat of the moment,” he shrugged.
“You won’t even look at me.”
He turned and looked at you for the first time since he pulled out of your pussy. You almost thought he was…embarrassed? But that couldn’t be right. “Scott?”
“What do you want me to say, huh? That you are on my mind day and night? That your teasing is the best part of my day? That I’m not sorry about what I said while I was balls deep inside of you because it’s the truth? Is that what you want to hear?”
“Is…is that the truth?”
He sighed heavily and put his hands on his hips. “Yeah. Yeah it is.”
“What if I want something more with you?”
His head tilted and he looked over at you, brows knitting together and jaw dropping. “Huh?”
“What if,” you repeated as you stepped into his space, “I wanted something more with you? What if I would be okay with having a baby with you? If you showed me you could be a good partner.”
“You want that?”
“I do. And I didn’t know it until just now.”
“You want that…with me?”
“Is that hard to believe?”
“Have you met me? I’m kind of an asshole,” he admitted.
“Eh, I can fix that.” A grin spread across your face as you looked up into his face. 
“Fix that, huh? Maybe I could work on that. For you.” A soft smile crossed his lips and his hand cupped your cheek before he leaned down and kissed you softly. 
“So does this mean I’m your brat?”
“Yep. My brat to fuck whenever I want. My brat to breed. My brat to date and love and maybe marry one day.”
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─── Masterlist ───
❀ Denotes Smut/NSFW Content
↠ Fics ↞
↠ One-Shots ↞
↠ Drabbles ↞
↳ Soft morning kiss
↳ "Scott needily grabbing your ass when he’s cums when you’re on top…" ❀
↳ Alphabet game (C, G, M, Q, T) ❀
↳ Alphabet game (I)
↳ Alphabet game (S, T, W, Z)
↳ Alphabet game (F, K)
↳ Alphabet game (D, J, Y)
↳ Alphabet game (B, D, J) ❀
↳ Alphabet game (A, C, G, H)
↳ Alphabet game (V, E, E) ❀
↳ Alphabet game (U)
─── WIPs ───
❀ Denotes Smut/NSFW Content
↠ Fics ↞
↳ Scott Miller x OC ❀ ↬ Enemies to Friends with Benefits to Lovers, Grumpy x Sunshine, Everyone Sees It But Them
↳ Scott Miller x OC ❀ ↬ Rivals to Lovers, Tyler's Sister, Grumpy x Sunshine
↳ Scott Miller x Reader ❀ ↬ Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, "No One Bullies Her But Me," Hometown Return
↠ One-Shots ↞
↳ Scott Miller x Reader ↬ Second Chance Romance, Frenemies to Lovers, "It's Always Been You"
↳ Scott Miller x Reader ❀ ↬ CNC, Porn With Minimal Plot
↳ Scott Miller x Reader x Javi Rivera ❀ ↬ Threesome, Pre-Established Relationship
↳ Scott Miller x Reader x Tyler Owen ❀ ↬ Threesome, Dare, Competitive, No Pre-Established Relationships
↠ Drabbles ↞
↳ Drunk Scott ❀
↳ Surprised kiss
↳ "I left you a note, did you read it?" "Yeah, I left you one back to tell you I read it!"
↳ "Giving them a head massage while they ramble about their day."
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elegantlyeva · 11 days
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Stupid Girl (fondly)
not really sure what this is, but the scott rot was real after watching twisters
Word Count: 1.4k
Summary: Scotts an asshole but he secretly cares (?)
Scott was irritated, although that wasn’t saying much, considering he usually was. The heat and lack of data they’d collected due to Javi following Kate around had him more on edge than usual. It didn’t help that you had been ignoring him.
There’s no way he would ever admit to the fact, but he missed you. He knew he’d messed up earlier, and you were usually more forgiving of his moods, but the heat seemed to have you on edge too.
Thinking about it now, you’re surprised the two of you hadn’t gotten into such a fight before this, considering the difference in your jobs. Scott profited off the tornado victims, and you offered your services for free.
During the calmer seasons, you worked as a nurse in a nearby clinic, and during tornado season, you normally frequented the towns with the most wreckage and helped the victims in any way you could.
Scott and you had met in a similar way, actually. He had been in one of the town’s aftermaths to help his uncle with marketing for Storm Par when he saw you. You were treating a small scrape on a kid no older than 10. Scott had rolled his eyes when he saw the kid’s tears. It was a scrape, and here you were doting on him like it was a gash. Once the kid had run off to find his mother, Scott approached you. Once he got closer, he noted you were… pretty. Not that he cared, obviously.
“He was fine,” Scott scoffed, almost annoyed.
You had been confused at first, mumbling, “Sorry?” as you stood to brush yourself off from where you had been crouching next to the boy.
“He’s gonna complain about a paper cut if he gets coddled like that,” he smacked his gum.
“He’s a kid. Plus, paper cuts hurt,” you countered, raising your head to look at him.
And not to be dramatic, but he was gorgeous. Maybe that’s why you ignored the obvious asshole demeanor he had.
Scott rolled his eyes. “He’s a wuss,” and he fought a smile at the offended look you had at his words.
You glared at him and almost argued, but decided he wasn’t worth your time. No matter how gorgeous.
Scott, unfortunately for him, could not say the same.  
“I’m Scott,” he said, even reaching out his hand. Not because he wanted to feel your hand or anything; he was doing it to be polite. At least, that’s what he told himself.
You rolled your eyes, but it was more lighthearted than anything, and told him your name, reaching out your own hand to shake his.
He was disturbed with himself for feeling so shocked at the contact. Your hand was so soft, and it made him want to pull you closer.
An intrusive thought. A vile intrusive thought that he blamed you for internally. You were trying to distract him with your pretty looks and soft hands. Well, Scott was stronger than that, so he vowed to himself he wouldn’t speak to you again.
That vow lasted about a week.
It wasn’t his fault, not really. You had been at almost every single one of the tornado aftermaths, and he had been dragged by Javi to two of them and by his uncle to one. And every single time, he found himself gravitating toward you to start a conversation.
You’d been less interested when he first approached you, wondering why you were in the town at all, especially since you weren’t getting paid.
He shut up soon after realizing how repulsed you seemed to be by the question.
By the second time, he knew to steer clear of certain topics and asked you more friendly questions, like where you grew up and why you were a nurse in the first place.
He figured out many things about you by the fourth time he’d seen you, and by the fifth, you had warmed up to him.
You learned he was smart. And not just in science and tornados. He was actually pretty well-rounded, just maybe not in social situations.
You learned he was cocky about almost everything: his education, wealth, success, and looks. Though, after having met his uncle, it made sense. The trait ran in the family, apparently.
You learned Scott was more fun than you originally thought. Maybe fun was an exaggeration, but he was certainly more.
Now, it’s been three weeks since you first met, and you’ve been ignoring him due to an impassive comment he made. How could you blame him? Nothing had been going according to plan, and Storm Par had hardly collected enough evidence since Kate and the YouTubers were in town.
So maybe telling you he found your job pointless wasn’t the smartest thing to do. What he had been trying to say was you should just stay at your clinic to help people from there. He thought it was pointless that you weren’t benefiting from helping them right at the scene.
You hadn’t liked that at all and called him an asshole right before retreating back to your medical tent that was set up.
Scott rolled his eyes, figuring you’d be over it in ten minutes, but then it became twenty, and thirty, and after an hour, Scott had to leave with Javi to follow up a storm. Hopefully getting there before Tyler and Kate.
It was all fine until Javi wanted to go follow Kate to the town the tornado was headed towards. Scott was upset. Of course, Javi wanted to go help them. It made his eye twitch; they needed the data.
He says the words of not caring about the victims before he can stop himself. He winces internally, and Javi looks at him horrified. However, Scott hadn’t planned on taking it back until,
“Your girlfriend is out there,” Javi pointed out, desperate to get through to him.
You were not his girlfriend. But Scott knew what he meant and fought the urge to hit the dashboard in frustration.
He cursed under his breath. “Well? Are you waiting for a green light? Fucking drive,” he grumbled, but the worry swelling in his chest was real.
The rest happened ten times as fast. The movie theater had been split in half, a couple dozen people taken by it, and Kate was somewhere in Tyler’s truck on a suicide mission, at least that’s what he heard later. He wasn’t there. No, after the tornado had stopped, even before it did, really, Scott was a frantic mess looking for you between the crowds.
You weren’t at the theater, nor at the gas station, and hadn’t been in any of the nearby stores. Scott’s heart sunk, and he was almost going to face the possibility that you might be dead. Almost.
As he was jogging up a block in search of you, he saw a small, crushed little shed. He was surprised the majority of it was still there, even though it had fully collapsed. That’s when he saw a hand. Not just any hand—your hand. He knew from staring at it long enough.
He rushed over in a panicky breath and called your name a few times before lifting some of the wood off you.
You groaned when you felt the weight being taken off you and felt dried blood near your temple.
“Scott?” you mumbled warily.
He let out a breath of relief. “Yeah. S’me.” Then, more firmly, “The fuck were you thinking, huh? You know better than to stay in a little shack. You’re damn lucky you didn’t get swept up.”
You smiled softly at his scolding. “I was helping a dog.” As if on cue, the puppy that was curled in your chest during the storm barked.
Scott glared, unamused. “You could’ve died,” he said bluntly, grabbing you by the arms softly, whispering apologies at your whimpers. He got you out of the destroyed shed (the dog too) and pulled you in for a hug. More for him than you. “I thought you died,” he stressed, quieter this time.
“You’d miss me,” you teased in a light voice, though the laughing made your ribs hurt.
He rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, holding you closer. “Stupid girl,” but the fondness in his voice wasn’t something he could hide.
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inknopewetrust · 13 days
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𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧
Summary: when the storm chasing is done and the weather doesn’t sit right, Scott is always there to reassure you everything will be alright [Scott Miller x Reader] [WC: 1.6k ish]
Warnings: none really. Fluffy romance, for once Scott isn’t an asshole, maybe a little suggestive at times but nothing that merits a warning. This fills the gap between the next massive Scott fic I’m writing.
Quick Links: Masterlist (including all twisters fics)
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In the middle of nowhere Oklahoma, the sounds of rain pattered on a front porch covered by a roof. Its meeting of wood had once been rhythmic. Each beat building anticipation of a storm in the distance—you loved that feeling.
And you curled up on the bench beside the door to watch it fall. Gently and softly until it drowned out the nothingness of your home.
It was heaven—if you just stayed awhile and simply listened.
On nights like these, Scott had learned the phases of your own storm chasing to a specific pattern.
The revelation that it was indeed going to rain came first. A light excitement that flashed before your eyes in hope that perhaps it would evolve into something far for exhilarating in the darkness. Second came the socks over your bare feet even after the evening had settled and there was no cause for it.
You’d be going outside—the moment the socks slipped over your toes he knew it.
And then when the rumbles or the pattern started, you’d be gone. Disappearing to the outdoors as though you’d live there in the wilderness to simply live amongst the weather.
He always questioned why you had never chased them, truly, yourself. Scott had never met someone so admiring of a natural phenomenon that exceeded your appreciation.
But it also happened to be a Friday night on this particular evening. One that was far and few between the longer the seasons lasted for his work and the end had just occurred. All he wanted was to hold you, feel you, love you, and yet you chose the storms he ran away from.
The thunder was sounding closer. The echos marched through the home you shared and he tapped on his leg in thought as the television set went out of service and the weather was all that was left.
So, he got up.
A prolonged squeal ached as the porch door opened beside you, taking the attention away from the sky alight with fireworks of Earth’s greatest display. From your spot on the bench, you looked up at Scott as he took in the sights you were captivated by.
It’d been so long since he’d been home that even in the darkness of your favorite storm, he’d still steal your attention. A blanket in hand, he was comfort embedded in the walls.
“I guess this is better than whatever’s on the tv, huh?” He commented gruffly. You shrugged, leaning your head back onto the siding.
“I can watch tv all day,” you countered. “It’s not everyday you get views like this.”
The lights captured you again. Breaking and busting through the clouds far away. It was beautifully bright.
“No,” he bit the inside of his cheek and shut the door. “You don’t.”
“Are you gonna sit with me?”
Scott knew you did not need to ask for him to sit with you yet you always did. An offer he couldn’t refuse—his heart wouldn’t let him. You stuck stakes into them and dragged him along for the rest of eternity in his eyes.
He hummed, holding out his hand covered with the blanket that normally rested on the back of the couch. Scott knocked his head to the side in instruction for you to move aside.
You shuffled to the end of the bench but knew it wasn’t enough. Therefore, you stood up, allowing him the space to sit on the furthest edge of the bench. Scott bent a knee, offering a hand and twinkle in his eye to you.
“Oh, look at you,” you quipped. “Such a gentleman.”
He tugged on your hand which only caused you to tumble into him. Knees meeting the bench with a thud, you caught yourself on his chest. His breath fanned your face as his chest lifted in a chuckle at your expense.
“I’m always a gentleman,” he feigned. “I don’t think you’d let me walk through the door if it wasn’t.”
“Well I don’t know if this is a gentleman’s way of handling their lover.”
A ghost of a smile met his lips. His eyes bared down to your lips before he pecked yours gently.
“There’s plenty of ways I can hold you if you ask nicely enough.”
“Uh huh,” you laughed. He let you go to turn your back to him before sitting down in the space between his legs. “How about you just hold me for now and we can decide on the rest later.”
Scott took the blanket he had brought and laid it over you both.
“You’ve got yourself a deal there, baby.”
You rested against his chest as the rain continued to rush to the ground. The sound, like before, drowned out everything else that didn’t matter as much as the shallow breathed of Scott and the hum of a constant pour.
It was perfect.
All of the love was filling a room that expanded beyond the porch of your house. You leaned your head back, relishing the feel of his head against yours as his arm wrapped around your front and held you securely. You’d bend every piece of you to rest forever in this position.
It was heaven.
“Hey,” against the rain, Scott’s voice murmured into your ear deep and calm. You turned your head into him as a signal of an answer.
“I love you,” he whispered.
And yeah, maybe it was more than heaven. Maybe it was something far better, more real than anything you had the imagination to conjure. To be loved unconditionally in the honesty of a stubborn man’s silence was a reward far beyond the peace only dreamt.
You were in your own heaven—one you were so lucky to have.
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A/N: thanks for reading! As always comments, reblog, and likes are always appreciated. I love hearing from all of you!!
Also this is not proofed at all as of today. Sorry for errors.
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fawgywindow · 2 months
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god gives his toughest battles to his toughest soldiers (i’m in love with a side character that doesn’t even have a last name and only like 10 minutes of screen time)
please send me scott content i’m starving
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rosemaryyyyy · 2 months
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If nobody gonna edit Scott from twisters then I will fcking do it
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mfishyguro · 29 days
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it is the only thing i could think of with this scene . i don’t ship them it’s just so funny
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decaying-opossum · 1 month
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ong the twisters brain rot has consumed me so bad 🤭 i’ve been trying to write a fic but my old blog is a mess so imma use this one. i got a 3 ideas for some fics, all of them being tyler owens/reader/scott..
1. reader is a smaller, independent storm chaser who’s just..there(?), im thinking maybe they’d be a youtuber like tyler but again smaller and more focused on just the traveling aspect of the job, idk this one is the most underdeveloped ideas
2 & 3 the reader is an old childhood friend of tyler’s
2. reader & tyler are childhood friends turn sweethearts but tyler is showing too much interest in kate and it’s making reader second guess things, and that 6’4 grumpy man is definitely stirring the pot to get at tyler(definitely not for any other reason..)
3. reader developed a crush on tyler in their teens but once he started bullriding and being around all the ladies and bucklebunnies at the rodeos they decided best to put some distance between them and the two grew apart, now with this one i haven’t decided if i want reader to just be working for storm par or if i want reader to be dating scott when them and tyler meet for the first time in years
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kai-ninjago · 1 month
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Rewatching twisters with what I know now is so fun— like watching Javi stare at Kate so adoringly, obviously infatuated with her, and then Scott clearly being jealous lmao
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Sweeter Than Revenge Part 1
Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: When you try to surprise your brother with a visit in the hopes of mending your strained relationship, it does not go as planned. Rudely dismissed by Scott, you decide to get a little revenge. And who better to do it with than the head Tornado Wrangler himself... Word Count: 3509 TW: Family Conflict, Brief Mention of Reader's Clothes/Breasts, Unsucessful Flirting, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages
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Grabbing your backpack off the seat beside you, you stood and joined the crowd of passengers making their way to the front of the bus. You stopped to let an elderly couple join the line in front of you and used the momentary pause to glance out the window at your destination. A small diner in need of a fresh coat of paint and a good window washing sat off to the left while several rows of gas pumps were lined up on the right. Trucks, vans, campers, and SUVs filled almost every parking spot and spilled into the grassy field around the lot. Some vehicles were ancient, rusted machines that barely looked driveable while others were so fresh and high-tech they could have just been driven off a lot. Those were the vehicles you were looking for.
Stepping off the bus, you headed towards the group of four shiny new vehicles on the other end of the parking lot. On the way, your head was on a constant swivel as you took in everything around you: a middle-aged couple arguing loudly about who forgot to tie down the lawn chairs the last time they stopped, a somewhat familiar-looking man in a cowboy hat unloading a piece of equipment from his huge red truck while another long-haired man filmed him, a woman with dreadlocks fiddling with a remote control only for a large drone to drop out of the sky a moment later and land at her feet, a few children racing towards the diner with their exasperated mother trailing behind yelling at them to watch where they were going. 
It was utter chaos and you loved it already. 
As you approached the vehicles, you saw the Storm PAR logos printed on the sides and breathed a sigh of relief that after this sixth bus stop, you had finally tracked them down. You still didn’t see who you were looking for, so you walked up to a man with dark curly hair wearing a white button-down Storm PAR shirt who was currently crouched down examining a weird solar panel-looking piece of equipment set up next to one of the vans. As you cleared your throat, he looked up from the machine and blinked, as if he was shocked to see someone standing there despite the crowds of people around him. Glancing around, he asked, “Um…can I help you?”
You guess you shouldn’t be too surprised by his reaction. In your cut-off shorts, boots, and halter top, you looked like you should be hanging out one of the trucks you passed when you first got off the bus, not the polished, company polo shirt-wearing tech heads milling around the Storm PAR vehicles. And you didn’t even want to know what your hair and makeup looked like after four hours on that poorly air-conditioned packed bus. 
So, instead of taking offense at this guy’s slightly dismissive tone, you smiled as you adjusted the backpack on your shoulder. “Hi. I’m looking for Scott.”
The man glanced over his shoulder but made no move to stand up. “He’s here but he’s in the middle of some data calculations. Can I help you with something?”
“Not really. I had time off college and he mentioned you guys were having a really active season so I figured why not come out and see all this in action.” The man was still looking at you like he couldn’t understand why you were talking to him and you suddenly realized you hadn’t explained the most important detail. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I guess I should have mentioned, Scotty’s my older brother.”
Instantly, the man’s demeanor shifted and a huge toothy smile spread across his face. “Oh! You should have led with that. Nice to meet you.”
Rising to his feet, he stuck out his hand and you shook it, officially introducing yourself. When he said his name was Javi Rivera and it was your turn for things to click into place. “Javi! You’re Scotty’s business partner, right? He’s told me about you.”
Javi let your hand drop and his eyes shifted towards his equipment once more. “Really? Well, um, you know, I’ve, uh, heard great things about you too.”
You grinned, grabbing onto the straps of your backpack. “Scotty never even mentioned he had a sister, did he?” Javi gave a slight shrug, still not looking directly at you and you laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like him. Never wants to get personal, everything’s about business with him. To be honest, I don’t see or hear from him that much which is just another reason I figured I’d come surprise him when I had the chance. Plus, I read some research Scotty left lying around last time he came home and it was really interesting. I’m excited to be able to see what you guys do firsthand.” 
“Well, I’m sure Scotty will be glad to see you. Let me go grab him.”
Javi turned and disappeared into one of the vans. A moment later, he returned with your brother following closely behind. “Javi, I was in the middle of some important calculations. Why did I have to–” Scott stumbled to a stop as he saw you standing there.
Since he was a teenager, Scott had mastered the art of keeping his emotions hidden. He could be fuming mad, joyously happy, or heartbrokenly sad, and in each case keep the same perfect mask on his face. However, you knew his one tell. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep the emotion out of his eyes. And right now, you could practically see flames burning within them. 
For the first time, you wondered if coming to see him had been such a good idea. Shifting from one foot to the other, you tried to force a smile as you half-heartedly held out your arms. “Surprise.”
Scott remained rooted to the spot, his only movement the constant forceful chewing of his gum. Javi glanced back and forth between the two of you, the smile slowly draining from his face. Hesitantly, he explained, “She said she was your sister so I figured…”
A cultivated smile spread across Scott’s lips but it didn’t reach his eyes as they continued to burn into yours. “No, it’s all good. I’m just surprised to see her.” Without breaking eye contact, he held his tablet out to Javi who took it from him. “Give me a few minutes to talk to her and then I’ll get back to those numbers.”
Javi started to protest, assuring him there was no rush and he could take his time, but Scott had already closed the distance between you. Grabbing your arm tightly to the point of slight painfulness, he guided you past the rest of the Storm PAR vehicles and into the empty field. 
Once you were far enough away that you knew none of his co-workers could hear you, you wrenched your arm from his grasp, snapping, “Get off of me!”
“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled, his mask finally slipping as his nostrils flared and lips curled into a snarl.
“Well, hello to you too!” You examined your arm where he had grabbed you, massaging it gently. “Can’t a girl come visit her big brother?”
“Not when she wasn’t invited or even asked if she could come beforehand! What were you thinking? This isn’t one of your wild party vacations. This is my job!”
“I know that. I wasn’t expecting you to drop everything and take me sightseeing. I just thought I could hang around and watch you guys in action. I’ve read some of the research you left at Christmas and I was hoping maybe I could learn a little more about it.”
Scott shook his head, his hands on his hips. “This is our busiest time of the season. I don’t have time to babysit you.”
“What do you think I am? Eight? I don’t need you to babysit me. I told you, I’m interested in what you do and thought I could just hang around and see how it all works.” You shrugged, “Maybe you could even take me on a chase or two.”
“Hell no. I won’t have you getting scared and causing us to have to turn around in the middle of a storm run. Javi and I have worked too hard to get this company to where it is and I’m not going to let you ruin that because, on a whim, you thought it would be fun to see a storm.” Scott scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “It’s so typical of you to still think that just because you want something or because Mom and Dad will pay for it, everyone else will bend over backward to accommodate you. Well, I don’t have to put up with your bullshit anymore.”
You took several deep breaths and tried to keep your anger in check. This was not at all how you thought this would go, but lashing out right now would only make things worse. So, in a calm, steady voice, you tried to shift approaches. “Scotty, we haven’t spent any real time together since you left for MIT. And back then…I’m not proud of the person I was and I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you. But I was a kid who didn’t know any better! I’ve grown up since you left. And this trip isn’t just something I thought would be fun to do ‘on a whim’. I worked hard to save up the money to come here because I wanted to see you and spend time with you—however little time you may be able to work into your schedule. And I promise I won’t get scared or make you stop your chase. If I don’t like it, I’ll suck it up until it’s over then not ask to go again.” Taking a step forward, you gently placed your hand on his arm and gave him a timid smile. “Let me show you who I am now…how much I’ve changed. Please, Scotty.”
But Scott yanked his arm away and took a step back. “I don’t care where you go, but you need to stay away from me and Storm PAR. Now, I have work to do.” He took one last look at you, and, for just a moment, you thought maybe he felt bad for what he said and was reconsidering things. But then, he blew a small bubble with his gum and popped it loudly in your face. You jumped slightly, the sound sharp and startling, before glaring at him. He had been doing that since you were kids and he knew how much you absolutely despised it. Shooting you one last smug smirk, Scott turned and walked off towards the cluster of Storm PAR vehicles. 
You turned to look out into the open field, lip quivering, as you fought against the tears that were burning your eyes. Things between you and Scott had been pretty bad when he left for college, but you hadn’t realized he still really thought so poorly of you. The last few holidays or family events he had been forced to come to, things seemed to be getting a little better. You thought that maybe you had reached a turning point in your relationship. But now it was clear you had been very wrong.
Looking back at the diner and overflow of vehicles, you wondered what you should do now. You had no idea when the next bus came by or how to get a ticket home or if there was a motel nearby you could stay in for the night or how you would even get there if there was or what you would do in the morning or—
UGH! The longer you stared at the Storm PAR logo on the side of the van Scott had disappeared into, the less hurt you felt. Instead, the pain began to shift into outrage. How dare Scott treat you like this? You had spent a lot of money and wasted two weeks of your summer vacation to take this trip to see him. You knew it would involve listening to him drone on about numbers and graphs you could barely comprehend for most of the time, but you were willing to smile, nod, and seem interested to show you cared about what he did. But no! He didn’t even give you a chance to explain yourself or prove that you weren’t here to interfere with his work. He had just torn you down before turning his back on you and walking away. That asshole!
The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky and you realized standing here fuming about Scott wasn’t going to help your situation. You could do that once you found a bus schedule or a place to stay for the night. However, as you stormed back through the parking lot, something caught your eye. 
When you had come through the first time and passed the familiar-looking man and the long-haired guy with the camera, you had only seen their truck from behind. But now that you were looking at the front, you noticed the distinctive metal logo attached to the front of the truck’s grille: a tornado with horns jutting out the top of the vortex. And you realized why the man in the cowboy hat looked familiar. 
Scott might not talk to you very often, but during the instances that he had, you had heard plenty of complaints about Tyler Owens and his group of Tornado Wranglers. Everything they did was the complete opposite of how Storm PAR operated and it drove Scott crazy that while he was out there doing the “real work”, this group of amateur YouTube chasers were the ones getting all the attention and acclaim when all they were really doing was getting in Storm PAR’s way. 
And Scott seemed to have another level of hatred for Owens himself.    
Out of curiosity, you had looked up the Wranglers’ YouTube channel and found it pretty entertaining. While Scott viewed every aspect of his work with complete seriousness and professionalism, these guys tackled the same work like they were having the time of their lives. They were still informative, explaining to their viewers how tornadoes formed and the types of destruction they can cause, but they would then drive straight into the center of a funnel or take chat requests of crazy things to do in the storm. It honestly seemed like a great way to get people excited about learning about tornadoes while also keeping them entertained. And it seemed like their nearly 850,000 followers would agree. No wonder Scott hated them so much. 
Suddenly, you had an idea—the perfect little act of revenge.
Changing directions, you made your way over to Owens’s truck. You could see he was now alone, tinkering with the equipment attached to the bed of his truck. He had traded his white cowboy hat for a faded backward cap and had pushed his sleeves up above his elbows as he worked, his sun-bronzed skin on full display in the dying light.
Though you had only watched a handful of the Tornado Wranglers’ videos, you had a pretty good idea of the kind of man Tyler Owens was and how you could persuade him to help you. After all, these narcissistic, jacked-up truck-driving, overcompensating pretty boys were all the same. The kind who had been fawned and swooned over their entire adult lives just because they flashed a charming smile or a playful wink in the right direction. However, with just a little stroking of their ego or a bat of your eyes, they could become putty in your hands. All you had to do was introduce yourself.
Reaching the side of the truck, you tucked your hands into your back pockets so it thrust your chest forward and, biting your lip, called out coyly, “Hey there, cowboy.”
Owens glanced up, a curious smile curling across his lips as he saw you, his eyes traveling from your head to boot and back up. “Well, hello there.”
Giggling softly as you placed your hand on the side railing, you asked in a sing-songy voice, “You’re Tyler, right? The big...bad…tornado wrangler?” With each word, you walked your fingers across the railing, your eyes locked on his.
He leaned back, wiped his hands on his jeans, and said, “I might be. Depends on who’s asking.” He was still looking at you but his smile had slipped slightly and you realized you might not have grabbed his attention as well as you thought.
Placing both hands on the railing now, you pushed yourself up slightly, your chest pressed together, and you looked up at him from under your lashes. “What if I’m asking?”
Owens stared at you for a long moment, his eyes still examining you thoughtfully, though you were shocked to see they stayed locked on your face and didn’t dip down to your breast like you had expected. Then, finally, he said, “You seem like a nice girl, sweetheart, but I don't think I'm what you're looking for. Good luck though.” He gave you a kind, yet dismissive nod, and went back to whatever he had been working on.
Your jaw dropped, lips moving silently as you tried to figure out what just happened. This kind of thing always worked on guys like him in the past. Show a little skin, stroke their egos a little, and they would be wrapped around your finger in no time. But he hadn’t even given your act more than a passing glance. It was possible you weren’t his type or maybe he was in a committed relationship, but neither of those things had exactly deterred guys in the past. 
You turned around—properly dismissed—and were just about to walk away when another thought crossed your mind. What if…what if you had misjudged him? What if he wasn’t the kind of guy you assumed he was? From what you had seen in his videos, he was cocky and overconfident and a huge flirt, but what if that was all for the cameras? During your very brief interaction, he seemed polite and respectful even as you tried to throw yourself at him, something no other guy had ever done in that situation. 
Maybe you had gone about this all wrong. Maybe you needed a different approach. A more honest one…
You hurried around the other side of the truck so you were in front of him once more. Dropping all the over-the-top flirtatiousness from your voice, you said, “Okay, I’m sorry. I thought…it doesn’t matter what I thought, but the point is I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve had a really shitty day and approached this situation all wrong.”
Owens didn’t raise his head, but his eyes drifted back in your direction. Feeling like he was offering you a chance, you explained, “Listen, the deal is I came here to surprise my brother with a visit, and as soon as he saw me, he told me he doesn’t want me here and I should fuck off out of his way.”
That got his attention. Looking up, his brow furrowed, Owens asked, “Your brother said that to you?”
You rolled your eyes and hit the heel of your palm against the side of the truck. “Well, not in those exact words but the sentiment was there. The point is, he told me he didn’t care where I went as long as I left him and his team alone. So, I plan on respecting his wishes…and wondered if I could hang out with your team instead.”
“Well–” He leaned back, clearly not interested in your request, but you cut him off before he could turn you down.
“Please! It’ll just be for a day or two. I promise not to get in the way or mess with any of your work. I just know he has a problem with you guys and seeing me with you will drive him insane.” 
Putting down the wrench he was holding, Owens shook his head. “Back up…who are we talking about now? Who’s your brother?”
You realized you needed to get better at introducing people into a conversation before jumping right in. “Scott? He works for Storm PAR?” He hesitated so you sighed and turned towards the other group of storm chasers at the other end of the lot. With one hand on your hip, you pointed lazily with the other, “The surly tall one who never takes off his stupid baseball cap?”
Instantly, Owens straightened up and you knew you had piqued his interest. Chuckling, he asked, “Wait, so you’re telling me Mr. Clipboard and Chewing Gum is your brother?” You nodded. “And you want my help messing with him?”
“Yeah, that about sums it up. So, will you do it?”
The cowboy leaned over the side of the truck and gave you a wide grin. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve come to the right place.”
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Part 2 coming 8/19!
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Sweeter Than Revenge Part 1
Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: When you try to surprise your brother with a visit in the hopes of mending your strained relationship, it does not go as planned. Rudely dismissed by Scott, you decide to get a little revenge. And who better to do it with than the head Tornado Wrangler himself... Word Count: 3509 TW: Family Conflict, Brief Mention of Reader's Clothes/Breasts, Unsucessful Flirting, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages
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Grabbing your backpack off the seat beside you, you stood and joined the crowd of passengers making their way to the front of the bus. You stopped to let an elderly couple join the line in front of you and used the momentary pause to glance out the window at your destination. A small diner in need of a fresh coat of paint and a good window washing sat off to the left while several rows of gas pumps were lined up on the right. Trucks, vans, campers, and SUVs filled almost every parking spot and spilled into the grassy field around the lot. Some vehicles were ancient, rusted machines that barely looked driveable while others were so fresh and high-tech they could have just been driven off a lot. Those were the vehicles you were looking for.
Stepping off the bus, you headed towards the group of four shiny new vehicles on the other end of the parking lot. On the way, your head was on a constant swivel as you took in everything around you: a middle-aged couple arguing loudly about who forgot to tie down the lawn chairs the last time they stopped, a somewhat familiar-looking man in a cowboy hat unloading a piece of equipment from his huge red truck while another long-haired man filmed him, a woman with dreadlocks fiddling with a remote control only for a large drone to drop out of the sky a moment later and land at her feet, a few children racing towards the diner with their exasperated mother trailing behind yelling at them to watch where they were going. 
It was utter chaos and you loved it already. 
As you approached the vehicles, you saw the Storm PAR logos printed on the sides and breathed a sigh of relief that after this sixth bus stop, you had finally tracked them down. You still didn’t see who you were looking for, so you walked up to a man with dark curly hair wearing a white button-down Storm PAR shirt who was currently crouched down examining a weird solar panel-looking piece of equipment set up next to one of the vans. As you cleared your throat, he looked up from the machine and blinked, as if he was shocked to see someone standing there despite the crowds of people around him. Glancing around, he asked, “Um…can I help you?”
You guess you shouldn’t be too surprised by his reaction. In your cut-off shorts, boots, and halter top, you looked like you should be hanging out one of the trucks you passed when you first got off the bus, not the polished, company polo shirt-wearing tech heads milling around the Storm PAR vehicles. And you didn’t even want to know what your hair and makeup looked like after four hours on that poorly air-conditioned packed bus. 
So, instead of taking offense at this guy’s slightly dismissive tone, you smiled as you adjusted the backpack on your shoulder. “Hi. I’m looking for Scott.”
The man glanced over his shoulder but made no move to stand up. “He’s here but he’s in the middle of some data calculations. Can I help you with something?”
“Not really. I had time off college and he mentioned you guys were having a really active season so I figured why not come out and see all this in action.” The man was still looking at you like he couldn’t understand why you were talking to him and you suddenly realized you hadn’t explained the most important detail. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I guess I should have mentioned, Scotty’s my older brother.”
Instantly, the man’s demeanor shifted and a huge toothy smile spread across his face. “Oh! You should have led with that. Nice to meet you.”
Rising to his feet, he stuck out his hand and you shook it, officially introducing yourself. When he said his name was Javi Rivera and it was your turn for things to click into place. “Javi! You’re Scotty’s business partner, right? He’s told me about you.”
Javi let your hand drop and his eyes shifted towards his equipment once more. “Really? Well, um, you know, I’ve, uh, heard great things about you too.”
You grinned, grabbing onto the straps of your backpack. “Scotty never even mentioned he had a sister, did he?” Javi gave a slight shrug, still not looking directly at you and you laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like him. Never wants to get personal, everything’s about business with him. To be honest, I don’t see or hear from him that much which is just another reason I figured I’d come surprise him when I had the chance. Plus, I read some research Scotty left lying around last time he came home and it was really interesting. I’m excited to be able to see what you guys do firsthand.” 
“Well, I’m sure Scotty will be glad to see you. Let me go grab him.”
Javi turned and disappeared into one of the vans. A moment later, he returned with your brother following closely behind. “Javi, I was in the middle of some important calculations. Why did I have to–” Scott stumbled to a stop as he saw you standing there.
Since he was a teenager, Scott had mastered the art of keeping his emotions hidden. He could be fuming mad, joyously happy, or heartbrokenly sad, and in each case keep the same perfect mask on his face. However, you knew his one tell. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep the emotion out of his eyes. And right now, you could practically see flames burning within them. 
For the first time, you wondered if coming to see him had been such a good idea. Shifting from one foot to the other, you tried to force a smile as you half-heartedly held out your arms. “Surprise.”
Scott remained rooted to the spot, his only movement the constant forceful chewing of his gum. Javi glanced back and forth between the two of you, the smile slowly draining from his face. Hesitantly, he explained, “She said she was your sister so I figured…”
A cultivated smile spread across Scott’s lips but it didn’t reach his eyes as they continued to burn into yours. “No, it’s all good. I’m just surprised to see her.” Without breaking eye contact, he held his tablet out to Javi who took it from him. “Give me a few minutes to talk to her and then I’ll get back to those numbers.”
Javi started to protest, assuring him there was no rush and he could take his time, but Scott had already closed the distance between you. Grabbing your arm tightly to the point of slight painfulness, he guided you past the rest of the Storm PAR vehicles and into the empty field. 
Once you were far enough away that you knew none of his co-workers could hear you, you wrenched your arm from his grasp, snapping, “Get off of me!”
“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled, his mask finally slipping as his nostrils flared and lips curled into a snarl.
“Well, hello to you too!” You examined your arm where he had grabbed you, massaging it gently. “Can’t a girl come visit her big brother?”
“Not when she wasn’t invited or even asked if she could come beforehand! What were you thinking? This isn’t one of your wild party vacations. This is my job!”
“I know that. I wasn’t expecting you to drop everything and take me sightseeing. I just thought I could hang around and watch you guys in action. I’ve read some of the research you left at Christmas and I was hoping maybe I could learn a little more about it.”
Scott shook his head, his hands on his hips. “This is our busiest time of the season. I don’t have time to babysit you.”
“What do you think I am? Eight? I don’t need you to babysit me. I told you, I’m interested in what you do and thought I could just hang around and see how it all works.” You shrugged, “Maybe you could even take me on a chase or two.”
“Hell no. I won’t have you getting scared and causing us to have to turn around in the middle of a storm run. Javi and I have worked too hard to get this company to where it is and I’m not going to let you ruin that because, on a whim, you thought it would be fun to see a storm.” Scott scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “It’s so typical of you to still think that just because you want something or because Mom and Dad will pay for it, everyone else will bend over backward to accommodate you. Well, I don’t have to put up with your bullshit anymore.”
You took several deep breaths and tried to keep your anger in check. This was not at all how you thought this would go, but lashing out right now would only make things worse. So, in a calm, steady voice, you tried to shift approaches. “Scotty, we haven’t spent any real time together since you left for MIT. And back then…I’m not proud of the person I was and I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you. But I was a kid who didn’t know any better! I’ve grown up since you left. And this trip isn’t just something I thought would be fun to do ‘on a whim’. I worked hard to save up the money to come here because I wanted to see you and spend time with you—however little time you may be able to work into your schedule. And I promise I won’t get scared or make you stop your chase. If I don’t like it, I’ll suck it up until it’s over then not ask to go again.” Taking a step forward, you gently placed your hand on his arm and gave him a timid smile. “Let me show you who I am now…how much I’ve changed. Please, Scotty.”
But Scott yanked his arm away and took a step back. “I don’t care where you go, but you need to stay away from me and Storm PAR. Now, I have work to do.” He took one last look at you, and, for just a moment, you thought maybe he felt bad for what he said and was reconsidering things. But then, he blew a small bubble with his gum and popped it loudly in your face. You jumped slightly, the sound sharp and startling, before glaring at him. He had been doing that since you were kids and he knew how much you absolutely despised it. Shooting you one last smug smirk, Scott turned and walked off towards the cluster of Storm PAR vehicles. 
You turned to look out into the open field, lip quivering, as you fought against the tears that were burning your eyes. Things between you and Scott had been pretty bad when he left for college, but you hadn’t realized he still really thought so poorly of you. The last few holidays or family events he had been forced to come to, things seemed to be getting a little better. You thought that maybe you had reached a turning point in your relationship. But now it was clear you had been very wrong.
Looking back at the diner and overflow of vehicles, you wondered what you should do now. You had no idea when the next bus came by or how to get a ticket home or if there was a motel nearby you could stay in for the night or how you would even get there if there was or what you would do in the morning or—
UGH! The longer you stared at the Storm PAR logo on the side of the van Scott had disappeared into, the less hurt you felt. Instead, the pain began to shift into outrage. How dare Scott treat you like this? You had spent a lot of money and wasted two weeks of your summer vacation to take this trip to see him. You knew it would involve listening to him drone on about numbers and graphs you could barely comprehend for most of the time, but you were willing to smile, nod, and seem interested to show you cared about what he did. But no! He didn’t even give you a chance to explain yourself or prove that you weren’t here to interfere with his work. He had just torn you down before turning his back on you and walking away. That asshole!
The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky and you realized standing here fuming about Scott wasn’t going to help your situation. You could do that once you found a bus schedule or a place to stay for the night. However, as you stormed back through the parking lot, something caught your eye. 
When you had come through the first time and passed the familiar-looking man and the long-haired guy with the camera, you had only seen their truck from behind. But now that you were looking at the front, you noticed the distinctive metal logo attached to the front of the truck’s grille: a tornado with horns jutting out the top of the vortex. And you realized why the man in the cowboy hat looked familiar. 
Scott might not talk to you very often, but during the instances that he had, you had heard plenty of complaints about Tyler Owens and his group of Tornado Wranglers. Everything they did was the complete opposite of how Storm PAR operated and it drove Scott crazy that while he was out there doing the ��real work”, this group of amateur YouTube chasers were the ones getting all the attention and acclaim when all they were really doing was getting in Storm PAR’s way. 
And Scott seemed to have another level of hatred for Owens himself.    
Out of curiosity, you had looked up the Wranglers’ YouTube channel and found it pretty entertaining. While Scott viewed every aspect of his work with complete seriousness and professionalism, these guys tackled the same work like they were having the time of their lives. They were still informative, explaining to their viewers how tornadoes formed and the types of destruction they can cause, but they would then drive straight into the center of a funnel or take chat requests of crazy things to do in the storm. It honestly seemed like a great way to get people excited about learning about tornadoes while also keeping them entertained. And it seemed like their nearly 850,000 followers would agree. No wonder Scott hated them so much. 
Suddenly, you had an idea—the perfect little act of revenge.
Changing directions, you made your way over to Owens’s truck. You could see he was now alone, tinkering with the equipment attached to the bed of his truck. He had traded his white cowboy hat for a faded backward cap and had pushed his sleeves up above his elbows as he worked, his sun-bronzed skin on full display in the dying light.
Though you had only watched a handful of the Tornado Wranglers’ videos, you had a pretty good idea of the kind of man Tyler Owens was and how you could persuade him to help you. After all, these narcissistic, jacked-up truck-driving, overcompensating pretty boys were all the same. The kind who had been fawned and swooned over their entire adult lives just because they flashed a charming smile or a playful wink in the right direction. However, with just a little stroking of their ego or a bat of your eyes, they could become putty in your hands. All you had to do was introduce yourself.
Reaching the side of the truck, you tucked your hands into your back pockets so it thrust your chest forward and, biting your lip, called out coyly, “Hey there, cowboy.”
Owens glanced up, a curious smile curling across his lips as he saw you, his eyes traveling from your head to boot and back up. “Well, hello there.”
Giggling softly as you placed your hand on the side railing, you asked in a sing-songy voice, “You’re Tyler, right? The big...bad…tornado wrangler?” With each word, you walked your fingers across the railing, your eyes locked on his.
He leaned back, wiped his hands on his jeans, and said, “I might be. Depends on who’s asking.” He was still looking at you but his smile had slipped slightly and you realized you might not have grabbed his attention as well as you thought.
Placing both hands on the railing now, you pushed yourself up slightly, your chest pressed together, and you looked up at him from under your lashes. “What if I’m asking?”
Owens stared at you for a long moment, his eyes still examining you thoughtfully, though you were shocked to see they stayed locked on your face and didn’t dip down to your breast like you had expected. Then, finally, he said, “You seem like a nice girl, sweetheart, but I don't think I'm what you're looking for. Good luck though.” He gave you a kind, yet dismissive nod, and went back to whatever he had been working on.
Your jaw dropped, lips moving silently as you tried to figure out what just happened. This kind of thing always worked on guys like him in the past. Show a little skin, stroke their egos a little, and they would be wrapped around your finger in no time. But he hadn’t even given your act more than a passing glance. It was possible you weren’t his type or maybe he was in a committed relationship, but neither of those things had exactly deterred guys in the past. 
You turned around—properly dismissed—and were just about to walk away when another thought crossed your mind. What if…what if you had misjudged him? What if he wasn’t the kind of guy you assumed he was? From what you had seen in his videos, he was cocky and overconfident and a huge flirt, but what if that was all for the cameras? During your very brief interaction, he seemed polite and respectful even as you tried to throw yourself at him, something no other guy had ever done in that situation. 
Maybe you had gone about this all wrong. Maybe you needed a different approach. A more honest one…
You hurried around the other side of the truck so you were in front of him once more. Dropping all the over-the-top flirtatiousness from your voice, you said, “Okay, I’m sorry. I thought…it doesn’t matter what I thought, but the point is I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve had a really shitty day and approached this situation all wrong.”
Owens didn’t raise his head, but his eyes drifted back in your direction. Feeling like he was offering you a chance, you explained, “Listen, the deal is I came here to surprise my brother with a visit, and as soon as he saw me, he told me he doesn’t want me here and I should fuck off out of his way.”
That got his attention. Looking up, his brow furrowed, Owens asked, “Your brother said that to you?”
You rolled your eyes and hit the heel of your palm against the side of the truck. “Well, not in those exact words but the sentiment was there. The point is, he told me he didn’t care where I went as long as I left him and his team alone. So, I plan on respecting his wishes…and wondered if I could hang out with your team instead.”
“Well–” He leaned back, clearly not interested in your request, but you cut him off before he could turn you down.
“Please! It’ll just be for a day or two. I promise not to get in the way or mess with any of your work. I just know he has a problem with you guys and seeing me with you will drive him insane.” 
Putting down the wrench he was holding, Owens shook his head. “Back up…who are we talking about now? Who’s your brother?”
You realized you needed to get better at introducing people into a conversation before jumping right in. “Scott? He works for Storm PAR?” He hesitated so you sighed and turned towards the other group of storm chasers at the other end of the lot. With one hand on your hip, you pointed lazily with the other, “The surly tall one who never takes off his stupid baseball cap?”
Instantly, Owens straightened up and you knew you had piqued his interest. Chuckling, he asked, “Wait, so you’re telling me Mr. Clipboard and Chewing Gum is your brother?” You nodded. “And you want my help messing with him?”
“Yeah, that about sums it up. So, will you do it?”
The cowboy leaned over the side of the truck and gave you a wide grin. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve come to the right place.”
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Part 2 coming 8/19!
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writercole · 1 month
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Home Sweet Home
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Summary: It's been a long few weeks but Scott is finally home and he's got an idea in his head. Words: 909 Warnings: 18+ only. NSFW. Dead Dove, Do Not Eat!! Vaginal penetration, begging, marking, dom/sub behaviors, Scott is kind of an ass (as we expect, but in a good way.) Credits: I have to credit @hederasgarden and @ryebecca for pushing me forward with this. And a very special thanks to @theharddeck and @wildbornsiren who've looked over parts 1 and 2 for me! A/N: I have multiple loves from Twisters. As it should be.
Part 1 of 3
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When you met Scott, you thought he was an arrogant, self-absorbed man who thought he was the smartest man in the room. In other words, he lived up to the engineer title he carried.
Over time, you started to see cracks in his armor, little things like a genuine smile or your favorite treat appearing in your seat or your bag.
The first time he asked you to dinner, you didn’t even think it was a date. Scott didn’t go on dates. He definitely didn’t like you that way. That’s why you were so surprised when, after walking you back to your room, he gathered you into his arms and kissed you deeply.
That was a few years ago now. He proposed on your two year anniversary and you married shortly after. Since then, there had been subtle shifts in his demeanor. He started to enjoy leaving little marks on your exposed neck or deep between your thighs. He always wore a smirk when other men let their gazes linger before turning away dejectedly. 
When you suggested quitting your job to stay home, you swore you’d given him the best news of his life. That’s how you ended up here, wearing one of his shirts as a dress and his favorite pair of heels, cooking steaks for dinner. Scott was on his way home after chasing storms for over a month.
“Honey, I’m home,” he called as the door opened. A thud followed the door slamming shut before heavy footfalls echoed on the hardwood floors. “Something smells good.”
“You’re home!” you exclaimed as you abandoned the stove to meet your husband at the kitchen door.
“Fuck, baby, I missed you,” he growled, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you deeply.
His grip kept you pressed against the hard planes of his body, letting you feel the effect you had on him as his hands wandered down your back, over the curve of your ass, and under his shirt.
“Scott, I need to -”
“The only thing you need to do is wrap yourself around my cock,” he muttered against your skin. He backed you up against the kitchen island and lifted you up, seating you on the marble countertop.
You whimpered as he forced your legs apart and dropped to his knees. A loud groan exited his lips and his eyes rolled back as soon as he saw your bare pussy beneath his shirt. Calloused hands squeezed your thighs as teeth sank into your flesh, your head falling backwards and your back arching.
“Scott, please,” you whined.
“Please what? Use your words.”
“Please fuck me.”
“But what about dinner?” he teased as he stood. “Maybe we should wait until we’ve eaten.”
“No, please,” you rushed out, “I need you. It’s been too long, Scott, please, I need your cock.” Needy had never been a word you would have used to describe yourself but the empty ache between your legs changed a lot of things.
“I guess that’s good enough,” he smirked, unzipping his slacks and pulling his thick cock out. The red, leaking tip pressed inside of your dripping channel, stretching your walls slowly, then all at once as he thrust himself to the hilt with a grunt. 
Your hands clawed at his shoulders, searching for something to ground you as he pulled out quickly and pushed back in slowly, setting a pace that let both of you enjoy the intimacy that had been missing for weeks.
Your release built quickly, your walls clenching around Scott’s cock.
“You’re going to come for me,” he stated, more of a command than an observation.
His order pushed you to your release and you cried out his name between moaning gasps.
“Good girl,” he cooed as he picked up his pace. “Now, be still and let me fill this pussy up. Fuck my cum so deep there will be no way I don’t knock you up.”
Scott chased his own end, repeating over again how he was going to fill you up, get you pregnant. His conviction drew another release from you as his cock throbbed, spilling his seed. He continued to fuck into you until he twitched with overstimulation, staying true to his promise. Thick arms pulled you close and his head rested heavily on your shoulder while both of you came down from your highs, chests rising and falling rapidly above racing hearts.
Loud, rapid beeping interrupted your embrace and Scott swore, pulling out and rushing over to the stove, one hand tucking himself into his pants while the other grabbed the smoking pan and tossed it into the sink. More swears filled the air as he shook out the bare hand that grabbed the scalding, bare iron handle.
You moved to grab a towel to fan the smoke detector but stopped when Scott pointed at you.
“Don’t you dare move,” he said sternly. “I was serious about knocking you up. Can’t do that if you let me leak out of that sweet pussy.”
You settled back on the island and watched as he reached up to press the button on the detector. His shirt rose just enough for a sliver of skin to appear above his waistline, a tiny glimpse of your favorite trail of hair below his navel driving you wild and having you press your thighs together again.
Quiet settled over the room again and Scott chuckled with his hands on his hips. “Feel up to going out?”
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Currently watching Twisters with headphones and subtitles (as it should be experienced). If you had a hard time hearing some of the quieter dialogue like me, here is a list of little details I didn't notice the first time:
Scott's driver tells to Boone to blow him when the Tornado Wranglers arrive at the first gas station.
Ben telling Tyler to keep his eyes on the road when he is staring at Kate as she and Javi pass them.
As Boone is hanging out the window loading rockets, he sings 'Dead End Road' by Jellyroll and then when the camera pans out he yells "SING IT BEN!" (Honestly this rewatch caught a lot of background dialogue for him, made me love Boone even more).
The cause of the broken trigger during the second tornado is melted chocolate and Tyler is lecturing Boone about eating chocolate in the truck.
In the background after the Stillwater tornado you can see the StormPAR guys digging the truck out of the wreck of the motel. (Still find it hilarious that it survived, considering we see a - slightly smaller - truck get sucked straight into the tornado in the same area).
Scott 100% calls Riggs his uncle. I already was pretty sure that was what he said, but subtitles confirmed it.
You can barely hear the dialogue, but the entire time during the EF5 that hits El Reno Scott is the one talking in the truck with Javi. It's all super quiet because of the music and sound of the tornado, but throughout the entire thing it is Scott who is showing fear and Javi is the calmer one (while still being realistic for the scene). I think it just adds an interesting take on how calm he is later and wanting to go back to the tornado. Maybe a bit of a pride thing?
Not so much something that I *just* noticed, but I find the inconsistency with Tyler's truck damage at the end hilarious. The thing just got rolled by an EF5 and a few days later (StormPAR truck is still covered in mud, so it can't be a big time gap) it seems fine at the airport. I can totally see him being the type of guy who would absolutely run it to the mechanic as soon as possible, that is HIS BABY.
This has been Live Watching with Claire.
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elegantlyeva · 8 days
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I loved your last Scott fic and was wondering if you could do something with just him and fluffiness for his girl? (Or as fluffy as he can get)
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Burned Breakfast
a/n: Thank you for the request babe! i assumed you met established relationship fluff but if you meant for the pining stages lmk!!
Word Count: 0.6K
The sunlight from the early morning peeks through the blinds, the curtains wide open. One of you forgot to close the blinds, and considering you were the one woken up by the sun’s intrusion, you blame Scott.
Scott, the peaceful man soundly asleep next to you, small snores leaving his lips, despite how many times he’s rejected the idea that he snores.
Early mornings, ones right after a night in with you, were the only times he looked truly at peace. No complaints from any of his co-workers, no gum in his mouth to fidget with and no one but you to irritate him, though he enjoys you.
He had been extra nice yesterday, making dinner for the pair of you after he got home from a particularly good day with Storm Par. So, considering you were up, you thought to return the favor, slipping on your slippers and peeling Scott’s arm that lay heavily on your waist.
He moved a bit, his brows furrowing in agitation, even in sleep, when he doesn’t get his way. Eventually, he relaxes again, and you make your way out of his bedroom.
It wasn’t even half an hour before Scott started to stir, his hand reaching out to grab you, but met with your side of his bed, cold.
Scott sits up abruptly, opening his eyes in a frenzy. You never got up before him. Did you leave in the middle of the night? Had he done something wrong?
The man was contemplating his entire life when he heard a pan fall from the kitchen.
He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and got up to follow the noise quickly. He was met with his panicked-looking girlfriend running a hand under the sink.
Scott scowls at the sight, scurrying over to you to inspect the damage.
“What the fuck were you trying to do?” he asked incredulously, kissing your cheek in lieu of a good morning.
“Cooking you breakfast,” you frown, moving your hand to motion around the mess you made in the kitchen. “Pancakes and bacon!”
Scott shook his head, laughing slightly. “Oh really?” he asks, moving to wrap his arms around your waist from behind, pushing your burned hand back under the running water when you move it away. “And how’s that working out for you?”
You narrow your eyes playfully, “You can’t be mean. I’m injured,” you say rather dramatically.
Scott rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well, you did that to yourself.” But he moves to the fridge to collect the burn cream he kept there after a nasty incident he had a couple of months back.
He turns off the water for you and snatches your hand towards him so he can apply the cream. “Why were you trying to make me breakfast anyway? Not that I don’t appreciate it.” He raises a brow, and you smile sheepishly.
“I wanted to do something for you.”
“That’s sweet ‘n all, babe, but I promise I’m happy with waking up to you in my bed,” he says, blowing on your burned hand when you wince. “The cream won’t stop the pain, but it’s refreshing, and if you keep applying it, the burn won’t scar.”
“Thanks,” you say flatly, cheeks tinged pink at his words.
“Alright, no offense, but I'm not sure how much I trust this pancake batch,” he starts, staring judgmentally at the (burned) batch you made. You start to protest, but he cuts you off. “It’s fucking early. How about we go back to sleep for another hour, and when we wake up, I'll take you out to the diner?”
The argument dies on your tongue, and you nod, grabbing his hand. “Well, come on, then. I’ve been dying to get back to bed the second the opened curtains that someone forgot to close last night woke me up.”
The corners of his mouth twitch up as he pushes you back into the room, gently. “Thought you wanted to be nice?”
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