He really loves to hold you tight and whisper sweet nothings to you after a long day at work or if you tell him you’re feeling lonely. He kisses your forehead as well, not much rubbing or anything like that; he just likes to nap holding onto you like a teddy bear. But if you ask for a certain thing he’ll do it for you since all he wants is for you to feel comfortable and loved. Likes to run his fingers through your hair as well.
He loves cuddling even if he doesn’t admit it. Most of the time its rather silent since usually he’s exhausted whenever he comes home; but he rubs your back softly and snuggles his face into your hair while you cuddle against his chest. Sometimes he’ll pet your hair as well. He likes being very close, so its a tight embrace; but not uncomfortable. He’ll talk about what he’s been feeling or his day if he’s not too tired during these exchanges. Its a sweet and soft thing, but he’s still grateful for it.
He likes to snuggle with you laying on top of his chest, He kisses the top of your head and holds you close; but theres still enough room to breathe and squirm since he doesn’t want to make you feel suffocated or anything. He’s a big talker so you listen to him go on about his day or things he’s been thinking about, to which he does the same to you. He’ll rub his thumb across your shoulder while you talk.
She likes to be close while snuggling, face to face most of the time so she can admire how beautiful you are. Theres loose chat most of the time but she doesn’t babble much. Loves tracing your features with her fingers, and is grateful when you do the same back to her. She also likes cuddling into your chest while you run your fingers through her hair after a long day at work.
He usually cant get through a cuddle session without biting you or doing something goofy, But when he does cuddle he likes to kiss the crevice of your neck while you two laugh about pointless things together, sometimes he’ll pretend to fall asleep on top of you and wont move until you get flustered with him. Snuggles into your side with his leg thrown over you to ‘trap’ you there. He holds you tight and blows raspberries on your cheeks and neck.
While he does like to cuddle, he doesn’t like making a big fuss of it. Its mainly a silent ordeal, he’ll come to you or your bed and push his chest against your back while holding your hand comfortingly. Sometimes he’ll run his fingers in patterns over your sides and hips if he’s not too tired. You love the show of love no matter how tiny it is. Later on in the relationship when he’s more comfortable, He likes to be the little spoon.
Loves cuddling. Anytime of day– he loves it. He likes to be face to face with you even if he cant see you very well. When you run your fingers down the back of his neck he gets goosebumps and loves it. He places his hand on your hip and rubs his thumb across it; may give you a small sweet kiss on the lips or nose during these ordeals. He’ll tell you how much he loves you or asks about your day while you both are like this. He hums to you as well and holds you close to his chest while petting your hair whenever its time to go to bed.
Emma shut the door behind her, momentarily leaning against
it. The day started so…well, innocently is definitely not the right word, but happy? She’d been so
happy, still was happy. But after what she’d seen Zelena give up, happiness
wasn’t at the top of her list of emotions. Mostly, she was just tired.
Forcing herself to move, she pushed off the door and
shrugged out of her coat, hanging it next to Killian’s. A small smile quirked
at the corner of her lips; somehow just thinking about him could improve her
mood. Speaking of her fiancé (and holy shit, how incredible was that to think about? She, Emma Swan, was
getting married!), where was he?
He wasn’t in the kitchen. He wasn’t waiting for her on the
couch. The lights going back toward the shed were all off. Maybe he was
upstairs? Emma only paused long enough to unzip her boots, kicking them over by
the door. No doubt her fastidious pirate would pick up after her later. She
didn’t think of herself as an untidy person, but that was before she started
living with Killian Jones. She didn’t know if it was his days in the Navy or
what, but he was…aggressively neat. There had been a few bumps in the road the
first week or so after he moved in; both she and Henry got a tad short with
him. One day she came home to him scrubbing out their bathroom. He was
literally on his knees scrubbing, whistling an old sea shanty and all she’d
wanted was a hot bath and…she might have said some hurtful things. She wasn’t
proud of it. The way he curled in on himself, blue eyes hurt and apologetic,
broke her heart. He’d left without a word, brushing past her. He didn’t even
get to the upstairs landing before she went after him, apologizing profusely.
Cassian goes to the fresher as soon as he gets a chance.
It’s not as soon as he gets back to the ship. Back at the ship, it’s clear that they are not yet the well-oiled machine Cassian thinks they one day might be. Kay and Jyn are bickering about her supply run, and Cassian needs to mediate that, then Bodhi needs to confirm their flight plan because he’s gotten news of Empire checkpoints on some of the hyperspace lanes, and Baze’s latest experiment with amping up his gun has caused what Chirrut described as ‘a minor explosion’ so he needs to make sure they’ll still get into the air, and there’s a quick report of a successful mission to make back to headquarters.
Once they’re in the air, and Bodhi’s flight plan is set and Kay’s flying co-pilot and Jyn, Chirrut, and Baze are looking at the gun to see what might have gone wrong, Cassian slips away.
He makes it to the ‘fresher, closes the door, and grips the edges of the sink, hard. Finally, here–he lets his head drop, lets himself take a long, rasping breath. Closes his eyes so that he doesn’t have to see his fists, what they look like.
@wtfmulder requested 12. When we lay together on the fresh spring grass for “The way you said I love you” prompts
When they’d first bought the house, the idea of domesticity had seemed novel to her, after all those years of hotel living and dusty comforters and greasy food and never feeling completely clean. It felt like playing house at first, like it was way too much fun to really be living. No one should laugh that much the first time they go to the grocery store, or do the laundry, or make dinner. (“It shouldn’t be this fun,” she remembers saying to Mulder, and he’d kissed her neck and said, “Maybe it’s the excellent company.” And, well, there was that.)
The novelty has almost entirely worn off at this point. She’s gotten a job and dyed her hair back to red and taken the job of “Provider for the Family” (”I love how you’re breaking down those 50′s stereotypes, Scully,” Mulder had joked), so she does the grocery shopping now. It’s less fun without Mulder cracking jokes that should not be as funny as they are every time they enter an aisle. It’s a travesty.
She still smiles at the sight of the hulking gate when she pulls up to it. It’s a pain, but it means home. This house is still their home, it hasn’t been cursed by the ghosts lingering at the edge of their minds. They haven’t been allowed to cross the threshold yet.
Scully carries her keys in one hand and the rustling group of grocery bags in the other. The creased grocery list is folded on top of the ice cream, covered in conflicting handwriting from where she pins it on the fridge in the space between trips and they write items they need as they run out. (Mulder’s taken to crossing out her items at times, some attempt to trick her that almost never works; she’s the one who does the shopping, after all.) The house is dark, shadowy and gray-lit when she enters. She methodically puts away groceries before looking for Mulder. He’s spent the days in his study ever since they got Internet and cable installed (it had been a good chance to test out the room mostly hidden behind the closet that the realtor had been delighted to tell them about, Mulder had grumpily hid there for hours with a stack of cheap paperbacks and when he’d griped, Scully reminded him that this was for him so he wouldn’t go insane all day). But the crack under the study is dark. She nudges it open with her fingers; empty, a picture rustling quietly against the wall with a slight breeze from the AC.
The effect is dumb but eerie, and enough to make her worry - it takes almost nothing to make them worry, nowadays. “Mulder?” Scully calls, walking the halls of the tiny house quickly. She checks every room methodically, but not every hiding place - Mulder may be an ass sometimes, but not enough of one to literally hide when she’s pacing the house calling his name. He’s not in any of them. Tamping down panic, Scully goes out on the back porch, preparing to shout his name when she sees him, sprawled out asleep on the lawn.
She smiles and goes across the limp green grass to join him. He’s halfway on top of a towel, and based on the portable telescope they’d bought at a yard sale sitting in the grass beside him, she guesses he was star gazing. She lies beside him, nudging her head under his arm. (The more tired they are, the more affectionate they tend to be.) “Wake up, Agent Mulder.”
“Mmph,” he says without opening his eyes. “Are you the FBI? Are you here to arrest me?”
“Yep. Solitary confinement,” she says, tickling his ribs. “A little off your guard there, Mulder?”
“It’s late. Stars are beautiful.”
“Mmm.” She lays her head on her shoulder, looking up at the stars. They can see so many of them out here, a blanket of little white dots. If they were younger, he might tease her about UFOS, but they are older and hardened from their abductions. Now there is just the stars. “Love you,” she says.
Mulder opens one eye, then the second, to look at her. “Love you, too,” he says, almost surprised. He kisses her head, scraggly beard scratching her scalp. “Why do you bring it up?”
“No reason, just… felt like the right time,” she says, moving up on her knees to settle over him. “I love you. I don’t say it enough.”
“You say it plenty,” he says, tugging her down for a kiss.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader x Becca Barnes (3 yrs old)
Warning: Cuteness // Fluffiness
Prompts: “Free Willy keep it in the tub.” - “Is that my shirt?” This was for @atari-writes I hope you enjoy and thank you for the Bucky love!!
“Bath time Becca!” Buck calls down the hall, a devilish
giggle echoes back at him. “Becca.” Buck chuckles as his daughter giggles once
more. “I will find you.” He chuckles setting down the princess towel in his
“Hehehe.” Becca laughs, as Buck stoops low and starts down
the hallway, looking for his daughter.