#The moment you realize he's got a big heart under the gruff exterior

[urdreamydoodles]

hi! may i request a x-men headcanon where their SO protects them during a battle/fight? i love the idea of these oh so powerful characters being protected

X-Men x Reader (Part.1)

You protect them during a fight

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Rogue, Erik Lehnsherr, Charles Xavier, Bobby Drake, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Emma Frost, Laura Kinney & Wade Wilson

Hi everyone. As you have seen the requests are closed, because I need to catch up first before reopening them. I hope you understand. And thank you Anon, I love this prompt.

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- Logan had always been the one protecting you. It was his default mode: putting himself between you and any threat without hesitation. So when you threw yourself in front of him during a fight, claws and bullets flying, he froze for a split second. “What the hell are you doing?!” he growled, his voice a mix of anger and panic. It wasn’t fear for himself—it was fear for you.

- You didn’t answer, focusing on deflecting an incoming blow with whatever weapon you had on hand. The sight of you so fiercely determined to keep him safe left Logan stunned, his heightened senses zeroing in on the rapid beat of your heart. He hated that you were putting yourself in danger, but a small, buried part of him felt something else—pride.

- After the fight, Logan pulled you aside, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly. “You’re outta your damn mind,” he snarled, though his eyes betrayed his worry. “You don’t need to protect me—I’m the one who does that, got it?” You could see the conflict in him, the way his gruff exterior was cracking under the weight of his feelings for you.

- Later that night, Logan found you tending to your own wounds, stubborn as ever. He sat beside you, quiet for once. “Look, I get it,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t like seein’ you get hurt for me. But… thanks.” It was rare for Logan to express gratitude so openly, and the way he looked at you then—like you were the strongest person he’d ever met—made your heart ache in the best way.

- From then on, Logan learned to accept that you weren’t someone who would just stand by when he was in danger. “You’re a pain in my ass,” he’d mutter whenever you stepped in to protect him again, though his smirk betrayed his true feelings. He respected you even more for it, knowing you’d fight for him as fiercely as he’d fight for you.

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy was the master of charm and cunning, always finding a way to dodge danger or talk his way out of a fight. So when you charged in to shield him from an energy blast mid-battle, he was caught completely off guard. “Chérie, what you doin’?” he called, his voice tinged with disbelief and worry as he watched you take the brunt of the attack.

- You shrugged it off, focusing on getting him to safety. Remy, who had always prided himself on being in control, felt an unfamiliar pang of vulnerability. The sight of you putting yourself on the line for him stirred something deep within—a mixture of guilt and admiration.

- After the fight, Remy found you leaning against a wall, catching your breath. He approached you with his usual swagger, though his red-on-black eyes betrayed his concern. “Y’know, I’m supposed to be the knight in shining armor, non?” he teased, but his tone was softer than usual. He reached out, brushing a stray hair from your face. “Don’t go scarin’ me like dat again, yeah?”

- That night, Remy couldn’t help but replay the moment in his mind. It wasn’t often that someone would risk themselves for him, and it made him realize just how much you meant to him. He pulled you close, his hand resting on the small of your back. “You got a heart as big as the Mississippi, mon amour,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “But let me take care o’ you next time.”

- From then on, Remy made it his mission to protect you just as fiercely as you protected him. Still, whenever you stepped in to save him during a fight, he couldn’t help but grin. “Dat’s my love,” he’d say with a wink, his pride in you shining through even in the heat of battle.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt was no stranger to danger, his agility and teleportation making him a formidable opponent in any fight. But when he found himself cornered by an enemy, only to see you teleport—or sprint—into harm’s way to shield him, his golden eyes widened in shock. “Mein Schatz, nein!” he cried, reaching for you instinctively, his heart racing at the sight of you defending him.

- You fought with a determination that left Kurt breathless, your movements precise and unyielding. For once, the usually nimble and quick-witted mutant found himself at a loss for words. The way you protected him, fearless and selfless, struck a chord deep within him.

- After the dust settled, Kurt appeared at your side in an instant, his hands gently checking you for injuries. “Why would you do that for me?” he asked, his voice soft yet trembling with emotion. When you gestured or explained that you’d do anything to keep him safe, his heart swelled with a mixture of love and guilt. “You are too precious to me,” he said, his tail curling around your waist protectively.

- That evening, Kurt refused to leave your side. He wrapped you in his arms, his warmth and the faint scent of brimstone enveloping you. “You are my everything,” he murmured, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your back. “But please, promise me you will be careful. I could not bear to lose you.”

- From then on, Kurt saw you not just as his partner but as his equal in every sense. He admired your bravery and strength, though he couldn’t help but worry whenever you put yourself in harm’s way for him. “You are my hero,” he’d tell you with a teasing smile, though the sincerity in his voice made it clear he truly meant it.

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- Scott was used to being the leader, the one responsible for keeping everyone safe. So when you leapt in front of him to block an attack during a heated battle, his usually composed demeanor cracked. “What are you doing?!” he shouted, his voice filled with both anger and fear as he fired a concussive blast to finish off the threat.

- Watching you fight to protect him stirred a whirlwind of emotions in Scott. He admired your courage, but the sight of you putting yourself at risk for his sake left him shaken. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said firmly once the fight was over, though his hands were trembling as he reached for you.

- You tried to explain that you couldn’t stand by and watch him get hurt, but Scott’s jaw tightened, his concern overshadowing his usual logical demeanor. “I’m supposed to protect you,” he insisted, though the gratitude in his eyes betrayed his words. He hated feeling vulnerable, but he couldn’t deny how much your actions meant to him.

- Later that night, Scott found you in the med bay, patching up a minor wound. He sat beside you, his hand covering yours. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he said quietly, his voice softening. “But please, don’t scare me like that again.” His lips brushed against your forehead, a rare moment of tenderness from the stoic leader.

- From that moment on, Scott’s respect for you deepened even further. He still tried to protect you whenever he could, but he also learned to trust your strength. “You’re my partner,” he said one day, his hand finding yours. “We protect each other.” His smile was small but genuine, a reflection of the unshakable bond you’d built together.

- Jean was always the empathetic one, attuned to the emotions and thoughts of those she cared about. During a mission gone sideways, an enemy blast was heading straight for her. Before she could react, you threw yourself in the line of fire, your shield or power absorbing the impact. Jean’s green eyes widened, and for a moment, all she could feel was panic. “What were you thinking?!” her voice echoed telepathically and out loud simultaneously, both scolding and filled with fear.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- The battle continued, but Jean’s focus kept flickering back to you. Even as she unleashed telekinetic waves and telepathic strikes, her thoughts were drawn to how recklessly you had acted for her sake. When the fight was over, she rushed to your side, her hands trembling as she checked you over. “You’re okay,” she breathed, relief washing over her like a wave. But then her tone shifted, more serious. “You’re never doing that again.”

- Back at the mansion, Jean sat with you in the med bay, her fingers brushing over your bandaged arm. “You know I can take care of myself,” she said softly. “But the fact that you stepped in… it means everything to me.” Her emotions were a mix of guilt and admiration, and her psychic connection to you buzzed with a warmth that made your heart ache.

- That evening, Jean made sure you rested, though she stayed by your side the entire time. “You’re stronger than you think,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But don’t think for a second that I’d ever let something happen to you. You’re my everything.” Her confession was quiet but sincere, and the glow of her powers seemed softer, more intimate, in the dim light.

- From then on, Jean’s respect for you deepened even further. While she still tried to shield you during battles, she also began to see you as her equal, someone she could rely on. “You’re my partner in every way,” she told you one day, her telepathic voice brushing against your mind like a gentle caress. “We protect each other, always.”

- Ororo was grace and power incarnate, her calm exterior rarely breaking even in the most chaotic situations. But when a battle turned dire and an enemy aimed for her while her back was turned, you didn’t hesitate. Throwing yourself in harm’s way, you used every ounce of your strength to protect her. Lightning crackled in the air as Ororo spun around, her silver eyes wide with shock and fury. “Why would you do that?!” she demanded, her voice carrying the weight of a storm.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

- Even as the fight raged on, Ororo’s attention kept straying to you, her heart pounding in a way she hadn’t felt in years. The idea of you getting hurt for her sake was unbearable, and yet, she couldn’t deny the overwhelming respect she felt for your bravery. When the battle ended, she landed gracefully beside you, her hands glowing faintly as she helped heal your wounds with a soft breeze.

- “You could have been seriously hurt,” Ororo said, her tone softer now but still laced with worry. She cupped your face gently, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “You mean too much to me to take such risks.” Her words were both a reprimand and a confession, her eyes reflecting the depth of her feelings for you.

- That night, Ororo brought you to her greenhouse, the air filled with the scent of blooming flowers and fresh rain. “I’ve always believed in protecting those I care about,” she said, her voice like a melody. “But you… you’ve shown me that love is a two-way street.” Her fingers intertwined with yours as she smiled, a rare and genuine expression of vulnerability.

- From that moment on, Ororo saw you as her equal, someone she could rely on even in the most dangerous situations. “You’re as fierce as the storm itself,” she told you one day, her voice filled with pride. “And I’ll always be grateful to have you by my side.”

- Rogue had always been careful about keeping people at a distance, her powers making physical contact a constant danger. But when a fight turned south and an enemy got the upper hand, you didn’t hesitate to step in and protect her. You took the blow meant for her, even though it left you gasping for breath. “What the hell are you doin’, sugar?!” Rogue shouted, her Southern accent thick with worry as she fought to keep the attackers at bay.

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

- After the fight, Rogue knelt beside you, her gloved hands hovering over your injuries. “Why would you do that?” she asked, her voice cracking. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be protectin’ you.” Her green eyes shimmered with unshed tears, the vulnerability in her expression breaking your heart.

- Back at the mansion, Rogue stayed by your side, refusing to leave until she was sure you were okay. “You’re the stubbornest person I’ve ever met,” she said with a shaky laugh, brushing a strand of hair from your face with her gloved fingers. “But I guess that’s one o’ the reasons I love you.” Her confession was quiet, almost hesitant, but the look in her eyes left no room for doubt.

- That evening, Rogue sat with you on the porch, the night air cool against your skin. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” she said, her voice soft. “I’ve spent so long keepin’ people at arm’s length, afraid of hurtin’ ‘em. But you… you make me wanna take the risk.” She reached for your hand, her glove the only barrier between your skin and hers, but the connection was still electric.

- From then on, Rogue made it clear that she would do anything to keep you safe, even as she learned to trust your strength. “We’re a team, sugar,” she said one day, her smile warm and genuine. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

- Erik was used to being the protector, his mastery over magnetism making him a force to be reckoned with. So when you stepped in to shield him during a heated battle, deflecting an attack with your own powers or sheer determination, he was caught completely off guard. “Are you mad?” he demanded, his voice a mix of anger and concern as he pulled you behind him.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- Even as he fought off the remaining enemies, Erik couldn’t shake the image of you standing so bravely in front of him. The thought of you risking yourself for his sake stirred emotions he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years—fear, admiration, and an aching tenderness.

- After the fight, Erik confronted you, his expression stern but his eyes betraying his worry. “Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?” he asked, his voice low. When you explained your actions, his jaw tightened, and he looked away, struggling to hide the vulnerability in his expression. “You’re remarkable,” he finally admitted, his voice soft. “But reckless.”

- That night, Erik sat with you in his study, the room filled with the soft hum of his powers as he absentmindedly manipulated a small piece of metal. “You remind me of why I fight,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “You make me believe in something greater than myself.” His confession was uncharacteristically open, and the way he looked at you then made your heart race.

- From that moment on, Erik began to see you as his equal, someone he could trust and rely on. While he still tried to protect you during battles, he also respected your strength and determination. “Together, we’re unstoppable,” he told you one day, his hand resting on yours. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

- Charles had always prided himself on being the one who guided and protected others, both physically and mentally. During a heated skirmish, when the enemy targeted him while he was focused on neutralizing their minds, you acted without hesitation. You threw yourself into the fray, using your powers or sheer determination to shield him from harm. When the dust settled, Charles wheeled himself over to you, his face pale. “You could have been seriously injured,” he said softly, though his tone carried a mix of gratitude and concern.

Charles Xavier aka. Professor X

- Throughout the aftermath of the fight, Charles kept his composure, but his worry lingered. As the team regrouped, he observed you quietly, his telepathic thoughts touching yours with gentle reassurance. Later, when the others left, he finally addressed you. “Why would you take such a risk for me?” he asked, his blue eyes searching yours for an answer. When you replied that you’d do it again without question, he sighed, a small, bittersweet smile gracing his face.

- Back at the mansion, Charles invited you to his study. “You know,” he began, fingers steepled in thought, “I’ve spent so much time protecting others that I’ve forgotten what it feels like to have someone protect me.” There was a vulnerability in his words that surprised you. “Thank you,” he added, his voice quiet but full of emotion.

- Over the following days, Charles couldn’t help but admire your bravery. He found himself drawn to your selflessness and began to see you in a new light. One evening, as the two of you sat by the fire, he finally admitted, “I’ve grown quite attached to you. More than I ever expected.” His confession was gentle but sincere, his psychic presence brushing against your mind like a warm embrace.

- From that point on, Charles became even more protective of you, though he also respected your strength and independence. “We’re stronger together,” he said one day, taking your hand in his. “And I promise, I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe—just as you’ve done for me.”

- Bobby had always been the joker of the group, rarely taking anything too seriously. But during a particularly chaotic fight, when an enemy’s attack veered toward him, he was caught off guard. Before he could react, you stepped in, using your quick thinking and courage to protect him. “Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?!” he shouted, his voice tinged with panic as he watched you take the brunt of the attack.

Bobby Drake aka. Iceman

- After the battle, Bobby rushed to your side, his usual playful demeanor replaced with genuine concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, his hands hovering over you as if afraid to touch you. When you shrugged it off and made a joke, he blinked, then shook his head. “I should be the one cracking jokes, not you,” he muttered, though his grin was tinged with guilt.

- Back at the mansion, Bobby stayed close, making sure you were patched up and comfortable. “You know,” he said, trying to sound casual, “you’re kind of amazing. Stupidly reckless, but amazing.” He fiddled with an ice construct in his hands, his usual confidence giving way to a rare vulnerability. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

- Over the next few days, Bobby couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d done for him. He started showing up more often, finding excuses to be around you. One night, as you were watching a movie together, he finally blurted out, “Okay, so maybe I kinda like you. A lot.” His cheeks flushed, and he looked away, pretending to focus on his popcorn.

- From then on, Bobby made it his mission to keep you safe, though he never stopped teasing you about your heroic antics. “You’re my favorite reckless hero,” he said one day, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “But don’t think for a second that I’m letting you pull a stunt like that again.”

- Wanda had always carried the weight of her powers, her ability to reshape reality making her a target in almost every battle. During one such fight, when an enemy’s attack threatened to overwhelm her, you stepped in, using everything you had to protect her. “What are you doing?!” she shouted, her voice breaking as she watched you face the danger meant for her. Her chaos magic surged uncontrollably in response, red energy crackling in the air.

Wanda Maximoff aka. The Scarlet Witch

- After the fight, Wanda rushed to your side, her hands trembling as she checked for injuries. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, her voice soft but laced with worry. When you explained that you couldn’t stand by and do nothing, her expression shifted to one of awe and guilt. “You’re incredible,” she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

- Back at the mansion, Wanda couldn’t seem to leave your side. She sat with you in the quiet of her room, her fingers tracing patterns in the air as she used her magic to soothe your aches. “I’ve always been the one who protects others,” she said softly. “But you… you’ve turned that upside down.” Her eyes met yours, filled with an emotion she couldn’t quite put into words.

- As days passed, Wanda’s feelings for you only deepened. She found herself opening up to you in ways she hadn’t with anyone else, sharing her fears and vulnerabilities. One evening, as you both watched the stars from the mansion roof, she took your hand in hers. “You make me feel safe,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And that’s not something I’m used to.”

- From then on, Wanda became fiercely protective of you, though she also began to trust in your strength. “We’re a team,” she said one day, her magic swirling around her fingers like a promise. “And I won’t let anything happen to you. Not ever.”

- Pietro was always the fastest, the one who could outmaneuver danger in the blink of an eye. So when a fight took a dangerous turn and you leaped in to protect him, he was stunned. “Are you crazy?!” he shouted, zipping over to your side as you deflected an attack meant for him. His silver hair was disheveled, and his blue eyes were wide with disbelief.

Pietro Maximoff aka. Quicksilver

- Even as the battle continued, Pietro couldn’t stop glancing at you, his usual cocky demeanor replaced with genuine concern. When the fight finally ended, he was by your side in an instant. “You know I can take care of myself, right?” he said, though his voice cracked slightly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

- Back at the mansion, Pietro couldn’t sit still. He paced back and forth in your room, occasionally stopping to check on you. “You scared the hell out of me, you know that?” he said, his usual bravado nowhere to be found. But when you teased him about being worried, he smirked, the tension breaking for just a moment. “Don’t get used to it,” he muttered, though his eyes betrayed his true feelings.

- Over the next few days, Pietro found himself sticking closer to you than usual. He’d zip in and out of rooms, checking on you, bringing you snacks, or just hanging around. One day, as he sat next to you, he finally said, “You’re kind of amazing, you know that?” His voice was quieter than usual, and the look in his eyes made your heart skip a beat.

- From then on, Pietro became even more protective of you, though he couldn’t resist teasing you about your heroic antics. “You’re lucky I like you,” he said one day, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Because no one else gets to scare me like that and live to tell the tale.”

- Emma was used to being the one who controlled situations, her sharp wit and psychic prowess leaving little room for vulnerability. During a battle, when an enemy’s attack zeroed in on her, she was caught off guard. Before she could react, you stepped in, using your abilities—or sheer determination—to protect her. “What on earth are you doing?” she snapped, her diamond form shimmering as she deflected the remnants of the attack. But beneath her icy tone, there was a flicker of shock and something softer.

Emma Frost aka. The White Queen

- After the battle, Emma confronted you immediately, her arms crossed and her piercing gaze fixed on you. “Do you make a habit of risking your life for others, or am I just that lucky?” she asked, her voice laced with sarcasm. When you explained your actions, her expression softened for just a moment before she masked it with a smirk. “You’re either foolish or incredibly brave. I can’t decide which.”

- Over the next few days, Emma found herself replaying the moment in her mind. Despite her efforts to maintain her usual aloof demeanor, she couldn’t help but admire your courage. One evening, she invited you to her office under the guise of discussing strategy. “You’re surprisingly impressive,” she admitted, her voice quieter than usual. “But don’t think for a second that I need saving.”

- As time passed, Emma’s walls began to crack, and she found herself drawn to you in ways she hadn’t anticipated. One night, as the two of you shared a rare quiet moment in the garden, she reached out and took your hand. “You make me feel… safe,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I don’t say that lightly.”

- From then on, Emma became fiercely protective of you, though she expressed it in her own unique way. “You’re mine now,” she said one day, her tone both teasing and possessive. “So don’t think for a second that I’ll let anything happen to you.”

- Laura had always been the protector, her claws and instincts honed for battle. So when you jumped in to shield her during a fight, she was stunned. “What are you doing?!” she growled, her emerald eyes flashing with anger and concern. She quickly dispatched the enemy, then turned to you, her expression a mix of frustration and confusion. “You didn’t have to do that,” she muttered, though her voice was softer than usual.

Laura Kinney aka. X-23 / Wolverine

- After the fight, Laura couldn’t seem to leave your side. She hovered awkwardly, her protective instincts clashing with her feelings of guilt. “You’re reckless,” she said bluntly, her arms crossed as she tried to mask her worry. But when you smiled and told her it was worth it, her tough exterior cracked just a little. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, though there was a hint of a smile on her lips.

- Back at the mansion, Laura watched you like a hawk, her keen senses constantly on alert. She didn’t know how to process the fact that someone had risked themselves for her. “I don’t need saving,” she said one day, her voice quieter than usual. “But… thank you.” The words felt foreign on her tongue, but the sincerity in her eyes was unmistakable.

- Over time, Laura found herself drawn to your bravery and selflessness. She admired the way you faced danger without hesitation, even if it frustrated her to no end. One evening, as the two of you sat on the mansion roof, she finally opened up. “You mean more to me than I know how to say,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “But if you ever do something that reckless again, I’ll kill you myself.”

- From that moment on, Laura became fiercely protective of you, though she respected your independence. “We’re a team,” she said one day, her hand brushing yours. “But that doesn’t mean I’m letting you get hurt. Not if I can help it.”

- Wade was used to being the one who took the hits, his healing factor allowing him to shrug off injuries that would kill anyone else. So when you leaped in to protect him during a fight, he was utterly baffled. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Time out!” he shouted, pulling you behind him. “What are you doing? I’m the one who’s supposed to play human shield here!”

Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool

- After the battle, Wade didn’t stop talking about your “heroic” actions. “Seriously, you’re like my own personal bodyguard! Except way cuter,” he quipped, his tone playful but laced with genuine concern. When you rolled your eyes and told him you couldn’t just stand by, he grinned. “Aw, you care about me! I’m touched. Like, emotionally. And probably physically later if I’m lucky.”

- Despite his jokes, Wade couldn’t hide how much your actions affected him. He started sticking closer to you, his usual chaotic energy tempered by an uncharacteristic protectiveness. “You know,” he said one day, tossing a chimichanga your way, “you’re kind of amazing. And not just because you’re willing to risk your life for a guy who looks like a melted candle.”

- Over time, Wade’s feelings for you grew deeper, though he still struggled to express them without humor. One night, as the two of you sat on a rooftop eating takeout, he finally got serious. “You’re the first person who’s made me feel like I’m worth something,” he said, his voice unusually quiet. “So, thanks for that. And also for being insanely hot.”

- From that point on, Wade became even more devoted to you, though he never stopped teasing you about your heroic antics. “You’re my favorite reckless hero,” he said one day, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “But let’s make a deal: next time, let me take the hits. I heal faster, and you’re way too pretty to mess up.”

[gatorlovebot]

imagine being simon’s personally appointed handmaiden. a very uncommon practice for a king, but he was also unwed, uncommon for a king of his status and age.

a very gruff man with a hard exterior but over the years you two had developed a great rapport with one another. mostly waiting to be behind closed doors to really let loose when it came to both of your respective personalities. in front of the other staff and royalty you were quiet and obedient, but when it was just you and simon you could rib the masked king for days, feeling a thrill in your stomach whenever you got him to huff out a laugh. he could dish it right back though, pulling mind numbing puns from out of nowhere that you pretend aren’t funny. it makes him laugh even harder when you roll your eyes, your only acknowledgement of his “jokes”.

you two were very close, spending most of your waking moments with him. you didn’t expect to like it as much as you do when you were originally appointed to be the king’s sole handmaiden. the king was quite intimidating, the task itself seemed so daunting and you had just assumed that he would be using you for more nefarious duties. while a life of servitude may not have been what you pictured for yourself, a life of servitude for simon was definitely not what you had pictured either.

he was big and imposing and impossible to wake up in the morning. over time you had resorted to flicking water in his face when he was getting really close to sleeping through some of his important appointments that morning.

he liked his baths scalding hot. you would turn your back to him as he shrugged off his robe and submerged himself in the steamy water, pretending to futz with his towels. you always felt something in your heart settle when you heard his deep and satisfied sigh as he finally allowed his muscle to relax under the hot water.

he always wanted you to pick out his clothes. didn’t matter the ocassion either, he said you never lead him astray with your choices. you always felt a sense of smug, satisfation when he finally lumbered out of bed and pulled on the clothes that you had already laid out for him without a word.

the other servants talk, of course. whispers and rumors bouncing off the castle walls about all the time you spent with the king. you tried not to let it get to you, simon promising to get rid of anyone who spoke a cross word about you. he was a man of his word, having banished a knight the month prior who had made an awful joke about the little peasant girl keeping the king’s bed warm at night.

your relationship with simon had well surpassed just your duties, he was kind and although you would never say it to anyone because he’s the fucking king, you consider him a friend. but you can’t help but realize how many moments you two have had recently. moments that cross the bounds of your relationship.

you sat in your little stool behind the tub simon currently was sprawled out in. having just finished washing out all the soap from his blonde hair you sat back, relaxing your aching body for a moment before you would have to get him out and send him off to bed.

“long day, ah?” he commented.

all you could do was hum in affirmation, eyes closed enjoying the quiet of the king’s large bathroom.

“here,” he murmured, not wanting to disrupt the quiet tranquility you two had created, “pop your feet in.”

you cracked an eye open to see him start sitting up in the tub, turning back to you. “what?”

once he saw he had your attention he settled himself back down, shoulders against the basin of the tub. “slip your shoes off and just,” he motioned to his shoulders, voice dipping low. you could picture his eyes slipping shut again.

you hesitated for a moment, realizing the gravity of what he was asking of you. but he was also your king and even though you two had an unconventional relationship, you dare not go against his wishes.

you slip your shoes off and bunch your skirt up in your hands, pulling it over your knees as to not get it wet. you did as you were instructed and pulled a leg over each of his shoulders, shuddering at the hot water alleviating the tenderness in your feet.

“feel good?” simon pondered.

“yes, very much so,” you can’t help but smile, “thank you, simon”

he laughs to himself, just a little breath huffed through his nose, “anytime.”

you slipped your eyes back shut and allowed yourself a moment to sit and breathe and relax. the feeling of movement snaps you out of your reverie, simon reaching up a hand to loosely hold around your ankle. you see his head shift, his stubbly cheek resting against your calf. you had asked him if he wanted to shave before his bath, but he declined, cranky from his long day and just wanting to get into his bath.

you’re shocked at the touch, not as if you and simon hadn’t shared casual touches before but this seemed. emotional. intimate.

you dare not upset your king, but you know something like this can’t go on for much longer. “should probably get you to bed soon, your highness.” you know he hates it when you use his title when it's just the two of you, but you feel the need to have a degree of separation between the two of you, if not you fear you might do something stupid like reach down and get your fingers through his hair.

simon sighs against your skin and you burn at the way you can feel his lips moving, “just a little bit longer, please?”

you can never deny your king, but you never want to deny simon.

[nancyjocom]

Febressuary

Day 2 → The Moment You Fell in Love with Ressler

[actuallysaiyan]

congrats on your 2k 💕🥳 hope i’m not too late i got busy

Name: Lisa

Pronoun: she/her

Personality: shy, soft spoken, big hearted, caring

Star sign: leo

Favorite thing to do: reading, listening to heavy metal

fandom: naruto

who i love most: baki

who i hate: danzo

man or woman: man

smut: y e s

anyone i don’t want to be matched with: danzo, uh pretty much anyone who’s not suna nin lol

ideal date: eating sushi at a nice, private area

My Life In...

Naruto

After some extensive research, we've concluded that you are best matched with...BAKI! Congrats!

In this universe, you and Baki work together and you've helped the Sand Siblings grow up to be who they are today. Nowadays, you and Baki have a travel blog together and lots of love. Here's your love story...

Matched with: Baki Skills/career: Baki’s assistant. You help teach the Sand Siblings. You are very proficient with all kinds of jutsus, but you mostly focus on air jutsu. Song: Forever by KISS Best Friends: Rasa, Gaara, Kankuro, TemariLove at first sight: Totally.

How you met: Rasa had asked you to become Baki’s assistant. You were to help him with teaching the Sand Siblings how to fight and become stronger shinobi. But you became a mother figure to them in a way. They clung to you like you were the best thing in the world, and Baki found you so sweet and so caring. From the get go, he couldn’t stop himself from being so attracted to you. You really showed him softness he hadn’t seen in so long. You two worked hard together, and it wasn’t long before you realized how good of a team you made.

How you fell in love:  It didn’t take long at all. Baki was a little shy about it, despite his gruff exterior. He would often find himself longing for you. In the cold nights in his bedroom, he would imagine you here warming up his bed. Eventually, he decided to just try and get closer to you. He would find ways to accidentally brush up against you. Then it was soft whispers whenever you needed him to repeat himself. You were starting to fall for him hard. You could see his true nature under that tough exterior. And one night, before you left for home, he kissed you softly on the cheek. Your heart skipped a beat and you knew he was the one for you.

Your first date: Baki had it all nice and planned. He was taking you out on this romantic weekend alone with you. The two of you had planned to take this little trip outside of the Sand Village. Rasa had approved and you were really excited to leave the village. It was in this beautiful inn near the water. You don’t even really remember what village it was, but it was so breathtaking. The whole weekend, Baki took you to all kinds of places. Little gift shops, sightseeing, eating your favorite foods. It was honestly one of the best weekends of your entire life and you always look back on it fondly.

Your first time being intimate: He took it slow with you. It was during that little getaway weekend, but he was still so romantic about it. He ran you a bath, filling the water with sweet rose petals. Baki took his time washing you and massaging you. Then he brought you to the bed, where the two of you shared a bottle of wine. You were so full of love and warmth. Baki took his time with you, but it became so frantic so quick as well. You enjoyed every single moment of it. He loved to kiss you all over.

“Such a beautiful girl,” Baki mutters against your skin. He’s pressed against you as close as he can. His cock brushes up against your sweet spot again, making you moan softly.

You cling to him, your body shaking as you sit right there on the edge. Baki has been edging you for so long, you can’t even remember what time it is. You can barely keep up with everything he’s been doing to you. Your body is lined with a small amount of sweat, and the smell of you is driving him crazy.

He ruts his hips quickly, and you begin whining his name. You’ve never had a lover before. Baki was your first, and he enjoys it so much. You’re all his now. This whole weekend was going better than he had anticipated. Another soft whine, and he’s capturing your lips with his. A few more thrusts, and you feel the coil in your stomach snap. White hot pleasure possesses your body and you can barely catch your breath.

“Good girl, cumming so hard for daddy.”

Those words push you even further, and your juices run down your ass and thighs as you soak Baki in your essence. He fucks you through every little wave of pleasure, and your nails dig into the sinewy muscle of his arms. This is truly heaven.

Where are you now: You and Baki still help Gaara with his Kazekage affairs and you still try to visit Kankuro and Temari as much as possible. You and Baki have decided to start traveling the world and you actually do a travel blog. Baki wants to marry you, but he hasn’t been able to pluck up the courage to ask you. What you both don’t know just yet is that you are pregnant with Baki’s baby!

General headcanons:

When it gets cold in the desert nights, Baki loves to bundle the two of you up in blankets and cuddle up. It’s so cozy with you in the linens and watching a show together.

You love to make him lunch and homemade lemonade and you bring this to him often whenever he’s in the office with Gaara. And of course, you make Gaara lunch as well.

Baki likes to take long baths after long days. His favorite thing is to have you in the bath with you and you’re both soothing your sore muscles.

He loves traveling the world with you. He always tries to find a sweet little souvenir to buy so that you’ll have something to use as a decoration when the two of you get home.

He will still spar with you and he will probably want you both to continue your training. Baki enjoys that you’re both shinobi and that you both can fight very well.

Baki will take you somewhere to stargaze whenever he gets the chance. To see your eyes shine in the moonlight, it’s something he’ll never forget. He likes to see you like this often.

Sexy headcanons:

Baki enjoys that he’s quite a bit taller than you. He likes that he can pin you to the wall and have his way with you. Sometimes he’s frustrated and he needs you now.

Baki also enjoys being sweet with you. He’ll be good for aftercare, cuddling you and pillow talk. He enjoys bathing you and massaging you a lot. He just loves doting on you, but even more so after sex.

He’ll have you squirting like a fountain. Baki knows how to make you feel good, he’s mapped out all the spots you enjoy being stimulated in the most.

He’s very vocal and loud during sex. He loves to mutter all these sexy little things in your ear. Anything to rile you up even more. He just wants you to know how good you feel.

From time to time, Baki enjoys you taking charge. Tie him up, strap a vibrator to his cock, edge him until he’s just begging to cum, slap him around a little. Baki can take it and he enjoys it.

If you were to wear any kind of special lingerie or cute little kimonos that leave not much to the imagination, he will lose his mind. Baki adores seeing you all dolled up for him.

[aion-rsa]

The Suicide Squad: Who Lives and Who Dies

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This article contains major The Suicide Squad spoilers. We have a spoiler free review here.

Five years ago, Will Smith uttered the instantly meme-able line, “So that’s it, huh, we’re the patsies, we’re some kind of Suicide Squad.” Yet by the end of that 2016 film, barely anyone in that squad was put six feet under. How times have changed.

For the entire rollout of his pseudo-sequel/reboot, writer-director James Gunn has insisted he had carte blanche to kill off any character in his The Suicide Squad roster. While we may remain skeptical if Margot Robbie’s Harley Quinn and a few others were really that expendable to Warner Bros., Gunn’s finished film speaks to just how much freedom he was allotted in slaughtering potentially valuable DC IP. Major characters from the first film, and a slew of new ones Gunn personally introduced, were pushing up daisies before the movie’s opening title card. And the bodycount only grew from there.

So if you had trouble keeping up with who died, and in what gnarly and grotesque fashion, we’re here to offer a handy dandy list of which members of the Suicide Squad walked away from Corto Maltese, and which were carried away in bags.

Blackguard

Dies

You can’t help but wonder if Gunn intentionally cast Pete Davidson as the first Squad member to get put down. With the exception of a fakeout (more on that in a bit), the mildly divisive SNL alumni goes out in gruesome fashion when he reveals on a Corto Maltese beachhead that he somehow communicated with the local military that a U.S. operation would be landing there. He thinks this will get him in good with the new government. Instead it gets him obliterated by a hail of bullets. All that time in prison and Blackguard never learned what happens to snitches…

Javelin

Dies

Flula Borg’s Javelin cut an amusing figure, as if he wandered in from some low-rent 1970s superhero television series. Even his accent was absurdly disarming, as Harley quickly noticed. Alas, it was not meant to be since Javelin was blasted fast on the beach, barely having a moment to entrust Dr. Quinzel with his trusty weapon.

Mongal

Dies

Let it not go unsaid that Mayling Ng’s Mongal made an epic introduction and exit when she took down several choppers all by herself. Unfortunately, she didn’t really think about a personal strategy as she rode one helicopter all the way down into its fiery ‘splosion.

Captain Boomerang

Dies

The first really major death of the film came when Captain Boomerang, Jai Courtney’s holdover from the 2016 movie, also bit the big one from the same fiery blast that took Mongal. At least he and Harley got to share a few laughs beforehand. We guess this puts an end to any chance of him  showing up in The Flash movie!

T.D.K.

Dies

Okay, as soon as you realized the secret superpower of Nathan Fillion’s character was something as lame as “detachable” limbs, you also knew he was dead meat, right? This character is so lame that Gunn doesn’t even show the Corto Maltese military putting him out of his misery. They just snicker as he writhes in pain, feeling how his detached arms have been shot to ribbons. Bad day to be a Browncoat.

Savant

Dies

Michael Rooker is the actor James Gunn casts when he wants to give a character an epic death scene. It took two movies for that to prove true in the Guardians of the Galaxy movies, but Rooker’s Savant doesn’t even make it to the end of the opening credits here… well not all of him. The blood and brain splatter created by the bomb Amanda Waller detonated in this coward’s skull spells a lovely “The Suicide Squad” lettering across the waves. And hey, at least Rooker got to rock those epic blonde locks!

The Thinker

Dies

Once you heard that Peter Capaldi was playing an evil supervillain who was also in league with the Suicide Squad’s enemies, you knew there was no way Thinker was walking away from this movie, right? Nonetheless, Gunn goes hard with the doc’s death scene when a liberated Starro the Conqueror gets revenge for 30 years of captivity by ripping his captor’s arms off and then turning him into a red smear across glass. Ouch.

Col. Rick Flag

Dies

This one hurt. Joel Kinnaman’s Rick Flag was one of the better and even underrated elements from 2016’s Suicide Squad, and he got a chance to shine a lot brighter here. From small things like his total war buddies vibe with Harley to showing a backbone when he realizes Waller’s nefarious cover-up game, Flag came out as a real leader this time up to bat. Sadly, he then got Cena’d to death.

Polka-Dot Man

Dies

You did it, Polka-Dot Man, you proved your simultaneously dippy and creepy superpowers could make you a real superhero! Even your Norma Bates-like mama would be proud. Too bad Starro then stepped on you immediately afterward. Yay?

Starro

Dies

The big guy had his giant eye poked out by Harley and then an army of rats swarm into the hole that made and chew up his insides. Honestly, you feel bad for the kaiju in the end. Like King Kong, he didn’t ask to be brought here. Who knew we could get the sniffles for a rampaging monster with mind-control powers?

Harley Quinn

Lives

Come on, did you think they’d kill off Harley? Pfft, Robbie’s performance is way too good for that.

Bloodsport

Lives

Given his world-weary stoicism, I thought going in that Idris Elba’s Bloodsport was too noble for Gunn’s twisted vision. How nice it is to be proven wrong. Elba’s supervillain marksman reveals there’s a heart of gold beneath that gruff exterior, and it’s still beating when the credits come around.

Ratcatcher II

Lives

James Gunn once told us that Daniela Melchior’s Ratcatcher was the heart of the movie with a presence “like somebody from the French New Wave.” And he wasn’t blowing smoke about the actor or the character. Despite being introduced as an easygoing millennial, Ratcatcher turns out to be the most sympathetic Squad member and proves her generation gets the job done by unleashing an armada of rats on Starro.

King Shark

Lives

Thank God. Nobody better hurt our precious man-eating Nanaue. Go ahead, King, have another nom-nom. You earned it!

Sol Soria

Lives

Sol Soria gets to be el presidente in Corto Maltese now. I guess that’s a fair enough trade with the knowledge that the people who put her there also fed her buddies head first to a land shark.

Amanda Waller

Lives

Some characters are too evil to die. Amanda Waller is still stewing back in D.C. by the end of The Suicide Squad, and she’s likely scheming of a way to murder all of her current underlings too.

Weasel

Lives

The first fakeout of the movie is the fate of Weasel. Despite seemingly being the first character to seemingly die off—in a really hilarious fashion when Waller and company realize they didn’t check to see if Weasel could swim—it turns out he didn’t drown. There’s another reason right there for why Savant deserved to have his head go boom. Pity the children of Corto Maltese.

Peacemaker

Lives

Even though Peacemaker got an epic death scene where Bloodsport won a quickdraw showdown, some actors are just too big of a deal to kill. Thus the end credits scene reveals that Peacemaker survived his bullet wound to the neck and is still breathing on a hospital ventilator. Nonetheless, Bloodsport taught him a valuable lesson: It’s not the size of your bullets but how you use them.

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The post The Suicide Squad: Who Lives and Who Dies appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[ziraley-j-crow]

Just a Peek!  Arthur Morgan x Reader.

Disclaimer: So, judging on the reaction I got from posting the first chapter(?), I feel more confident to post more! So thank you guys! Keep liking, re-blogging or anything, because it feels good to see that y’all appreciate it!

Also, a huge thank you to @narutoast-yt for helping me with this one! Go check her out, guys! 😁🎉

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female Reader

You had managed to keep yourself busy for the rest of the day. There had been washing done, dirty dishes and cups now cleaned. Basically, you had to do something so that Miss Grimshaw wouldn’t holler at you in front of everyone else. That’s what the girls taught you when you first joined the gang, as you learned the hard way.

The sun was now setting, casting a calming glow over the camp. Everyone was finishing up their jobs, dusting themselves off for the day. Some were heading to grab a drink to sit by the camp fire. You folded your arms, sighing contently as you admired the sunset, the birds getting quieter in the dark trees below. Dutch was playing that awful music on his gramophone. 

“Turn that feckin’ thing off! You’re scarin’ the squirrels!” Sean yells from his spot by the fire, earning a few agreeable laughs from Bill and Lenny. You giggled, silently agreeing. Eventually the music was turned down, and the moment’s silence was filled with the soft sound of a guitar. You turned your attention towards Javier, who was sitting cross-legged by the fire, playing a little tune to himself. Everyone began to hush, waiting to see if he’d play something. You decided to lean on one of the barrels near the fire. 

“How’ve you been keepin’, Miss (Y/L/N)?” Arthur’s voice surprised you suddenly, and you turn to see him on your left, arms crossed. 

He had cleaned up since you last saw him in his tent. He was wearing his dark Union shirt, the sleeves rolled upwards and the buttons undone, barely showing his chest. His hair was swept back, the sides were faded nicely like he always had done.

Still handsome.

The orange glow from the fire softens his gruff features, and you noticed he was waiting for your response. You chuckled nervously, avoiding his face until you composed yourself.

“I’m good! I’m tired but good. How are you feeling? Is your arm alright?” you asked him, and you glanced at his left arm. He was much more taller than you, with a solid build and broad shoulders. He lightly rubbed his wound.

“Nah, it’s fine now. Susan did a fine job on it, and some whiskey helped too.” he said with a smile. 

“She’s good though. I made sure to keep busy in case she pitched a fit.” you finished your sentence quietly, hoping Susan wouldn’t hear. That made Arthur chuckle, and seeing him like this made you feel warm inside. Or was it the camp fire?

Either way, you made him laugh!

You couldn’t help but giggle too, your smile never leaving your face. The two of you stood side by side, not sharing a word. Javier continued playing and some of the gang sang along to the tune. You recognized this song, softly tapping your foot along with it.

“Now I am a prisoner, in the Stillwater jail I lie..” Arthur quietly sang along, his voice so deep it was almost a growl. His voice trailed off, he must have forgotten the words. 

This felt nice. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, with a drink in hand and a song on their lips. The sun was long gone and the moon was taking it’s turn, casting a silver glow on the trees and grass surrounding the camp. You looked up at the dark sky; cloudless, with countless silver stars scattered everywhere. The embers danced up to the sky, joining the stars. You inhaled through your nose, the cold air tickling your nostrils.

“Beautiful.” you hear Arthur say, and you catch him looking right back at you.

“Excuse me?” you ask him, puzzled. His eyes widened and he looked up at the sky.

“I- What I meant was, the sky. The sky is beautiful.” he managed to say sheepishly, avoiding your eyes. You smirked to yourself, trying no to think otherwise. He rubbed his beard with his hand, stopping to scratch below his ear. You noticed he had also trimmed his beard, which you thought complimented his face.

Duly noted.

You realized the music and singing had stopped. Only Hosea and Charles remained sitting around the fire. They were deep in conversation about hunting, Hosea telling him about the giant bear himself and Arthur went after. The others had either walked or stumbled back to their tents. 

“Hey, I know where we can see the sky better.” Arthur nudges your arm lightly, and starts walking away from the fire.

“Oh yeah? Where?” you follow him eagerly. You walk beside him, the grass rustling under your footsteps. He didn’t say anything, but you could see a faint smile on his face as he led you to the spot. The moonlight was spilling through the trees, lighting the way to go, although Arthur seemed to know very well where he was going. 

It was just a stone’s throw from the camp. Arthur slowed to a stop, his hands resting on his belt buckle. When he heard you stopping beside him, he stole a glance at you, and turned away with a smile of approval on his face.

The moon was highlighting the hundreds of trees stretched across the seemingly endless valley. The slow river mirrored the sky above, it, and the ripples glistened with a silver glow. If you looked closely, you could see a handful of soft, orange flecks on the isolated mountains. You wondered what cosy little homes they were. The air was quiet, yet busy - a faint breeze sighed through the pine trees behind you both. A coyote was yapping somewhere below you, an owl was flying across the trees, hunting for prey. Peaceful.

You loved it.

Arthur let out a deep sigh, his breath escaping like smoke. It felt like he wanted to say something. He was thinking.

“I uh.. I wanted to thank you, for earlier..” he began, looking out at the view. Your heart skipped a beat, a nervous chuckle escaping you.

“Thank me? For what? I just did what I was told. Anyone could have done that.” you shrugged it off as it were nothing. 

But it was something. He has no idea how glad you were to help. He has no idea how worried you were about him either. 

“Yeah.. But I wanted to thank you properly. I’ve been shot and injured before and Susan would always get one of the girls to help her. They would do as their told and get on with it. But this time ‘round, was different.” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck. 

You didn’t say anything in response, but you studied him. His yes scanned the quiet valley, searching for what to say next, but it simply stared back at hi in silence. He cleared his throat before continuing, and turned to face you. 

“What I’m trying to say is..” He paused, letting out a quick huff before continuing. His eyes focused on you. “Is that it feels nice to be cared ‘bout, ‘s all..” he almost mumbled the last few words, looking down at the dirt, almost ashamed. 

You felt your heart almost drop at that. He wasn’t the big, scary fella who could kill O’Driscolls in the blink of an eye. He wasn’t the grumpy cowboy who would greet strangers with a grunt. He was just a man, standing under the moonlight, maybe dismantling his tough exterior. 

“Arthur... Arthur, of course you’re cared about. I care about you!” you say, absolutely stunned. You stepped closer to him, gently placing your hand on his arm. He looked back up at you, ‘confusion’ written on his face as he slowly shook his head.

“You shouldn’t, Miss. (Y/L/N). I’m not the type of man you should care for.” he said, a hint of sadness in his voice. It almost sounded like he said it a thousand times before.

You couldn’t stand to hear that. How could he feel this way about himself? Sure, in this way of living, you gotta get your hands dirty and make a living for blood money. But there was worse ways to be living.

“Arthur Morgan, you stop that.” you almost sound like a picky mother scolding her child, and he looks baffled at your tone. You place your hands on your hips, almost on your tip-toes to meet him eye-to-eye.

“Arthur, I’m not gonna let you stand there and tell me you’re not worth caring for, when you’re the most caring person in this gang. I don’t know who has made you feel this way, but I’d love to give them a good clatterin’. Nobody deserves to be cared for and loved more than you. I swear if-”

He just stared at you in awe. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He watched the way your eyebrows knit together, how you expressed words with your hands. He listened to your voice raising and lowering in tone as you spoke. He was just fascinated by you. Fascinated that someone could talk about him like this, in a positive light. That someone had so much to say about him with so much emotion. He couldn’t sheath the emotion that was threatening to spill.

“-and whoever says otherwise is as ugly as a burnt boot.” you finish with a huff. You were so caught up in your fluster, you had trailed a little ways away. You whip around to look at him, a little embarrassed. “..Arthur?”

You gently walked over to him. His head tilted down, so you couldn’t see his eyes. But you heard the unmistakable sound of a sniffle escape him, his hand reaching up to his face. Your eyes widen in panic.

“Arthur, what’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?” you asked in a slight panic. He shook his head, quickly wiping at his eyes. 

“It’s fine, ‘m fine. It’s just that.. Nobody’s every said nothin’ like that ‘bout me before, ‘s all.” he said, his voice trembling. Your heart sank at that. You didn’t know what to do, what was okay to do to make him feel better. He sounded like he had a lot on his mind.

“C’mon.” You walk over to the edge of the cliff, sitting yourself down so your legs were hanging over the verge. You turned to look back at Arthur, patting a space on the ground beside you

“Come sit. Sit and talk to me.” you said gently, and held out your hand for him. He hesitated, but he then walked over, and he took your hand in his. His hand was cold, somewhat rough from years of handling guns and leather. It was much bigger than yours, you felt small holding his hand. But it felt comforting too.

He sat down beside you, quite close as a matter of fact. When he got comfortable, he let out a grand sigh.

“I don’t know what to say..” he said, almost sounding guilty. 

“Take your time, I’m in no rush. Say whatever is on your mind” you reassured him.

At first he seemed unsure on how to begin, but once he was talking, there was no stopping him. The poor guy had kept his thoughts bottled up for so long it seemed. But you listened. You hung on to every word he said. With how much he was sharing, it felt like he was trusting you, which felt good. You even shared some of your life stories with him, showing him that he wasn’t alone.

You didn’t know how long you two were talking, but it must have been for hours. You noticed the sky wasn’t so dark, but more navy with less stars. Behind you, you heard the early birds, waking to catch a meal. The land down below was brighter, a soft mist was sailing through, leaving dew drops on everything it touched.The day was beginning.

“Fuck.. How long have we been talkin’?” Arthur asked after a yawn, rubbing his face awake. He began to get up, dusting off his clothes before holding out his hand for you. You looked up at him and chuckled.

“Just returnin’ the favor!” he said, amused. You took his hand, which he firmly grasped, and helped you up. He’s strong, you thought to yourself.

“Well, thank you kindly!” you said, while doing a mock curtsy, and he shook his head with a smile.

“I should be the one thanking you, ma’am.” he said, his tone a little more serious. He was standing closer now, his gaze fixated entirely on you, and you felt small under his gaze.

“I-It was nothing, really.. I was ju-”

“No, it was something, (Y/N). It meant a lot to me. I have never spoken like that to anyone. Not even to Dutch.” he was serious, his voice lower this time.

“Well, shame on them for not listening. Tonight, I learned how much more.. Phenomenal, you are.” 

Shit! You actually said that out loud! IN FRONT OF HIM.

You covered your mouth in disbelief, caught red handed.

Idiot.

He said nothing, which didn’t seem good. His lip were parted slightly, but he said nothing. You turned away from him, embarrassed by your thoughts. There, you had a perfectly good friendship, and you ruined it, (Y/N).

You suddenly felt his hand on your shoulder, a gentle grasp, guiding you to turn back to him. Your heart was racing now, expecting the worst.

His lips were suddenly on yours, almost hungry to feel yours. He couldn’t help himself, the warmth he felt in his chest was too much right now. You inhale sharply, obviously taken by surprise. Was this happening right now? It suddenly hit you..

The small smiles after you’d say hello to him, or talk about your day. The lingering stares you’d catch from across camp. How he’d say “Hunting is another skill.” as you’d join him on another trip. But you noticed none of the other girls would hunt. When you had asked him before, he just made up some excuse, that they weren’t the type.

‘His type’, more like.

It all made sense. You pulled away from him for a breath, waking him from his trance.

“I-I’m sorry, Miss (Y/L/N)..” he muttered, embarrassed. As he faced away from you, your fingertips caught his chin, turning him back to look at you.

“Don’t call me that, you make me sound like a teacher.” you say playfully, pulling him in for another kiss, which took him by surprise. You felt him smile against your lips, his arms snaking around your waist to pull you closer to him. He began kissing under your ear, which tickled, causing you to gasp.

“Why don’t you teach me a lesson then, ma’am?” he growled, his lips attacking your neck.

FIN

[crawl-out-through-the-callout]

Companion Headcanons - Hugging

What do the companions’ hugs (or equivalent) look like in gif format? This is what my headcanons say:

ADA

ADA might be a robot, but she’s full of as much heart as she is robotic parts. The hug is a little stiff, but you can feel the love.

Cait

Cait isn’t much of a hugger, but when she gets comfortable she’d get to slinging her arm around you and outright carting you off when she feels like it - she’s a strong lady.

Codsworth

Codsworth wouldn't be expecting a hug - unless he sees you're particularly down and asks if you need "physical affection" to make you feel better (and oh man, was that a confusing conversation), but he's certainly willing. Hugging Codsworth is like hugging an octopus. There's a lot of limbs, and you're not entirely sure that it's safe - he does have a flamer and a saw in there somewhere - but octopi (and Codsworth) are super cool, so why wouldn't you hug them? It kind of feels like a lot of hugs at once.

(Synth) Curie

Curie knows that hugs are, medically speaking, great! Emotionally speaking, they're also new and exciting! At first she overthinks it, tries to count to figure out how long holding a hug is socially acceptable, and probably worries about where her hands should go, but soon it's an utter delight and one she's eager to repeat.

Danse

Danse will most certainly catch you in his arms. He's also very good at comforting hugs, which is a surprise to himself despite his history with it (from the Haylen story).

Deacon

Deacon isn't the hugging type. He says that, he leans away, but every once in awhile he seems to forget. Maybe he's been inside his head for too long, realizing how close you've gotten and what happens to the people that get close to him, but he realizes you might not come back and for once, he's the clingy one, not you.

Dogmeat

Dogmeat is a dog. Have you ever hugged a dog? Phenomenal. Let's be honest: Dogmeat is the best hugger on this list.

Hancock

Hancock's hugs vary wildly. Sometimes it devolves into prodding at your sides and neck in an attempt to lighten the mood via ticklishness, sometimes you'll be joking around and laughing and you're suddenly pulled into a serious, tight hug and He doesn't know what he'd do without you, Sunshine.

Longfellow

Longfellow's a tired guy, okay? He's gonna be gruff and grumbly about it. With enough alcohol in him you might get his arm around you. Any sweet moments will be in the deeps of the Far Harbor, where no one can see and realize there's some softness under that grumpy exterior.

Nick Valentine

Somehow every hug with Nick turns into a dramatic scene. It isn't his doing, and it certainly isn't yours, but every moment seems cinematic.

Piper

Piper's hugs always end up having a bit of a rocking motion to them. Maybe it's her nervous energy, maybe it's her excitement, but it's a constant. The only time she didn't rock while hugging you was terrifying; you'd heard rumors that super mutants had finally busted into Diamond City, and she was scared for Nat's life. You put your arms around Piper, but she didn't move. When you pulled away, you didn't find hurt or fear or defeat in her eyes: only fury. When you got back to Diamond City and found the rumors had been just that - rumors - the relief prompted her into a big of a hugging spree. You, Nat, Mayor-No, not him, better just hug you again. The rocking returned.

Porter Gage

Gage has never hugged you in his life - in public, anyway. He just happens to be looking closely over your shoulder. Very closely. With his arms around you. And butt-grabbing totally doesn't count as a hug.

Preston Garvey

Sometimes you need the sad hug. Sometimes Preston does. Whenever either or both of you do, you become one another's rock, their anchor, bringing you back to the world and reminding you both you can move on. He's also pretty good at victory hugs. And loving hugs. Okay, all hugs.

Robert Joseph MacCready

Half of MacCready's hugs are when he's half asleep and realizes, hey, you aren't dead. You get dragged down into a hug or he just latches onto your leg. When he wakes up, he's pretty embarrassed. The rest of his hugs are positibely gleeful: you just won a fight with the coolest shot you've ever made, maybe you beat a mirelurk queen in the rain and looked super cool, or you just got Duncan's medicine. He's happy, you're happy.

Strong

Do you wanna die? This is how you break your spine. Or he's gonna pat you on the head and you're going to go through the earth.

X6-88

Hugs always seem to catch X6 off-guard. They're too awkward for him to initiate, but when you come sprinting at him without a weapon in your hands, he's not really sure what to...Do. No training has prepared him for this. He doesn't mind when you just lean on him, though he doesn't like to say it. Still, you sometimes find him standing closer than usual, not making eye contact, just waiting, and you both know it's an invitation. That might be the most you can get out of him for awhile, but it's a step.

(I haven’t actually traveled with Longfellow or Strong, but I didn’t want to leave them out. Did I forget anyone?)

[writeanapocalae]

Jotober Day 13: Mechanical Limbs Fall Heavy

WARNING: There’s some nudity but it’s just enough for a raised eyebrow. 

He’d been in the middle of a shower when Jensen had called him. It wasn’t even a real call, just the name of a building, the word basement, and he sounded out of breath and wounded and all sorts of things that made Pritchard tense up uncomfortably. When Pritchard had tried to get more information, he just heard an inhale, Jensen’s breath rattling so hard that the info-link buzzed. He heard another voice, gruff and angry, and then silence.

He didn’t even condition his hair. He was rushing out of the shower, into his dirty clothes from the day, grabbing his keys and the stun gun that Jensen had told him he had to have as he thrust it into his hands, and raced down the stairs. He didn’t trust the elevator on the best of days. He plugged in the coordinates on his phone and hooked it into his bike and then was making his way back into the heart of the city, going to a hotel that had been defunct for years. He parked a few blocks away and by the time he’d made it to the front steps, it had already been half an hour.

There were Harvesters at the door. He could tell just by looking at them. They were all packing and the stun gun he’d brought was a toy compared to that heat, even though they were pretending to conceal it. They all looked paranoid and were walking the street and there was no way Pritchard could sneak past there. He wasn’t Jensen, he couldn’t fight people, he wasn’t even good at sneaking. If he relied on his own skills, he’d be shot within five minutes.

He tried to act nonchalant, as the panic ate his stomach like moths at wool. He walked around the side of the building, trying to think of someway that he could get inside. There were more Harvesters here, some of which looked terribly pleased with themselves, but they all looked like they were on a smoke break and a few of them were even drunk, passing around a bottle of whiskey. They weren’t quiet.

They’d found a big hit, a lot of expensive pieces, hard to salvage but worth it. He shivered. They were talking about Jensen, he knew that, but they were talking about him like he was a car, abandoned at a garage and ripe for the picking. They all laughed when they reminisced over how they’d brought him down. Pritchard pulled out a cigarette of his own and stood with a couple of punks at a flaming barrel. They watched him, they knew he wasn’t one of them, but they could see the anxiety in his features, and they let him be. It had been a bad fight and a few of them had been knocked out while their prize ghosted around them. They’d caught on eventually and gone after him, all together, and he’d thrown an EMP grenade at them. Idiot hadn’t thrown it fast enough and he took himself down, even with how they’d shot him.

He grit his teeth, almost biting through the cigarette. A woman, wearing far too little clothing for the weather, sporting a bright red mohawk, put her hand on his shoulder. He shrugged her off, glaring, assuming that she was going to interrupt his thought and hearing with some suggestion that he didn’t want to hear.

Instead she just cocked her head in the special way that was supposed to lead him. He didn’t exactly want to follow her, but he did, taking another turn into another alley. She looked both ways before pointing down at a window, close to the ground. “It’s not the right room but it’s a room,” she whispered, “You’re here for their big hit right? I heard him screaming down there. I guess they couldn’t figure out how to get his arms off.”

He nodded, looking into the room as best he could, seeing an apartment that had been filled with computer systems and security equipment. He might not have been as good at this stuff as Jensen, but security was his specialty, especially with computers.

“Yeah, that bastard called me when I was in the shower. He’s got to pay for interrupting my day off.” He pulled his credit chip out of his pocket. “Can I ask you a favor?”

She looked at his money more than she looked at him. “Distraction?”

He nodded. “How much?” She thought on it a moment. “Four hundred? This isn’t a nice part of town as it is, but I wouldn’t mind it not getting worse.”

He gave her five. “Get yourself a jacket.” He stared down into the room as she rushed around the corner, towards the front of the building. He couldn’t trust her, but he didn’t have time for anything else. There were a couple of Harvesters in there, but none of them were looking towards the window. He could get in there, hide behind the bed that was still in there under some computer towers, and draw them away with some quick work of his fingers. He just needed to get through the window.

It was locked, of course. He kept his ears pricked. He could hear her, in the distance, shouting something, drawing a few of the guards away. But it wasn’t until he heard a loud crash that those inside were responding. It sounded like a car had crashed into the side of the building and the bricks all shook in response. He’d though five hundred was too much but no, he owed her far more than that.

There was shouting coming from inside and the Harvesters, holding machine guns lazily in their own turf, left the room. He held his breath, listening, hearing them rush around and explore. He waited until he couldn’t hear anything from within the apartment. And then he kicked the window in.

It was small. Too small for Jensen to squeeze through, with his muscles and broad shoulders. Pritchard was wiry and narrow, even if he was long, and was able to slide through with only scraping through his leather jacket sleeves and a bit of the skin on his legs, through his cargo pants, catching on the shards.

The distraction outside wouldn’t hold them all, not for too terribly long, so he went to the security section. Hacking it was a breeze and he deposited a great deal of their funds into his own, just as an aside, as he took control. He set the alarms to a timer, they’d go off, in different areas of the building, a few minutes apart. He had to hope that their paranoia was worse than his own, and that they wouldn’t realize that someone was messing with the system after the second one. He still had to find Jensen, after all, and get him out of there.

He changed all of the passwords on the computers in there and went out into the hall. There was no one out there but he could hear speaking from the other side of the opposite wall. He went for the nearest door, peaking in before flattening himself, becoming as invisible as he could. He didn’t know how to fight. He didn’t know how to do anything. Jensen wasn’t too hard to find though.

The apartments had been knocked down, just the supports and exterior walls remaining. The new room was a massive workshop, with electronics everywhere. There were multiple dental chairs that had been dragged in, and the bathtubs had been left in place as well. There were tables everywhere, covered in tools, and there was a large man working at one of the chairs, chatting away as if his patient was an old friend. There were two large shapes on one of the work tables next to him. Pritchard couldn’t tell what they were from this distance, but they were shiny and black and part of Jensen.

He bit his lip, drawing the stun gun. It was short range, almost melee. He’d have to be silent.

He took a few steps into the room, watching his feet and the man’s back. He shifted to the side, just enough to see Jensen in the chair. He was swallowing hard, licking his lips, and his lenses were up over his eyes. He was shaking and sweating. He looked like he was trying to hide how much pain he was in, but it wasn’t working at all. Francis toed over faster.

Jensen made a noise in his throat, this horrible whine that sounded like desperation and agony.

“I know,” the mechanic cooed and his hand went up, tracing over the lines in Jensen’s forehead and Pritchard was raising the gun. “I know, it hurts. I can’t give you another shot now though, can’t lose you this early. There’s still so much we can take from you.” the man almost sounded like he cared. Jensen just shook his head, being pitiful.

He was being a distraction.

Pritchard drew close and fired, seeing the man stiffen as the voltage ran through him. He fell limp in his own chair when Pritchard let go of the trigger and he was able to see everything.

“Jensen!” he shoved forward, cradling the man’s head in his hands.

The lenses slid back into the grooves in his face, hidden along his temples and he laughed a wet, painful sound. “Took you long enough.”

“Come now, listen to all that drama? I had to come up with the best way to make an entrance.”

Jensen made that sound again but didn’t move. It took too long for Pritchard to realize that it was because his arms were bolted down, literally, with large bolts between his fingers and around his wrists, to pin him. Pritchard had to pull them away with a wrench, and then Jensen’s hands were on his gut, his flesh gut, feeling the quick and not exactly proper medical work that had been done to him. There was gauze and what looked like stitches underneath, but he was bleeding through all of it.

“Home?” he almost whispered.

Pritchard nodded, before looking down, only now realizing that Jensen was missing a few things. Some of the bolts in his chest were missing, which meant his self healing wasn’t working. His clothes were all gone and that wasn’t something that Pritchard had been expecting at all but that wasn’t the worst of it.

“You can take a good look later Francis,” there was a hint of teasing among the pain and the push to go.

He looked over at the table, the large shapes that still sat there. “As much as I’m sure you need a boost for your ego, that’s not what I was staring at. Jensen, your legs are off.”

“Oh yeah,” he murmured, sounding like he was close to passing out. “Yeah, he took them off. Guess you’re on your own from here, huh?”

“You couldn’t have picked a worse time to be completely useless, Jensen.” he groaned, stealing the mechanic’s jacket to wrap Jensen’s body in. They didn’t have time for him to try to fix this. He pulled Jensen up and he wrapped those cold arms around Pritchard’s chest.

“Shit, you’re heavy.”

“You say that,” Jensen muttered, sounding even closer to sleep as he rested his head on Pritchard’s shoulder, “but I feel like I’ve lost a lot of weight.”

@anhathaway @ill-write-when-im-dead@stargeek727@crazybunchwriter@detectivesebcas

[megsironthrone]

To Break the Spell

Anonymous asked: Have you do e a Beauty and the Beast AU with Sandor before? If so could you link me, and if not, could I request one? You’re the best!

I do not own Sandor. He belongs to George R.R.Martin.

Warnings: Awkwardness, some fluff, Modern-ish Beauty and the Beast AU

Pairings: Sandor Clegane x reader

“Sir? The new maid is here,” a voice pulled Sandor out of his thoughts. The man grumbled, indicating that he’d heard. He hadn’t wanted any of this. When his brother died, Sandor hadn’t expected the family estate to be passed down to him. So, when it had, Sandor locked himself in, never leaving and avoiding everyone. In fact, he remained hidden from the world so long, people began to gossip. They all said Sandor and the entire household was under some kind of spell. A curse.

              A moment later, another voice cut through the dark room. “Mr. Clegane?” the voice was soft, but not frightened. Sandor got up. “Close the door,” he rasped out and heard it shut quickly. Sandor reveled in the  near darkness. No one could see him in the dark. They couldn’t see the monster he really was. The last thing he needed right now was to lose yet another maid. “Come over here, girl,” he ordered.

              Soft, light footsteps made their way to the desk. Sandor turned so he could see you, but you couldn’t see the right side of his face. “Have ya ever been a maid before?” You nodded. “Of course. I’m not afraid of a little hard work.” Sandor huffed. “Hard work? I doubt ya know the meaning of the words.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Mr. Clegane, I wasn’t hired to stand here and be insulted. Did you need me for something or may I get to the work I was hired to do?”

              Sandor wanted to laugh. You had spirit. “I need ya to know how sure ya are about this job.” You cocked your head to the side in confusion. and Sandor sighed. “I know you’ve heard the rumors in town about me.” You shrugged. “I have. They say you’re something of a monster. A hermit who never lets anyone in. Each rumor is more and elaborate. They even say you’re cursed,” you told him honestly and Sandor scoffed. “But, I’ve never put much stock in rumors.”

              In surprise, Sandor turned fully toward you. The only indication that you even noticed the scarred side of his face was the slight jump you gave. Your eyes scanned his face for a brief moment before looking into his eyes again. “Is that all, Mr. Clegane?” Sandor nodded and you scurried from the room.

*time skip*

              Like all the new maids, you were the one who ended up drawing the short straw. The butler had assigned you to be Sandor’s personal maid, meaning, you brought him meals and anything else he asked for. You were also in charge of making his bed and tidying his room every day. The one room you weren’t allowed in was the room next to his. He never told you why, but one day you got curious.

              After cleaning Sandor’s room, you noticed that the adjoining door was slightly open. Your curiosity got the better of you. You carefully entered the room, making sure to pull the door closed again. You turned around and gasped in shock. All you saw everywhere were broken mirrors. Shards of glass. You knew that Sandor hated his appearance, but you had no idea how much until now. The sight broke your heart.  

              You turned and slipped out of the room, only to be confronted by an angry-looking Sandor. “M-Mr. Clegane!” The expression “if looks could kill” popped into your mind. If that were true, you’d be dead ten times over. “Get out,” he growled. You didn’t waste a moment. You darted from the room and down to your own. You leaned against your door and willed your heart to stop pounding.

              You stayed in your room for hours, not caring that your chores for the day weren’t getting done. You knew if Sandor saw you, you’d be fired or, if the rumors were to be believed, worse. Unfortunately, you wouldn’t have a choice.

              “Y/N, the master wants you. Now.“ You got up on shaking legs and made your way to the door. You opened it to see the butler glaring down at you. "I don’t know what you did, but the master is demanding your presence right now.” You gulped and nodded. You knew you were in for it. “He says to bring the first aid kit.” Your eyes widened. Just what was the man planning on doing to you?

              Your heart felt like it was going to explode in your chest as you approached Sandor’s study. In your whole life, you’d never felt as much fear as you did now. Every possible scenario flashed through your mind as you walked. Would he hurt you? Yell at you? Kill you? You shook your head at your over-active imagination. With a shaky hand, you reached up and knocked on the study door.

              "Get in here, Y/N,“ your employer’s voice called out in its usual raspy tone. You slowly opened the door. Sandor was sitting in the chair behind the desk, staring out the window. "Y-Y-Y,” you stuttered before clearing your throat and trying again, “You sent for me, Mr. Clegane?”

              "Over here.“ You walked over to the desk in the unusually brightly lit room. When you got closer to him, you saw that he had a cloth wrapped around his hand. It was soaked in blood. Setting the first aid kit down on the desk, you gently took his hand in yours and began to unwrap it.

              Sandor watched as your eyes widened at the sight of his bloodied fist. "W-What did you do?” you asked him, briefly looking up into his eyes. He was almost taken back by the kindness in them. He was certain you would look at him in fear for the rest of your time working there after what had happened. He watched, unflinching, when you grabbed tweezers and began plucking pieces of glass from his injuries.

              "I’m sorry,“ you whispered, "I didn’t mean to pry. I was just curious.” Sandor grunted and then hissed when you poured the alcohol on it. He swore out loud and tried to jerk his hand away. “Stop being such a big baby,” you grumbled, tightening your hold on his hand. “This is your fault,” he muttered, but you heard him anyway. “My fault? Your temper is not my fault, Mr. Clegane.”

              Sandor opened his mouth to argue, but stopped. It was true. His temper was not your fault. It had been that way his whole life, long before you showed up. In fact, everything you’d done thus far, until that morning, had helped to soothe the savage beast that was Sandor Clegane’s temper.

              You finished you chore and stood up. “If that’s all, I’ll leave now.” Sandor’s brows furrowed. “If you haven’t decided to fire me, then I have to help prepare dinner.” Sandor nodded. “Fine. Set an extra place.” With a nod of acknowledgment, you gathered up the first aid supplies and left the room. You shuffled from the room, leaving Sandor to groan.

              No one ever thought Sandor would fall in love. And no one believed that anyone would fall in love with him. He was one for two, now. He was in love. Admitting it out loud wasn’t an option, but he knew. You made him feel things that no one had ever made him feel before.

              You had refused to be afraid of him, even during his shows of temper and you didn’t hesitate to tell him when he was wrong. It didn’t matter that he was your employer. If you thought he was wrong, you told him so. He appreciated it, to be honest. It helped keep him on track. However, he knew there was no way you could love him. Not unless he put in some effort.

              You brought dinner into the large dining room, where Sandor sat alone. You set served his dinner and started to return to the kitchen. “Stay.” You stopped and stared at him. “I beg your pardon?” He looked up at you. “Stay…please.” Confused, you glanced at the second place setting. “Was that for me?” you asked and he nodded. “Why?” Sandor groaned. “Would ya please just do it?” You felt a tug at your heartstrings at his awkwardness, so you did as he asked.

              For several minutes, the only sounds in the room were the sounds of silverware hitting dishes. “Why, Mr. Clegane?” you asked again, unable to take the awkward silence anymore. He looked at you. “I wanted ta thank ya for everythin’ you’ve done.” You shrugged. “it’s my job.” He shook his head. “No it isn’t. Your job is ta clean up around here. Not ta deal with my temper and clean up my hands. It’s not your job ta listen ta me yell about nothin’ or ta keep me from gettin’ inta fights.”

              You couldn’t respond at first. Then, you surprised Sandor by saying, “It’s what you do for people you care about.” Sandor blinked in shock. You actually cared about him. Or you said you did. “I’m going to go back to the kitchen. Thank you for allowing me to have dinner with you.” With that, you stood and left the room quickly. You couldn’t believe how you just embarrassed yourself. You’d admitted to caring for your employer as more than an employee.

              And you did. Over the months you had been there, you had grown close to the gruff, grouchy man. While you had gone about your daily chores, you saw the different sides of Sandor. There was a side of him that was truly a caring and compassionate man and it made you fall for him. And after that, you began to see that his tough exterior was  hiding pain. It just made you love him more. Of course, he could never love you. You were the help.

              You entered the kitchen, not knowing that Sandor had followed you. “Ya care about me?” You jumped and yelped. You turned to see him towering over you. “Do ya?” You nodded. “Yes. How could I not?” Sandor suddenly had your face in his hands and you felt your face flush.  "Why?“ You met his gaze and sighed. "I’m not exactly the lovable type, girl.” You snorted.

              "You aren’t exactly unlovable, either. You may look scary and act all tough, but underneath, you are a kindhearted man. You have hidden passions that no one knows about. That’s why.“ Without warning, Sandor’s lips descended on yours. You did a little happy dance in your head for the fact that Sandor was a man of action. Sandor worried when you didn’t immediately kiss back and began to pull away.

              You realized he was pulling back and your brain finally kicked in. Your arm shot out to wrap around his neck to keep him close. Sandor sighed into the kiss and moved his hands down to your hips. With you there in his arms, Sandor felt complete. He felt like he didn’t have to hide anymore. And, just like that, the spell was broken.

@silverwingedfox @line-viper @etherealpotter