"Scotty..."
You grumble softly, biting your lip.
Every single time you lay down, Scott's there.
Because your laying down time is Scott Lang's cuddle time, apparently.
Case in point: you're on the bed, watching a show on your laptop after a shower.
You look extra cozy in a tank top and flannel pajama pants you stole from him, and he came in at just the right time.
"Come on. M'trying to watch something."
You try to playfully swat at him.
He just catches your hand and kisses each of your fingertips.
"Not my fault—"
Kiss.
"—you're distracting me."
Kiss.
"Just look at you—"
Kiss.
"—you're way too snuggle-able."
Kiss.
He can never keep his hands off of you.
It's like it's as vital as breathing for him.
He lays down on top of you, his chest to your back, and lets go of your hand to instead slide his up and down your sides.
"You're irresistible, really. It's no one's fault but your own."