scott x hope oneshots

cocoa puffs

The kitchen is dark and quiet for once on a Saturday, probably because it's not even seven in the morning, so Scott Lang takes the opportunity to pour himself an enormous mixing bowl full of Cocoa Puffs, drown them in milk, and settle down at the table with a huge spoon. He has just raised the spoon to his mouth when the lights turn on and his daughter Cassie comes into the room and pounces at him and his cereal.

Like the tacos at Avengers headquarters, the moment for the Cocoa Puffs is a little bit ruined when the spoonful lands on the table.

"Ew, Dad! You're going to have to start wearing pants at the breakfast table!"

Scott looks down at the boxer shorts underneath his robe while Cassie steals the spoon from his hand and takes a big bite of the puffs. He can't figure out what the big deal is, he's got a robe on and everything.

"Yeah Dad, start wearing pants," Hope Van Dyne teases, looping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. He turns soppily toward her, sometimes he's just happy to look at her, but she's plucking dry puffs from his bowl to eat and not paying attention to his face.

"Sure Cassie, I'll definitely share my breakfast with you and Hope," he grumbles, while Cassie takes another giant spoonful from his bowl, and Hope continues to eat the dry puffs off the top, one by one.

"You love it," Cassie says, grinning.

"I do," he agrees. "Can I get that spoon back, though?"

He grabs for the spoon, Cassie squeals as he gets it back and takes a bite that's way, way too big for his mouth. He chews around the bite slowly, thoughtfully really, because he thinks choking is maybe pushing the joke too far.

Listening to Cassie and Hope groan and gripe about his bad table manners and half chewed cereal is probably the best form of criticism he's ever been subjected to in his life.

Scott doesn't mean to be sappy, but he's sort of sappy by nature, and there's been a lot of feelings. Seeing them here, together, is just a lot of dreams and wishes smashed into one moment. Sure, Cass is fifteen and not ten, but she's definitely his kid as she wrestles the spoon away from him again.

A few weeks ago, he was lost in time, literally. But now he's got both of them, in pajamas and ponytailed, teaming up to rag on him mercilessly.

This is a good morning, but they haven't all been good mornings since The Second Snappening, or whatever they're calling it in the news.

He's missed five more years of Cassie's life, something he'd promised himself would never happen once he was done with San Quentin. She's spent that time with Maggie, and though he and Maggie are still in a good place as coparents and friends, that means Cassie is much closer to her because Maggie has seen every second of the missed time.

Hope is here, in his kitchen, back because of a plan he helped to pull off, and that makes everything a whole lot easier. Hope, who doesn't remember being gone at all but recognizes that she was definitely gone, came over right before Tony Stark's funeral. She hasn't left, even though he's not as smart as she is, and a giant cheeseball, and talks to her even while he's in the bathroom.

Hope is here, in his kitchen, and if he isn't mistaken, and he's not, she isn't wearing a bra. But, it is definitely not the time for that mental stroll, so he puts that thought away for later.

Hope narrows her eyes anyway and swats at him, smiling. "Perv," she murmurs, half-joking, under her breath. He smiles back, and squeezes her knee under the table.

"We should go see a movie today," Cassie exclaims, grinning, thankfully oblivious to her father being a perv. "We should celebrate your legal freedom, and maybe get some tacos too."

After they all saved the world, it was fitting that nobody would be facing charges or be on federal probation anymore, so Scott was pardoned and Hope is definitely free of charges. Scott is happy to take her out in public, regular sized, beyond the confines of Maggie's backyard. Hell, he's pretty happy just to be there with her in the house.

Scott perks at tacos. "It sounds like a great day to me," he says, abruptly standing up and grabbing the bowl of cereal to a chorus of groans.

"I was eating that!"

Cassie's indignant gasp makes him laugh.

"Not now you're not. We're getting ready for tacos," Scott declares, dumping the bowl in the sink and sliding in his socks like it's Risky Business out of the room and up the stairs, to more groans.

"It's 7am!"

Hope's protest is ridiculous; she wakes up to run earlier than that several times a week.

Besides, Scott can't stress the importance enough, so he calls down the stairs emphatically.

"Breakfast tacos, Hope! Breakfast tacos!"