Steve takes cuddling very seriously. Spending time with you without the kids is very rare so when it's just the two of you he makes the most of it. Be prepared for all the kisses. He sprinkles them along your jaw, your nose, your forehead, your eyelids, and finally a sweet peck on your lips. This man is full of love and he's willing to give you the world as long as you stay in his arms for just a few more minutes.
Eddie is a big fan of cuddling. His favorite way to keep you close to him is for you to be pressed against him as fully as possible. He'll hook his leg around your hip and of course, you use his bicep as a pillow. He stares at you with his big expressive eyes and just very blatantly tells you there's no other place he'd rather be. He is a very sweet guy, so he's 100% going to be whispering how special you are to him the whole time. Honestly, I think it's a given that you'd eventually get a song written in your honor. You are his muse.
Hopper is a giant softie (buried beneath his badge, of course), but he's also kinda timid when it comes to love. He was married so he knows how to be a romantic guy, for sure. But it's been a long time and the flings in between didn't mean much to him. When it comes to you he wants to do everything right, because it's what you deserve. He doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, so he waits for you to initiate the moment. Once he's confident in your comfort he's all about the cuddles. He is the big spoon most of the time, complaining that it feels like he's wearing a backpack when he's the little spoon (he'd rather face all the demodogs at once than have to admit that he enjoyed it down to his very core). His favorite position to cuddle is for him to be wrapped fully around your back, his arms pulling you snugly against his chest. Protective, intimate and so very relaxing.
It takes Billy the longest to get comfortable with cuddling. He likes the physicality of love, sure, but when it comes to cuddling he doesn't really know what's comfortable for his partner. We all know that Billy is a ladies man- he's had more girls than he cares to admit, but he's also a loner - emotionally he's closed off. It takes time and a lot of his type of comfort first (lots and lots of sexy time) but once you have him in your arms he melts against you completely. I feel like the intimacy of it would just have him so soft. He loves to lay his head on your chest, listening to your breathing, your heartbeat. You.
"You came," Draco said, vulnerability clear in his voice, betraying the carefree visage he presented.
"Of course I did," the girl laughed, the bright sound muffled by the thick yellow and black banded scarf around her neck. She sat on a blanket on the ground, patting the place beside her as she smiled up at him. "I wanted to see you. It isn't every day Draco Malfoy wants to sneak around with you, is it?"
"We've been sneaking around for weeks, darling." Draco chuckled. He lowered himself onto the ground and the girl instantly scooted closer to him, the warmth his body provided fighting off the early winter air. "Have you told your friends yet? Do they know you're fraternizing with a Slytherin?"
"They know I've been seeing someone, but I didn't feel the need to specify," she admitted. "Why do you ask?"
Draco shrugged, watching as she shivered. He didn't hesitate to wrap his arm around her shaking form, his gloved rubbing her shoulder to generate more warmth. "Not that I think on it often. But you've never cared..."
"That you're in Slytherin?" The girl clarified, arching her brow. "Why would I care what house you're in?"
Again he shrugged, leaning against her a little more. He'd never admit it, it'd tarnish his reputation if anyone were to find out, but he the thought of her dismissing his advances because of the colors he wore stung. "Most do."
"Hufflepuff," she reminded him gently, leaning her head against his shoulder. "We don't compartmentalize our relationships based on what house someone's in, Draco."
"You're a crazy lot." Draco smirked and knocked his elbow against her gently. "Damn wonky badgers."
He hadn't been gone long, a few weeks at the most, so when Robb came back to find his wife lying in their bed, a wet cloth on her head he was concerned. His mother sat by her beside, a bucket at her feet that had recently been filled with her sickness.
"My heart," he whispered softly. "Are you well?"
"Robb." The woman in the bed, her cheeks flushed red, smiled at him. "I'm so glad you're back!"
"What's happened?" He repeated. His blue eyes searched her for injury, but everything seemed well. He placed his hand on her jaw, smoothing his thumb over her cheek gently. "What's ailing you?"
"Nothing's ailing her, my son," Catelyn stood and pulled her eldest into a warm embrace. "She will be just fine."
Robb sat gently on the edge of their bed, flinching when he saw his wife's face turn an alarming shade of green. His mother gave her a sip of water and instructed her to take deep, calming breaths.
"Mother?" Robb looked to the firey-haired woman, his eyes pleading. "Is she going to be alright?"
Catelyn nodded and gave the girl a soft smile. "Everything she is experiencing is normal, my son. Such is the price of carrying a babe."
"A babe?" Robb whispered, turning his gaze back to his wife. "Truly?"
The sickly woman laughed slightly, her hand resting upon her stomach gently. "It seems so, my love."
Robb leaned up and covered her hand with his own. "I'll never leave you again. Either of you."
On the outside, people only saw what they wanted to see - sharp beskar armor, an unapologetic, fearsome, faceless man.
Before you met him you thought the same - you'd heard the hushed whispers, spoken in passing behind hands in the city walls about him. A bounty hunter so ruthless that even the most hardened of criminals quaked in fear at the mere sight of him. He was the best at his job, that much was certain.
Then when you officially met him and heard his voice you were shocked.
It wasn't the mechanical rasp that the helmet left in it's wake - no what shocked you the most was the emotionless, clipped sentences he grunted. You thought him a cold, shell of a man - he seemed more droid than he was human.
He was short with you, only speaking to answer your questions. His humor was dry, and condescending. It was a process, getting him to warm up to you - to tear down the walls he'd built around himself. You'd internally compared them to his armor, one shielding his body while the other shielded his heart.
The day you saved him was the day he decided to let you in - for better or for worse.
You didn't have a clear grip on what happened that day, but from what you remember -
He was standing there, his black cape flapping in the wind, his blaster pointed at the quarry, and it was then you realized how intimately terrifying the Mandalorian could be when he really tried. He was an immovable force - bending whoever was before him until they broke. He threw the binders on the ground beside the shivering man, barking an order at him when you saw it.
Through the corner of your eye you saw a blinding glint, sunshine on metal, to the right. Your mind processed faster than your body, your words stuck in your throat, but you were desperate, so you bolted toward the armor clad man, pushing with all your might. He stumbled, only barely, and then you crumpled at his feet, a burning so great in your side you thought you might die on the spot. He saw the burnt remnants of blaster fire that grazed your side, your shirt charred hopelessly around the wound.
Without another thought of the quarry, Mando fired two quick shots, one at the man before him and the other to the right, taking out the person hiding behind the jagged rocks. He bent down and plucked you from the ground, a curse leaving him as you went slack in his arms. He rushed you back to the Crest, his modulated voice trailing farther and farther away, and your last thoughts, funnily enough, were of how much he was actually speaking.
It was comical and terrifying all at once - how bad were you hit?
He treated your wound, wrapped it in a bacta patch and sent you to his cot where you stayed for days. Only leaving when you needed the 'fresher or when he was there to all but carry you so that you could 'stretch your legs'.
You noticed that since you'd been shot his tone was warmer, somehow. He was more inviting. The sentences he strung together finally lasted longer than a breath.
It seemed you'd finally met the man inside the armor.
In time he revealed his name to you - his true name. He was a complex, yet simple. Tough, while still tender. Everything you thought you knew about him had turned to ash in your mouth and you had never been so happy to have been proven wrong.
Din Djarin wasn't only beskar and blasters, he was soft, loving and warm.
Time stopped moving when he got that call. His heartbeat thudded painfully against his ribs. He didn’t know how much time had passed before he was able to utter out, “What happened?”
“She was in an accident,” Will told him gently. “They just brought her in.”
Jay rushed out of the station, jumped in his truck and sped like his life depended on it. He parked haphazardly in a space near the hospital doors and rushed inside. He passed the nurse’s station in search of his brother.
Will came out of one of the rooms looking tired. “Where is she?”
“Jay,” Will greeted calmly “She’s gonna be alright. She’s in surgery now - her leg is pretty bad but we’ve got a really good surgeon on this. She’s okay.”
Jay nodded, the backs of his eyes burning. “Thanks, man.”
Jay's sitting next to her hospital bed when she finally came to after her surgery. He watched as she got her bearings and then smiled down at her, his hand coming out to stroke her cheek gently. "Hey, you finally waking up?"
"Jay," she said quietly, sleep still lingering in her voice. "How long have you been here?"
"Not long." Jay answered. "How you feeling?"
"Um, thirsty, and..." The woman inhaled deeply through the oxygen tube in her nose. "Like I've been hit by a truck."
Jay gave her a humorless smile. "Really?"
"You asked." She tried to sit up when a pain in her leg shot through her. She gasped as Jay slowly guided her back against the bed. "Wow, okay, that hurts."
"Be careful," Jay warned. "You broke your leg. Your whole side is bruised, but your leg took the brunt of the hit."
She swallowed and nodded, her humor dissipating as the moments dragged on. "Must have been some accident."
"Yeah, it was." Jay sighed and took her hand in his, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "I'm just glad you're okay."
"You're not getting rid of me that easy, Jay," she smiled. “I’ve got to stick around. Keep you on your toes.”
Jay sniffed loudly, and swallowed down the intense emotion that burned his throat. “Good.”
A/N: So I imagined this being just when Brienne took Pod under her wing (so he wasn’t well-versed in fighting yet).
Requested by @curioiscat
Working in an Inn in times of war was frightful for women, especially if said woman was still in her prime. Y/N helped her family's Inn run smoothly, mostly doing some of the cooking, but when things got too much for her poor mother to handle she'd go out and help serve.
For a girl of only sixteen she was well seasoned in the handling of most men that frequented The Hungry Hen. Only a select few of the men was she wary of - the ones that behaved like starved dogs, grabbing for the first piece of meat they could find.
It was demeaning, but she wanted to make her parents proud. Letting them down wasn't an option, so she'd tear herself away from prying hands and go about her way.
Until the day she couldn't.
It was a terribly humid day. Sweat dripped off the end of her nose as she carried ale to the tables in the furthest corner of the Inn. She swiveled between patrons seamlessly, placing an ale here, and another there, and forced a smile before she reach the man seated all the way in the back.
"For you," she said kindly as she sat the tankard on the table before him.
He looked up at her with clouded eyes, his lips twisted into an ugly smirk. "And how much would it cost me for you?"
"I'm not for sale, ser." The young woman replied through clenched teeth. "Good day."
The man grabbed her arm and pulled her into his side. He reeked of ale and his grip was too tight. "Ser!"
"C'mon, las, don't make a soldier beg." His big hand trailed from her waist to her breast. She gasped, pushing against his chest.
"I said let me go!" She pushed and twisted in his grasp but he didn't relent. She searched for her mother, her father, anyone that she knew, but no one familiar met her eye. Panic overtook her and she grabbed the only thing she could reach, the serving tray she'd sat down before, and smashed it into the side of his head.
He groaned and released her, his hands flying to the wound that now dripped a slow trickle of blood, shocked at her ferocity. Then rose up, his hand on the handle of his blade. "You bitch. You dare strike me?"
"You wouldn't let go!" The girl said as she backed away. "I asked you nicely and you kept your filthy hands on me anyway!"
His face was red and blotchy. A vein on his neck throbbed with every beat of his heart. "I'll have your head for that."
"Please, I'm just trying to help my family make a living," the girl cried.
A hand touched her shoulder gently. She turned to find a pair of kind, brown eyes. "Don't worry, Miss. He'll not be causing you any more trouble."
"Yeah?" The man sneered. "And just who the Seven Hells are you?"
"I'm Podrick Payne." Just then the man, not much older than the girl herself, stepped in front of her. "It's not polite to threaten women, ser."
"Ain't polite for a woman to hit a man, either, now get out of my way." The man's hands tightened around the handle of his blade, "Or I'll kill you first."
Podrick shook his head and turned to her, his posture rigid. "I will fight for you, Miss. This man will not lay a hand on you unless he cuts me down."
The young woman nodded and prayed to The Seven that he would live once the brawl was over.
The men stepped forward and for a few sneaking moments the girl thought Podrick Payne might be able to hold his own. He was quick, and the big man was still in his heavy armor, slightly drunk, and blinded by rage. Podrick just barely dodged a heavy strike that were thrown at him, but his eyes still held no fear. With the breath caught in her throat, the girl watched as the men circled one another, not unlike animals in the wild.
"You're willing to die over the honor of a serving girl, boy?" The large man taunted. "Too cheap to buy yourself a lay with a proper whore?"
Podrick said nothing, but the corner of his lips pulled sharply down.
"C'mon, you were all talk a minute ago. I'll fight for you, Miss. What's the matter, Podrick Payne, have your balls suddenly shriveled?"
"Shut up!" Podrick lunged forward, his fist balled tight, and smashed it into the man's jaw. The big man stumbled back slightly, more angered than ever. He took a giant step forward and swung his arm, a deafening slap echoed throughout the Inn. Podrick was sent backwards with ease.
"I've 'ad enough of you," the big man seethed, stalking toward him, his hand on his blade.
Podrick was getting to his feet, his hand going to the blade on his hip as well. He ignored his freely bleeding nose and instead glanced over his shoulder at the girl. "Stay behind me, Miss."
"Enough!" A booming voice from behind the man resonated throughout the entire inn. A large warrior pushed between them and drew her blade as well. "Either you step down now or you'll fight me."
The drunk man laughed. "A woman? You think you scare me?"
"What's your choice?" The woman seethed. She pointed her sword at the man in challenge. "Step down or fight."
"You lot aren't worth the effort, anyway." The drunk man sneered and looked behind her at the young pair, his eyes full of fury. He spat on the ground at the woman's feet. "And your ale tastes like horse piss!"
The serving girl got on her knees beside Podrick, tearing a piece of her dress off to clean his nose as gently as she could. "Thank you for helping me."
"It's nothing, Miss." Podrick smiled softly. "I couldn't let him go on talkin' to you that way, not when you were just doin' your job."
She pressed the cloth against his nose and tilted his head back as gently as she could. "Let me know if I hurt you."
Podrick's lips stretched into a smile. "I can barley feel a think, thank you, Miss."
The girl wiped at the remaining specks of blood on his face and then she done something that shocked both Podrick and herself. She pressed the ghost of a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "You're a good man, Podrick Payne."
"Is that really what you'd do to fend off an attacker?" Bucky stared down at the woman, his eyebrow raised at her attempt to push him over.
The woman grunted, pushing against him with all her might. "You said, and I quote," she cleared her throat and lowered her tone, but still sounded nothing like him, "'Show me what you've got, doll.'"
Bucky snickered. "And this is what you show me?"
"Are you going to laugh at me all day or are you going to help?" She groaned. "I could just go ask Sam for help. He'd be glad to, I'm sure. And he wouldn't mock me."
Bucky sobered, a little offended she'd go to anyone else but him. "Hey, I'm just kidding. I'll help you."
The woman placed her hands on her hips, her lips in a tight line. "Fine. I'm waiting."
Bucky nodded and swallowed the remnants of his laughter, which was very hard to do when he had a mental clip of her shoving against his chest replaying in his head on loop. He cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders. "Okay, if I were your enemy and I were coming toward you - to hurt you or worse - what would you do?"
The woman blinked. "I'd, uh... punch you?"
"Punch me?"
"Yep." She nodded. "Do I get a point for that?"
Bucky shook his head. "Show me."
"No," she blanched."I not going to actually punch you, Bucky."
"C'mon, doll, don't be scared. Punch me." Bucky prompted. "You aren't going to hurt me, I promise."
The woman stood silently, watching the gears in his head turn before he stomped toward her, an intimidating glint in his eye. She swallowed at his long strides, the way his set his shoulders so that he looked even wider than usual. He flexed his fists at his sides and then grabbed at her.
Her eyes widened and she ducked, twisting beneath his arm with a squeal. "What the hell -"
He didn't give her time to complain, turning on his heel and stalking toward her once again.
She nodded to herself, her mind trying to come up with something that could help her if he - Bucky Barnes - were really her enemy. She perked at one of the ideas, the tips of her ears burning as she committed to it. She waited until he was close enough to her and, in just a few seconds, he reach out to grab her again. His arms were caged around her and she placed her hands, quickly, on either side of his scruffy face.
She saw his facade falter slightly, his blue eyes bolting up to meet her own.
He swallowed, but kept his arms around her, watching her with an intensity akin to fire. She gently guided his face toward her own, her eyes falling shut when she felt his breathing stutter in anticipation. She felt him stiffen, his hands gripping onto her shirt as he waited for her to close the gap that burned so desperately between them.
She pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth in a feather light kiss. He rubbed his hands up her back, one taking hold of the back of her head and the other gently tracing her spine.
"Bucky," she whispered his name against his lips like a prayer. He sighed, his tongue darting out over his bottom lip as he pulled her chest even closer to his own. She tilted her head slightly, so close to his mouth she could almost taste him, and then, with as much force as she could muster, she pushed hard against his chest.
THUD.
Bucky landed on the mat, his blue eyes wide. "What-"
"Well, Bucky," she winked at him, her cheeks and chest still flushed hot from her boldness. "Looks like I got you."
