So I wrote fluff for Cross and Winters. I... don't have anything to say for myself, except maybe I am proud of this unplanned accomplishment. They're not a very fluffy couple.
For a woman who handled a gun so much, her hands were unexpectedly soft, but he expected that had something to do with her always wearing gloves. She only ever took the gloves off to bathe and in either of their bedrooms, as far as he knew, so it would make sense that her hands would be so soft. It also explained why she had such a fascination for tracing along the edges of his scars, the light touches enough to send shivers down his spine as she laid along his leg and side, her head pillowed on his side. It wasn't all that uncommon for them to be "cuddly" after sex, though it was more in the relaxing and tangling themselves together way, rather than any fluffy, cute bullshit. It was also common for her to do this, mapping out his scars with the sort of fascination the scientists looked at new chemical combinations with. It was a bit disconcerting at first, but he'd grown used to it after the second time she'd laid down next to him and done this, leaving him irritatingly horny again while she was still as content and relaxed as a cat stretched out in the sun.
If he had to guess, he'd say that her interest lay in the different textures between the scars and the rest of his skin, as well as between the rough scar tissue and her own soft skin. He hadn't really cared at the time, but she'd gone on about how the fingertips were some of the most sensitive places on the body, so he guessed that, due to the sharp contrast between her skin and his, it made for some incredibly interesting feelings for her as well. Of course, the feeling of her fingertips on his scars was nothing in comparison to the feeling of her lips on them. When she started kissing along the lengths of his scars he knew she was doing it just to tease him, planning on giving him nothing when she was done, at least not for a long enough time that his need to shag her had returned to ignorable levels. It wasn't often just simple touches from her could have him squirming and unable to figure out what to do with his hands, but whenever she stopped talking about miscellaneous things and turned the attention of her mouth to his scars, there was nothing he could do but attempt to muffle the rather embarrassing sounds that tried to escape.
What made it all worse was that Cross didn't have any scars for him to tease in revenge. The woman took obsessively good care of herself, making sure to never get any wounds she couldn't heal with a spell well enough and fast enough that it wouldn't scar. There was the scars hidden by her mask, but they were so small and the nerves so dead in them that she couldn't feel it regardless of what he did. As far as he could tell after many explorations of her body, she didn't even have any of usual rough-and-tumble scars from the life of a child. It was hard to think of her as anything younger than the boyish fourteen year old he'd first "met" at the Order a decade ago, but he knew she had to have been that young.
Not that scars from that long ago would have been sensitive enough for him to take advantage of and molest in response to her harassment of his various battle scars.