summary: post-amatw, scott is off house-arrest and trying to establish himself with x-con security consultants when he’s not fighting crime as ant-man. his neighbor-turned-babysitter makes things a lot easier. pairing: scott x babysitter!reader warning: tooth rotting fluff about lovesick scotty, vaguely related to this fic.
You pick up on the third ring.
“Scott?”
You sound groggy – clearly, you’d been fast-asleep, and as Scott steps out of the dingy rented office space of X-Con Security Consultants, a steady smile slips across his face. He toes the pavement, blinking down the street as he speaks.
“Hey,” he hushes, “Sorry to wake you up, sleeping beauty, but I just wanted to let you know I’m on my way home.”
“Is this a booty call?”
Scott barks out a laugh, wishing maybe it was. Maybe not when Cassie was over for the weekend.
He hears you shift, hears the soft groan of a stretch. It’s warm, and the moon hangs high in the summer sky. It’s a dead give away about how late it was. Miles away, in the San Francisco suburbs where Scott rents, you’re curled up on the couch of his living room.
“How’d the meeting go?” you ask, voice quiet, not to wake Cassie.
Scott laughs a little, hand in his pocket as he starts for the van. “Good. Signed the deal. Luis is pretty stoked – he’s taking the boys out for drinks.”
“You should go. Celebrate,” you mutter, fingers moving to card through the dark tufts of Cassie’s hair. She’s fast asleep beside you, clutching her ant beanie baby tightly, “I’ve got Cas, I’ll just crash here tonight.”
His chest is warm at the affection in your voice – he wonders if Cassie refused to go to bed again, if she had wanted to curl up beside you on the couch for movie night and snacks again. His daughter loves you, so much so that Scott found the pint-sized genius trying to worm into her dad’s head about how he felt about the next-door-neighbor-turned-babysitter.
Cassie is too smart for her own good.
And yeah, you both have the hots for one another.
On a purely working-based relationship.
… Not really. Cassie had nearly caught you two kissing on the couch twice now, after you’d both put her to bed and said your goodnight’s.
Things were… tentative. In the month and a half you’d started babysitting for Scott, you’d gradually become more comfortable with the ex-convict – he’s a good man. Charming, kind, smart… and so you went out with him to dinner. And then again. And then a third time. Pad Thai was his favorite and he paid every-time.
All off the Cassie-sitting clock.
And so you’d kept it from Cassie – mostly just for the sake of keeping things… normal. But, she had her suspicions. You’d stumbled over a lie when she asked you if you liked her dad one afternoon over ice-cream.
“Nah,” he mumbles, “And leave my two best girls?”
The phrase has started to become the new normal. You grin, face splitting into a warm and wide grin. Tugging the blanket around your knees, you chew your lip as Cassie stirs a bit. She nestles closer and you laugh. It’s quiet.
“I’ll see you soon, then,” you say, “Drive safe, Scott.”
“Always.”
He makes it home almost half an hour later, stumbling through the door as quietly as possible.
Both of you are fast asleep on the couch – Cassie is fast asleep in your lap, your fingers in her hair, and you’ve moved to lean on the pillows; he’s been caught by Luis and the boys in the position many times before, but to see the woman he’d been slowly growing feelings for in it?
It makes his heart sing.
Scott’s footfalls are quieted against the carpet, keys and bag left by the door. He stalks into the living room, fingers working into your hair first – he presses a lingering kiss on your brow, rousing you gently as he moves to scoop Cassie up. She doesn’t even protest, just slips into her Dad’s arms with a soft murmur of hello.
You shift, inhaling slowly and leaning into the touch of his hands – he’s already got Cassie in one arm as you rub sleep from your eyes, and he gives you a heavy look. A happy heavy look. He’s thankful, you can tell.
It makes your tummy swim with butterflies.
He puts Cassie to sleep, and you stir downstairs for the time being. You putter in the kitchen, making quick work on Cassie’s lunchbox for camp tomorrow and shuffling it into the fridge.
Scott’s presence in the doorway startles you. He’s leaning, looking at you with pink cheeks and warm eyes.
You smile, tired and slow. He’s a sight for sore eyes. You wonder what it’s like to wake up beside him in the morning – is he just as handsome? He’s distracting.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he says, kicking off from the door-frame, hands skimming your arms, “Just glad Cassie has you, y’know?”
“What, a babysitter?” you smirk, hands planted on the sturdy planes of Scott’s chest, “Me too, she’s too young to be driving herself to and from soccer practice.”
“Hey,” Scott starts, leaning to brush a kiss to your cheek, “I don’t even want to think about Cassie as a teen driver.”
“Teen monster truck driver.”
“Right,” he says, basking in your smile, “The speed limit is a suggestion.”
You laugh, settling into a comfortable silence – face drawn close in the light of the kitchenette’s under-cabinet lighting.
You speak candidly then, fingers fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt.
“I packed her lunch for tomorrow, so Maggie doesn’t have to worry and you can sleep in before work – and her bag is all set for camp. I packed some extra sunscreen because I know she hates the smell of the spray one.”
Scott groans. “God, do you know how sexy all that is?”
You peel into laughter, dropping your head back as Scott litters sloppy kisses along your jaw and neck – his stubble tickles and you shove your fingers into his hair as he steals a sturdy kiss from your lips, and then another. And another. Soon, you’re pressed between the kitchen island and Scott, locked in hazy romantic delirium driven on his kisses and the way his hands knead into your hips.
And then you hear it. A soft, score! and the thud of a beanie baby hitting the stairs.
Scott’s head whips around, eyes wide, and you smother a laugh as Cassie fist bumps and cheers sleepily. “I knew it!”
Cassie cackles, bounding back up the stairs at the speed of light with Scott on her heels. The grown man falters, slipping up the stairs as he laughs.
Toad's Cave 