#bodyguard!james x reader

[moonstruckme]

In a week-

I saw you did royal Bodyguard poly!marauders to sunshine!reader, ans I was wondering if we could get something like that but instead reader is a little sneakt bitch who uses escaping her bodyguards as a fun pastime?????

Thanks for requesting!!

join the party

bodyguard!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 979 words

You’re about to take a sip from your cup when your wrist is gripped by a strong hand, stopping it from reaching your mouth. 

“You have no idea what’s in there.” 

“Hi, Jamie,” you shoot him a smile, warm and loose all over from the drinks you’ve already had. “Sure I do. It’s a rum and coke. Pretty straightforward, actually.” 

“He means,” Remus says, prying your fingers from around the cup and setting it on the bar, “that you probably weren’t watching to see if anyone slipped something into it, and unfortunately for you, we weren’t here to do it for you.” 

You don’t have to look around to know Sirius will be here as well, your three bodyguards relentless and nearly impossible to shake. Still, you’re a bit proud you’d managed to get free for a little over an hour tonight. That’s not an easy task. 

“No one here is going to drug me,” you say, though you know that’s not strictly true, and you go on before one of them can contradict you. “How’d you find me anyway?” 

James gives you a deadpan look, the closest thing you ever get to anger from him. “If we told you, you’d just figure out how to get around it next time.” He sets a hand on your shoulder, pushing you gently away from the bar. “Come on, let’s go home.” 

“I don’t want to go home,” you say, and despite your best intentions, your voice comes out with a petulant edge. “Why can’t we stay here?”

“You know very well you’re allowed to go out,” Remus says as he and James steer you towards the exit. “But we haven’t had time to look around this place, and you’re supposed to be studying at Kate’s.” 

“So this is a punishment.” It’s not a question, but Sirius answers you anyway, draping an arm around your shoulders as you meet him by the door. 

“Yes, it is,” he says lightly. “You almost killed Remus tonight, doll, and attempted murder deserves a time-out at the very least.” 

Even whilst scolding you, Sirius’ voice is teasing. Between the three of them, you know he’s the least upset with you. He might be a bit frustrated, sure, but he seems to also harbor a tiny bit of respect or understanding for what he calls your ill-timed rebellious phase. Though to be fair, you’d never had much cause for rebellion before your mom had forced a security detail upon you. You were used to doing whatever you wanted, and what you wanted had never seemed so wild until one day you needed permission to go outside and your privacy was blown to smithereens. 

You step out into the cool night air, and Sirius rubs your upper arm when you shiver. Remus leads you all towards the parking lot, and you’re secretly glad to be able to get into a warm car even if you’re still stubbornly yearning for the mundanity of the bus. 

“I know you think of running off as trying to get back some sort of freedom,” James says, and his voice is gentler now if not quite friendly, “but it’s not going to feel like freedom if while you’re off by yourself one of your mom’s…critics,” he decides, using the most delicate term possible, “takes the opportunity to kidnap you.” 

“Or kill you.” Remus says gruffly, his posture extra-stiff as he scans the parking lot, eyes skimming over every dark corner and potentially occupied vehicle. 

“Their issue is with her, not me,” you sigh, somewhere between frustrated and resigned. “You should be protecting her.” 

“She’s got her own detail,” Remus reminds you. “And it wouldn’t be the first time extremists have targeted a politician’s family to get at them.” 

You’re silent at that, and the boys let you stew in it, the memory of your mother’s face when she’s gotten the news that her coworker’s son had been killed in their home. She’d grieved for her friend that day, but her panic had been for herself. For you. 

“We’ve got to find a way around this need to escape, angel,” James says, opening the door to the backseat and offering you a hand in. You nod hello to Marcus, your mom’s driver, whose duties have apparently been extended to picking you up when you go “missing” for an hour or two. Sirius gets in on your other side, Remus taking the passenger seat. “Are we really so awful to be around?”

“No,” you say, though you know the question was meant in jest. They deserve to know anyway. “You guys are great. It’s your job that’s the problem.” 

“Unfortunately, it’s still our job,” Remus says, turning around to fix you with a look. It works, and you shrink in your seat. Remus is such a kind, gentle soul, especially considering his profession, so when he focuses his disapproval like this, it always leaves you feeling thoroughly shamed. “Every time you slip off, we have to act as if you’ve been kidnapped, even if we know better. And you very well could be kidnapped. You just—” He shakes his head, and guilt sprouts, winding and thorny, in your gut. “—I don’t think you understand the danger you’re putting yourself in when you do this.”

You nod, forcing yourself to look him in the eye so he knows you’re really listening. “I’m sorry. I’ll…” you sigh, indignation eating at you even as you give in. “I’ll try to work with you guys more.”

“That’s all we’re asking, sweetheart,” James says, bumping your shoulder with his lightly, and you know you’re at least mostly forgiven. 

“For tonight,” Sirius drawls, “are you going to actually stay in your room, or is one of us going to have to tie you to the bed?” He winks. “Because if you need me to, I can totally do that, dollface.”

[daenysx]

hii, rockstar!reader here, i just love the way you wrote them!!! can i request more pretty please? maybe reader is too sick to perform and has to postpone a show she was really looking foward to? and james tries to cheer her up?

thank you for requesting, i hope you like this one too!! (if you wanna check the first fic i wrote for bodyguard!james x rockstar!reader, it's here, but this is not really a second part so you can read them separately)

bodyguard!james potter x rockstar!reader ♡

"james, i have to."

"tell me your reasons without coughing and i will accept, sweetheart."

this is the third time you try to leave your bed. james disagrees, you act like you can run to the stage and sing your songs like you always do, but well- you can't. you can't even form two sentences without your throat bothering you, endless coughs and teardrops complete the sickness trio.

you are sad, your body hurts and not being on the same side with james doesn't help. you put your head back to your pillow, your eyes are begging to be closed. it's so hard, being betrayed by your own body when you have somewhere else to be.

james stands next to your bed, he has his usual attire. he bends down, reaches the same level as your face. you look at him with sad eyes, hoping he'll do something. he takes your hand in his hand, gives your fingers a comforting squeeze.

"i'm really sorry." james says. "i know how much you wanted to play here."

you can't help a tear rolling down on your cheek. it makes your breathing even harder, you sit up to get some air in your lungs. james is on his knees next to your bed, he wanders a soft hand on your back.

"please, don't cry." he says, he sounds really really upset. "you'll make yourself worse, calm down, angel."

"i hate being sick." you say. he gives you a smile that says he knows. he's your bodyguard, he is always ready to protect you. it's difficult for him to see you unwell when he can't do anything about it.

"okay." james starts, voice determined. he rubs a gentle thumb on your tears to dry them. you are focused on his touch and for a moment you forget what you are doing. "we both should be calm if we want you better as soon as possible."

you nod. he's helping, you should do your part. you can't lift your body from bed but you can at least show him you care about his words.

"you need to eat something before taking your medications." he says as he helps you lie down. "anything you want? we can order soup."

he walks through the room to get the meds doctor gave you. he is moving quickly, thinking quickly like it's an operation for saving you from bad guys. he brings you a clean, thin tank top to change into, you manage to wear it without making it hard for james. he opens the window only for a few minutes to get you some fresh air, fixes your sheets without moving you too much. in these 5 minutes after he offers you food, he fixes the entire room for you without even trying too hard.

when he finally finishes the little things on the list he has on his mind, he finally comes next to you. you motion for him to sit, sadness lingers in your eyes but you do feel better. "thank you, james." you say quietly. "you don't have to-"

"come on, sweetheart." he cuts your sentence with a small smile. "you know i'm not doing all of these only because i'm your bodyguard."

you nod, he holds your hand. he looks at you like you're gonna break, like you are someone precious. he pushes your hair back with his free hand, you can see his gentle eyes through his glasses.

"my voice is terrible." you say, just to change the topic. "it doesn't even feel like my voice."

"there's no way i'd ever think your voice is terrible. you'll be better soon, i promise." he says, he means every word. "you'll have a show here one day."

you try to stay strong. you can handle it. if james says you'll be better, then you have to believe him. you give his fingers a weak squeeze. "so you think my voice is cool?" you ask, james relaxes finally when he hears the teasing tone.

"you now have the deep, scratchy voice of a rockstar, angel. you can give me a little concert after you finish your soup, if you want."

you nod, your mind is too tired and foggy from sickness. james tells you a few soup options after that, and you go with your usual choice. he orders it for you, gives you a cool glass of water when you wait for the food.

your throat finally feels a bit better, you realize it when you wake up from the nap you took after your soup and medications. you can at least swallow without hurting. james is fast asleep on the chair he carried next to your bed, his hand still holds yours. you don't move to let him sleep more, it's uncomfortable for him but he once told you he can sleep at anywhere in any position so you trust his word.

you try to go back to sleep, looking at your hero. you can't help but stroking the back of his hand with you thumb. "do you feel better?" james whispers, already awake but still in his sleeping position.

"yes." you whisper back. "you can sleep next to me if you want. i promise i won't cough on you."

he moves under the darkness of your room. he got rid of his jacket hours ago and he quickly settles down on your bed after he puts his glasses on your nightstand. he's more brave when it's dark, you realize. you like this new progress.

he pulls you to his arms, his chest becomes your new pillow. he holds you closer, until your breathing goes normal. "you can cough anytime you want, angel. i have a good immune system."

you smile against his chest. it's the best sleep you had in weeks when you finally close your eyes.

[buckyalpine]

A thot. A smutty, slutty, scandalous thot. With Bodyguard Bucky. Possessiveness, size kink, breeding kink, all of it. Now, imagine being the sweet, quiet, beautiful wife of the esteemed John Walker, CEO of Walker Industries. You sit at his table, clapping with the proudest smile on your face as he accepts an award for another successful year. Your husband dedicates all his success to the beautiful woman who has supported him through all the ups and downs, who has been by his side through it all.

You.

You blow a shy kiss in his direction when the cameras pan over to you, giggling at the wink he throws back. The press will have a field day about the most envied couple in the world, so perfect and so in love. As the night nears its end, your husband gives your hand a squeeze from where he sits beside you, leaning over to whisper in your ear.

"Going to have to stop by office darling, one our major investors just called" He kisses your cheek affectionately with an apologetic look on his face but the understanding smile you give him back lets him know you're not the least bit upset.

"Of course, I'll miss you" You reply and take a sip from your champagne, appearing oblivious to the glances that are thrown your way by the others as your husband leaves without you, his secretary following closely behind him.

All the hushed whispers.

Poor woman has no idea.

All the secrets.

Just a pretty thing on his arm, probably doesn't have a clue.

Doesn't have a clue her husband has been carrying on with his secretary late into the nights and all through out his business trips.

Such a shame she's none the wiser. Has no one thought to tell her? Pity she's genuinely so in love with him.

Truly such a shame, wasn't it?

Such a shame your husband had no idea your bodyguard fucked your brains out till he busted balls deep in side you every chance he got.

Bucky doesn't say a word as he leads you out of the venue, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist, helping you into the car. As soon as he slipped in beside you, you rolled up the dark partition before slinking onto his lap and slamming your lips against his. Bucky groaned against your lips, his hands finding their way home to grope and spank your ass, guiding your hips to grind down on his erection straining against his black pants.

"Need me to take care of you, huh princess" He murmured against the shell of your ear before going back to lacing his tongue with yours causing a shiver to run down your spine, nipping his pouty lip and grasping onto the lapels of his blazer.

No time was wasted as you straightened yourself out upon entering your home, quickly dismissing the staff to leave for the night, giving you free reign to do as you pleased.

As soon as the house was empty, he tossed you over his shoulder, striding up the stairs and straight to the master bedroom. He dropped you onto your large bed, tearing your dress in half down the middle, letting the material fall away at your feet.

"Fuck this" He grabbed your left hand, tugging off the wedding band you wore for appearances and tossing it carelessly across the room. He took off the silver tog tags that hung around his neck, slipping them over your head and letting his name sit perfectly between your breasts, the sight making him feral.

"Didn't even bother with panties" Bucky licked his lips at the sight of your bare naked body, not even a tiny sliver of lace covering your modesty. "You knew, didn't you"

"Always" You purred, knowing damn well your husband would fuck off to bang his desperate little secretary, unknowingly also giving you the night of your life you so badly craved. You crawled to the middle of the bed, your legs spread while Bucky tossed his blazer and shirt off, his pants and brief's quick to follow.

"Lookit you baby, so naughty, fuckin' your bodyguard in the same bed your husband sleeps in"

You let out a needy whimper while he stayed at the edge of the bed enjoying the view, his hand coming down to wrap around his cock giving himself long, languid strokes.

"James, please" you pleaded with a pout but Bucky just smirked in return, hissing as he swiped his thumb over the wet slit of his cockhead.

"I know prinţesă, I know, let me look at how pretty you are" He cooed, joining you on the bed and slotting himself between your legs. You wrapped your arms around his thick shoulders while he let his cock slip between your folds, rolling his hips to hump against your bare cunt. "You're soaked angel, been waiting for this, hm?"

"Wanted you so bad, need you James" Your hips bucked up, chasing the feeling of his fat cock rubbing against you, his swollen cockhead bumping your clit every time he pushed forward. "No teasing, please, missed your cock so bad"

"Shhh, you have me baby, m'right here, yeah?" Bucky kissed away the tears that started to slip down your cheeks, your arousal smearing all over his balls. He guided his dripping cockhead to press against your clit making you cry out, circling his most sensitive parts against yours, "M'right here, feel that angel? Y'feel how wet m'getting for you baby, right on that pretty clit, such a good girl letting me jus' leak all over her slutty little pussy, fuck theres so much precum 'nd m'not even inside you yet"

You'd never felt more empty, clawing at Bucky's back, your pussy fluttering and clenching over the way his silky tip kept tracing circles around your throbbing, sensitive bud. He flicked his cockhead across your clit a few times before lining himself up with your entrance.

"S'fuckin' tight, sh-shit" Bucky moaned as he started to press into you, sliding all the way home in one swift motion. He stayed still, holding your body close to his while your legs wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, begging for him to do something.

"Move Jamie, please, c'mon, fuck me damn it, I need you, I need- FUCCKK" Your words slurred into sobs as Bucky started to fuck you hard and fast, already too needy with having to get a night alone with you.

"Needed me huh angel? fuckin' needed you too, s'all I think about pretty girl, just me n' you, how-oh fuck- how are you so tight around my cock" Bucky rambled, bringing his knee up to get a deeper angle, his hands coming to lace with yours, pinning you against the mattress.

"Missed-fuck-missed you Jamie" You whimpered, your pussy squeezing and sucking his cock back in,

"My baby loves her fat cock, I know, know you're so empty when I can't fill you up sweet girl, you love your bodyguard's big dick don't you" The taunt in his voice only got you off more, your eyes rolling back as he continued to rail you. "You're pussy's choking me so tight, don't think I can hold back tonight princess, don't think I'll be able to pull out"

"Don't" you whispered and something in the air switched, the highly charged sexual tension replaced with something more desperate and needy as you clung onto each other reading closer and closer to your highs.

"Mmph, y'can't say that, gonna wet your bed with my cum prinţesă, you'd like that wouldn't you, my cum covering all your sheets, your pillows smelling like me, letting me fill you up till your belly gets all swollen"

Bucky's voice melted into a whine, his dominance faltering into something needier, quickly shoving the thought away because he knew there was no chance. It would never happen. You'd never be so careless for such an accident to happen.

"Want it Jamie, want it all with you, please, don't-fuck, oh God-don't pull out" Your glassy eyes wet with tears showed no signs of deception but it couldn't be. He searched your gaze and you could see the innocence in his face wishing this were real, the way his body moved with yours, wishing it was just you and him. "St-stopped taking birth control"

Bucky sobbed at your confession, fucking you harder, making the headboard slam against the wall with his powerful thrusts. His hips snapped , shoving his cock all the way into your pussy, his balls growing heavier at the thought of leaving a piece of him inside of your fertile womb.

"you're fuckin' mine, you hear me? Mine. Mine. Mine. Say it!" Bucky grunted, biting your neck making you scream, your back arching off the bed, pressing your chest further against his.

"M'yours, all yours, just' yours" You slurred out, eyes rolling back and your moans turning nearly silent as immense pleasure crept down your spine.

"Gonna put my baby in you, make you mine forever, fuck your husband, your gonna be the mother of my child, just you prinţesă, all you, ALL YOU" Bucky roared against your neck as he shot ropes of his cum deep in your pussy, giving you harsh, sloppy thrusts as he grew more sensitive. He wrapped his arms around your body with his face tucked into your neck, shuddering at the feeling of your soft hands caressing his back, running your fingers through his soft cropped locks.

You hardly noticed him carrying you over to his room down the hall, tucking you into the warm sheets, resting your head on his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I love you" You murmured, smiling at the empty space on your ring finger and feeling the comforting coolness of his chain around your neck.

One day.

"I love you more, prinţesă" Bucky murmured, meaning every word as you both drifted off to sleep.

You couldn't wait to leave your husband.

a/n: This was meant to be way sluttier and less in the feels so might need to revisit this with a different version

[urdepressedslut]

You’re Mine, Sunshine

♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky gets picked by a very rich and respected man to be his daughter’s personal bodyguard. The Father warns him that it won’t be an easy job, that she is a brat and difficult to deal with. But what happens when Bucky meets you and you’re the complete opposite?

♡ Warnings: mentions of amputation, light angst, hints to violence, mentions of death, bucky being a grumpy man

Part 2

Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!AU Bodyguard!AU

“Mr. Barnes, your résumé so far is quite impressive.” Pierce acknowledged with a slow nod.

Bucky of course had a trained eye, but the glares that were not so subtly sent his way by the big boss— were intimidating. He wasn’t scared, no. He simply respected this man’s power. Bucky knew better than to get on the bad side of someone like Pierce.

“Says here you’re an amputee?” Pierce asked so bluntly, and he noticed Bucky’s eyes squint slightly. “Sorry, if I’m overstepping but nothing will be overlooked.”

“It’s not a problem, sir.” Bucky assured him. “Yes, I lost my left arm during a mission way back.”

Pierce furrowed his brows.

“Mission? I take it you used to be an agent of some sort.” He assumed.

Bucky nodded.

“Hm, very good. Continue.” He waved him on.

“I had some surgical procedures— and now I have a prosthetic.”

Bucky lifted his left arm, rolling his sleeve slightly up to expose the metal to the boss. Pierce hummed impressively, taking in the intricate designs on the metal.

“I can assure you that me having a prosthetic will not be an issue— my arm is made out of only the strongest metal. Bullet proof, in fact.” He added, hoping it would further impress the boss, proving just how perfect for the job he was.

It wasn’t his dream to be a bodyguard, actually it was quite a low in his career— if you asked him. He had fallen out of his previous steady job, due to some complications. He had the experience of being a bodyguard— just not for only one person. It would be a weird change for him, but he was willing to take on the challenge. Also, the pay was nice.

Pierce hummed again, the information that his prosthetic arm was bullet proof— only satisfying him more.

“Like I said, impressive Mr. Barnes. But this is an extremely important task. My only daughter, who must be protected at all costs.” Pierce trailed off, expression growing serious. “It’s been a hard adjustment since the passing of my wife, my daughter is all I have left.”

Bucky nodded in understanding, knowing what it was like to lose loved ones. In fact, that wound was still fresh on him.

“If I allow you to take on this role, you are to swear to yourself that you will do whatever it takes to keep her alive— no matter what.” Pierce spoke loudly, his voice orotund.

Bucky in the back of his mind thought about his choice of words. ‘If I allow you.’ Bucky respected this man, but he had to hold back the scoff that threatened to escape his lips at his statement.

“Do you think you’re ready for that?” Pierce challenged, and suddenly it wasn’t about his daughter at all. It was a man challenging another man, a task that he deemed impossible.

His metal hand behind his back whirred in annoyance. After all that fluffing his head up, complimenting his training. It was clear Pierce thought so little of him, and at that— it made Bucky wanna take the job even more. Just to prove him wrong.

“Yes sir.” Bucky promised, shaking Pierces hand in a firm— slightly aggressive shake.

Pierce smiled, dropping Bucky’s résumé on his desk. Getting himself comfortable, he sat on the edge of the front of the desk, crossing his arms.

“Now, let’s go through what is to be expected.” He started, Bucky nodded for him to continue. “You are to be with her at all times, except for when you sleep. You do sleep right?”

Bucky let the scoff escape this time, but it wasn’t as aggressive as he wanted it to be.

“I’ve got a metal arm, but I’m still human sir.”

Pierce chuckled to himself, and Bucky wanted to roll his eyes. This man thinks he’s so funny.

“Right. You must never let her leave your sight, if she wants to see her friends— you’ll be seeing them with her. Not that it’s going to be an issue, I don’t think she has many friends… or any.” The boss shrugged, seemingly unconcerned about his daughter.

Bucky nodded, taking everything in.

“You are going to be staying with her in the safe house… well— she thinks it’s just a house but the area is guarded with my men.” He shrugged again. “I’m a successful man and with that comes enemies, people who look for my weaknesses. You know that.”

Bucky gave a tight lipped smile, Pierce so far sounding like a father of the year.

“Now, about my daughter. Her name is (Y/n) (Y/L/n), and she is a handful.” Pierce stated frustratedly. “She’s rude, ungrateful, nasty— and just overall extremely difficult.”

Bucky furrowed his brows, rethinking his decision to be a bodyguard for this girl. Fucking lovely.

“You can now understand why I’m paying you the offered amount. It’s only fair to you, Mr. Barnes. Truthfully, I can’t deal with her anymore. I love her, and she’s my daughter but… It just doesn’t work out with me. I’m a busy man— I don’t have time for brats.” Pierce spat, straightening up and heading back around his desk.

Bucky had already been creating this mental image of you, so far you sounded like a witch. He was not at all ready to be dealing with you 24/7.

“Doesn’t sound like a problem boss, I’m happy to be protecting your daughter. Nobody will lay a hair on her head, I swear on my life.” Bucky promised again, bowing his head slightly.

“Oh I know. If anything happens to her and I find out you were slacking even by an inch… well you’re a smart man, I’m sure you can figure it out.” Pierce warned, and Bucky swallowed at the mere intimidation that laced his voice.

But he would not back down to this challenge, which is how he saw this— not a job.

“That will be all Mr. Barnes, (Y/n) is around here somewhere. Find her and take her home.” He told Bucky, putting on his glasses— focusing on his paperwork.

“Yes sir.”

Bucky nodded and turned to exit the room. He was so confused with the interaction. You’d think someone who hires a bodyguard for their daughter would know where their daughter is. The way he spoke about you was off putting. Bucky didn’t even know you, but it felt wrong to hear someone talk so little about you. What did he know anyway— apparently you were a monster.

He made his way through the building with a swift walk, needing to fulfill his duties and find you quickly. He was on the third floor, about to hit the button to the elevator when he saw a young lady. Despite him wanting to find you all on his own, he got her attention.

“Excuse me,” He waved to her with a fake smile, “Do you know where I can find (Y/n) (Y/L/n)?”

The lady smiled and took Bucky by surprise by laughing. His fake smile vanished immediately, his eyes squinting in a annoyed expression.

“That would be me!” You exclaimed with a warm smile.

Bucky’s eyes widened and he thought for a second he was being fucked with, but after you stayed smiling at him, being as patient as ever— he knew you weren’t joking.

“Uh right… Your dad is Pierce?” He asked hesitantly, keeping his guard up. Still thinking someone was messing with him— testing him.

You nodded slowly, giving him a curious expression. Your smile never wavering.

“Yes, and you are?” You asked so politely.

Bucky shouldn’t of been as shocked as he was but truthfully, he was expecting a demon spawn of a person. Red eyes, withered flowers left in your path, a literal storm cloud floating over you— but you looked so normal. So sweet and pretty. Your hair smelled so strongly of strawberry shampoo, he could catch the scent from his spot. Your voice was like honey, the sound soothing.

He was confused as to why your father thought so wrongly of you. He had too many questions.

He cleared his throat, straightening himself now that he believed you were who he was looking for.

“(Y/n), my name is Mr. Barnes— I’ve been hired as your personal bodyguard.” He informed you, watching the corners of your mouth falter slightly.

“Oh, did my Father hire you?” You asked politely.

“Yes ma’am.”

You nodded your head, attempting to keep a smile on your face. But you couldn’t help the distaste for being given a bodyguard. You knew it was only for the sole purpose, that your Father didn’t want to care for you anymore. He wanted nothing to do with you. That fact was enough to make your nose start to burn, but you held yourself together— not wanting to break down in front of this new guy.

Bucky watched you take in the information, the way you took a deep breath, almost controlling yourself before you spoke again.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Barnes. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends.” You told him.

Bucky shook his head, an annoyed expression etching his face.

“Ma’am, I think we should keep things professional. I have been hired as your bodyguard. Let me do my job, and you can continue with your day as usual. You won’t even know I’m here half the time.” He explained rather harshly.

You seemed taken aback, his words hurting you more than they should’ve. You were lonely, and you thought you’d be able to get a friend out of this situation. Even if he was being hired to hang around you. Luck didn’t seem to be on your side as he told you off. The burning felt stronger in your nose, and you took another deep breath.

Bucky only felt bad for a second, but he was quickly snapping back to reality. It was his life on the line to protect you, and if Bucky was anything— it was that he was good at doing his job. This was business, not playtime.

“I’m here to take you home. Are you ready?” He asked you.

You relaxed your quick beating heart, not even having time to speak with your Father. Not that he’d want to anyway. So much had changed since your Mother passed, you had yet to heal those wounds.

You nodded with a weaker smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. If Bucky had noticed your sudden mood change, he didn’t mention it— instead guiding you outside.

He opened the door to the car that was waiting outside for you, climbing in himself after you were settled.

He started driving to your place, with the help of the car telling him directions.

Meanwhile you gazed out the window, watching the buildings pass by. You forced yourself to keep a small smile on your face, hoping you’d convince yourself that the gesture was genuine if you did it long enough.

Bucky glanced back at you through the rear view mirror from time to time, watching you look out the window. He was still trying to come to terms with how polite you were, how completely opposite you were to your Fathers description.

On one hand it was a relief that he didn’t have to deal with the devil. On the other hand… he was anxious to see where this job would lead him.

A/N: I don’t know what is wrong with me, but suddenly I had this urge to write a bodyguard!bucky fic. let’s be honest, we are all slut’s for bodyguard!bucky 😭 I’m also a whore for the trope grumpy x sunshine 🥰🥴 let me know what you think— this is all word vomit.

[luveline]

bodyguard!james taking care of a sick girl who's just tired and in dire need of touch (not at all self-indulgent, love you angel!!)

“Is this part of the job description?” 

James can barely understand your mumbling. He helps you up another step, then the last, his arm behind your back to keep you steady. “Absolutely. If I let you walk up the stairs all by yourself you would have fallen.” He slows now you're on the landing, checking over your waxy face with concern. “Almost there, shortcake.” 

“M'not short.”

Whether you are or you aren't isn't the point. “You're short to me, and you're sweet. Hence, shortcake.” The hallway to your room is long and wide, a luxurious arrangement, but eventually it comes to and end, and the door to your suite beckons. “Okay, here we are. Good job, sweetheart, you made it all the way here.” 

“Don't patronise me.” 

He pretends he doesn't hear you. It isn't hard, you're barely talking, your face lolled to one side, the collar of your stiff shirt digging into your neck. 

James pretty much carries you to the small platform that houses your bed, pulling the sheets back and encouraging you to sit. You collapse immediately downward, missing all your pillows, your breath coming in shallow pants. Your stuffy nose is stressing you out and the stairs were hard for you. 

He kneels down by your legs where they hang over the edge and rubs your knee. “Alright,” he says gently. “I'll take your shoes off.” 

“Don't have to.” 

“Don't be silly. Can't have you sleeping in your clothes.”

“‘Cos you're such gentleman,” you whisper dazedly. 

He peeks up to find you've turned your face into your sheets. You draw lazy shapes with a trembling hand over the stretch of them, somewhere else. 

James unties your laces and pulls your shoes off. He kisses your knee, only stopping to think maybe he shouldn't have when he stands and your shuttered eyes have widened. He turns still as a statue, waiting for the reprimand, the (more than allowed) demand that he leave you be, but your eyes soften again and you smile at him like he's hung the moon in front of you. You're amazed. 

“Poor girl, you're very poorly, aren't you?” he asks. 

“I'm quite warm.” 

He offers his hand. When you nod, he presses the back of it to your forehead and feels downward. You're as warm as you say, not worryingly so but uncomfortably for sure. James turns his hand, holds his palm flat to your hairline. 

“If I leave you your pyjamas, can you change by yourself?” 

“No.” You fluster at your own answer. “I–I don't think so. But I can sleep fine, I'll just take off my trousers.” 

You can barely string a sentence together, words running together, syllables missing as your voice grows hoarse. James will figure something out, he decides, stroking near the edge of your forehead fondly. “No pyjamas, then. You'll be okay while I get you a cold flannel?” 

“M'fine.” 

James pushes his hands under you and manhandles you into a more regular position, a soft pillow firmly under your head, your princess sheets plump to the touch. “C'mere,” he says under his breath, moving to the collar of your shirt, “let me get that for you.” 

“Thank you.” 

He pops one button, a second, working his fingers under the collar to push it away from your throat. You're silent beside the struggle of breath, your nose whistling with each one. 

He's struck with wanting to be more. More than your guard, and more than your friend. He'd like to take care of you intimately, crawl into bed next to you and hold you, rub your back, just keep you company while you're in pain. But he can't do any of that, and as soon as you're comfortable, he'll be back at the door. Waiting for you, like he always is. 

“I'm sorry you're not feeling well,” he says. 

“I feel much better now, all your touching,” you assure him, your eyes closing of their own accord. “Just… tired…” 

James gives your cheek a quick hold. He straightens up, squares his stickying smile into a neutral expression, and goes to get that wet flannel for you. All your touching, he thinks, shaking his head. Maybe you'd like it if he crawled into bed with you after all.

[goldustwomun]

will we talk? (j.p.)

pairing: bodyguard! james potter x baker! reader

summary: it was only meant to be a one night stand-- a pretty fucking amazing one night stand, but one night nevertheless. so when your dad informs you of a bounty on your head and beloved bakery, you expect just about anyone in the world but james to show up as your newly appointed bodyguard. he doesn’t even fit in with the decor!

warnings: allusions to sex (minors dni!!!), swearing, mentions of a sketchy job (drugs, arms, trafficking etc. u kno the drill w/ obscure mafia stuff), very very hot james xoxo

wc: 2.9k+

note: guess who’s back! (back back) back again! (again, again). anyway, hey :) i had random lines written for this for over a year & tbfh first yr of uni was great and then shit and then really shit so i had no desire to write, but i want to try!!! i really do!!! please, <3 comment & reblog <3 it means the world to me & literally every writer out there! excited for u all to read this :)

Some might say it’s obscene to be sat at a bar, three vodka cokes down, when it was only just past 7 o’clock. The sun still stared pointedly down outside the window, streets bustling with people only just starting their commute home. And sure, any other young adult might have used this opportunity to meet some friends, have a quiet night in, maybe text that one guy on Tinder they’d been putting off meeting– something, anything to fill the awkward lull in time that wouldn’t be too much of a regret the next day.

Some might say it’s obscene, but you like to think it’s just another Tuesday.

The problem with Tuesdays is that more often than not, Wednesdays tend to follow. And it was at noon on the dot that you’d have to make your forty-minute bus ride downtown (a mistake in itself when all anyone could smell was weed, piss and something else indistinguishably rancid), into the one office building that seemed to substantially out-tower the others like some sort of architectural pissing contest, only to sit in front of your Dad and his ever-overpowering bluntness.

And it’s not like you despised him with every molecule in your body– rather, a few molecules here and there. He loved you, that you were certain of, but owing anyone money, your own father especially, made relationships uncomfortable in a sticky, sweaty, clammy-hands kind-of-way. He had always been an immovable figure, suspiciously mafia-esque, even, but of course, you’d never dare broach the subject.

So, Dad, Pa, Father dearest– are the rumours true? Do you really run an underground boxing ring? Or is it arms? Drugs, maybe? As long as it’s not human trafficking, I’ll still love you!

Some things are better left untouched. If ignorance was bliss, you were determined to remain in whatever liminal state of unknowing you’d been in your entire life.

And while he kept to himself and you did to, the last Wednesday of every month, noon on the dot, was not to be messed with. You’d learned that the hard way when you’d missed one during a particularly harrowing cold. It’d been like a SWAT team smashing through your apartment windows when you’d forced her eyes open.

So instead, you gulped down another glass of scathing liquid, all but gagging near the end at the acidic taste of un-mixed liquor swirling around the bottom of your glass.

It was Tuesday, after all, and you hoped if you drank enough, there would be a chance you’d be able to zone out tomorrow– a sweet spot you’d yet to master (somewhere between mildly hungover but still coherent enough to please him).

“What is that– your fourth? Fifth?” A voice questioned alongside a scratch of the bar stool to your left. It was deep, curious, deliciously rough– enough so that your mouth quirked behind your glass, bracing yourself for the face attached to such an addictive timbre.

“Third, actually–” you turned, finally taking in the tousled, black hair, crooked nose with rounded glasses perched on top of them, “--have you been counting?”

He had a kind of all-consuming appearance. Dark yet boyish when you noticed how his smile leaned one way, and a slight chip in his front tooth. An athlete, maybe? You were going to thank whatever misguided angel, deity or God herself had brought him to you.

You didn’t make a habit out of chatting up posh-looking lads with egos that rivalled even that of Icarus and his melting wings, but maybe just this once you’d give in– actually take what’s being offered.

“Huh– dunno why you’re sounding so smug, love. Three drinks and it’s not even dinner time. Some might call that a problem.” Almost immediately that smile of his morphed into an all-knowing smirk, a teasing gleam swimming about in those swampy hazel eyes of his.

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Who? Eighteen year olds having a taste of their first legal drink? Not sure three drinks add up to literal alcoholism, love,” you threw back, defensive, accompanied by that kind of uppity tone in your voice you despised hearing in others’.

His irrefutable bemusement only sharpened the knife poking away between your ribs. Your frown deepened, and so did his grin, but still, his hands flew up in mock-defence as if your words could bite back (and boy, did you wish they could).

“My bad, sweetheart, only teasing,” he assured, nodding at the bartender and then your now-empty drink. Another one, his practised movements seemed to say,

“Do you make a habit out of calling girls alcoholics and then buying them a drink?” you asked, curiosity taking over your irritation.

He shrugged and you couldn’t help but follow the movement, watching as his broad shoulders seemed to invade your space with such careless effort. “So far, just you. It’s something new I’m trying out. What do ya’ think, is it working?” Again with that boyish charm– some sort of arrogance and humility all at once.

Your head shook in an immediate no, but more so to hide the smile that had unwillingly crept onto your face. You knew, with the way things were going, that you’d give into just about anything the man offered (of which he’d not even hinted at yet, but you were just so mesmerised and maybe a little tipsy so you didn’t quite care enough to think of how desperate you may be coming off).

“‘M James, by the way,” he offered as a white flag, a surrender, if you will. You accepted by returning the formality and raising your new drink to his own– a half-empty glass of clear liquid and ice.

“What is that?” you motioned to the beverage in question, “like– 10 shots of straight vodka at once?”

He snorted, a little ugly yet somehow endearingly attractive. Fuck. “Even better, actually– water.”

“And is that new as well, to go with the accusations and drinks?”

“Oh, yeah– I’m really trying to commit to this new year, new me thing,” he bounced back effortlessly.

“It’s November,” you deadpanned, brow arched.

“So I’m either a month and a bit early, or eleven late,” he quipped. You were stunned by the easy rhythm of your back and forth, wondering in what world someone like him could exist– a paragon of a man or whatever the scholars called it. “And while that’d be a fun little story if it were the truth, ‘m actually starting a job tomorrow. Big one, as well. Figured some self-restraint was in order.”

And it was only then that you’d noticed just how little space there was between the both of you, having somehow drifted closer, closer, closer like galaxies hurtling towards each other.

You all but swallowed, staring at his drink held between you, a last barrier that seemed both momentous and insignificant. He’d got you caged in as well, an arm lazing on your backrest, near enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin, blood, maybe even his desire. And his legs, in a somewhat similar position, only a whisper away from knocking into your own.

You considered giving in right then and there, urging his mouth to yours, maybe leading him to the restroom in a grungy stall you wouldn’t otherwise go near on even your worst, most wasted nights.

“Self-restraint with the drinks only, right?” you questioned, tearing your gaze from his glass to his eyes, only to find them already fixated to you. His mouth was perched open, a glide of his tongue against his bottom lip, and the action draws you closer to that chip in his tooth you’d noticed earlier– the one that begged you closer. For inspection, a taste– whatever.

“Oh, but of course. It’s my undoing really, my Achilles Heel, my Hubris,” he seemed to murmur, his words a secret between the two of you. You felt bold then, a rush of heat pouring through your veins as your palm came to rest on the thigh closest to you.

His eyes flickered down for a moment, as if making sure it was real — that touch — before they returned to you. Waiting, watching, with bated breath.

“What is?” you asked, questioning if you’d missed a part of his sentence or if he really was striking you speechless and a little stupid with his words.

“Pretty girls with drinking problems,” and you couldn’t help the surprised laugh that burst from you. He grinned and it was pure majesty.

“Yeah?” you mumbled, inching forward.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, sealing his mouth to yours.

It was bright, too bright in his office– like the ceiling lamps worked part-time in interrogation rooms on the weekends. As much as you needed to be alert, comprehensive, at least mildly sober– it just wasn’t going to happen.

Last night had been something else entirely– the kind of mind-blowing fuck you could only ever dream about, when nights were lonely and the left side of the bed cold for too long. Your memory was somewhat hazy, tinged red with lipstick and lovebites and kicking the duvet out of the way to reach more skin. It was scathing yet sweet and a kind of ruination you welcomed with open arms.

But it also ended abruptly when your eyes flickered open the next morning (a few hours later, more like) and he was already gone. You knew it was for the best– you barely had time for yourself, your family and friends, let alone a stranger with a quick (and skilled, in many ways) tongue and wit.

So there you were, jarred by the empty feeling seeping into your bones. And the lights (had you mentioned the lights?).

“Now, how have things been going this past month?” your Father asked in that all-business, no-nonsense way of his. You think he knows you’re hungover but like all things in your relationship, the two of you choose to ignore it.

“There haven’t been as many customers as I would have liked. The school down the road has been half empty since most of everyone is on study leave, but I–”

“I didn’t ask for excuses, only how it’s going,” he interrupted swiftly. A stabbing pain seemed to appear at the base of your skull as you conjured the remaining energy inside of you to not roll your eyes at your own Father, as well as the man you quite literally owed thousands of pounds to.

“Of course, my bad,” you bit out, taking a deep breath before continuing. “The shop wasn’t as successful as previous months but I’ve got the money here anyway so I’ll still be on track.”

He nodded, accepting your answer and the envelope you placed on his otherwise scarce desk in front of him, before he slid the money, unchecked, into his top drawer.

You sighed, hurrying your words and rushing to gather your things and be out of that dreary office, “Well, if that’s all, I’ve got some errands to run and–”

“--Actually, there’s more I need to discuss with you.” For the second time that day, he cut you off and you fell, defeated, back into the cold leather of the chair. You tilted your head in some sort of half-nod that said, go on.

With his hands clasped in front of him, a stern front if there ever was one, he continued. “As you know, my work is complicated–” (you frowned) “--complicated and expensive. And when one is dealing with the amount of money this company makes, things can get… messy.”

To say you were confused would be an understatement. An actual conversation, albeit clouded with obscurity, about his job? “And when things are messy, one tends to make enemies.”

You couldn’t help how your frown deepened, but you held back any concerns before they could make their way past the tip of your tongue. Your Dad wasn’t one to be interrupted, even if he was particularly talented at doing it to others.

“Essentially, there’s someone who’s not very happy with me–” your mouth opens finally to prod at his statement but he continues anyway, “--and despite every precaution I have taken in order to keep you safe and separate from my work, it’s unfortunately backfired this time around. And so, for your safety, I’ve hired a bodyguard to watch over you for at least the next few months.”

He finished and then there was a resolute silence hanging over you as you took in his words.

You couldn’t help it– you burst out laughing.

“Dad, you’re not– I mean–” the sentence barely made its way out of your mouth before you were overcome with a fit of nervous giggles once more. This is absurd. “You’re not being serious, you can’t be. Right?”

Silence.

Oh.

So that’s when the panic set in, your fingers clutching the armrest on either side of you until your knuckles were white. “Holy fucking–”

“Language,” he scolded with no particular bite and you couldn’t help but scoff,

“Language? Seriously, language. That’s all you have to say. You’ve just told me there’s some kind of bounty on my head and that I need a bodyguard– like, a person to follow me around, twenty four-seven, and carrying a gun or some shit– but all you can think to say to me is fucking language?!” Your breath came out in quick pants, jumping to your feet as you paced the office.

This must be a joke, you thought incredulously. You can’t have some stranger following you around. You had a business to run, croissants to sell, debt to pay off! Who could possibly–

And somehow it got worse.

He walked in and the two of your gazes connecting immediately, like magnets (though this time in a completely different context with your own Father as a member of the audience). You could see, from your place by the window, how his irises grew imperceptibly wider for barely a second as the recognition set in.

“No. No, no, no,” you blurted out immediately, mouth still wide from shock and suddenly you questioned whether your rapid heartbeat was a surprise or something close to a heart attack. Oddly, you’d have preferred the latter.

“Sweetheart,” he had pulled out the big guns now, “this is James Potter.”

“Dad—” you tried and failed to interrupt.

“Don’t worry about the logistics, I’ve sorted it all out. I’ve already rented the apartment next to yours so that he’s nearby at all times. He’ll need to be hired as an employee at your bakery– you know, for appearances sake— but don’t worry about the cost, i’ve got it covered.” Your mouth opened and closed, gaping like a fish out of water.

“And most importantly, he is not to leave your side. Ever.” He said it with ease like he hadn’t just informed you that your one night stand had turned into your shadow for the foreseeable future.

James had yet to say anything, his face a facade you wished you could slap off in that moment. Instead, he stood stalk still, arms poised behind him like some sycophantic robot ready to do whatever your Father pleased.

“He can’t be my bodyguard, Dad,” you urged, rushing to his desk, palms slamming down in front of him.

His response was a raised brow (you shared that in common). “And why’s that?”

It’s like you could hear James’ heart skip a beat, probably because yours had as well. You couldn’t tell him the real reason– that’d be a death wish, for the pair of you, if there ever was one.

“It’s just– he’s too big!” James didn’t smile, not outwardly, but you could see it in his eyes when you glanced his way. “I mean, he’s scary or whatever. He won’t fit in with the decor and it’ll scare away the customers,” you reasoned.

He finally spoke and it was then that you truly did consider walking over and slapping him across his stupid, gorgeous face. “What customers?”

You scoffed, whipping your head towards him. “Oh, screw you!”

James looked as if he were going to bite back, mouth poised for a reaponse, but your Dad cut in to save the two of you from outting yourselves.

“That’s enough. This isn’t up for discussion. James is your bodyguard and you’ll have no say in the matter.”

You deflated immediately, collapsing into the same chair you’d sat in, clueless, earlier.

So much for one night.

comment & reblog :)) if u have any ideas for the next chapters do lmk!!! woo!!

[ddejavvu]

Hello! Hpw are you? May I request Bodyguard!James Potter worried about reader’s insomnia for the multiverse?

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

i'm doing okay! i hope you're doing well <3

--

James's shift barely started five minutes ago, and he's already checking on you. Sirius had ended his own shift with one last nightly check-up, but James apparently feels that it wasn't enough, because he pokes his head through the door. You can't see it from where you're pretending to sleep, but you hear the creak of the door, then his soft sigh.

"Cut it out," James steps inside, the squeak of his shoes on the floor alerting you, "I know you're not asleep, princess."

Your eyes snap open with a sigh, "How'd you know?"

"You put your leg up when you sleep," James sidles up beside your bed, tapping at your thigh, "And I always think it looks uncomfortable. Y'can't fool me with your legs all sprawled out like that."

"I'm trying to sleep," You promise earnestly, "It's just not working. I took medicine, but it's not kicking in. My wrist hurts, and I can't get it to stop aching. My left leg is too hot, and my right leg is too cold, but they swap if i put the blanket over only the right one. My pillow is warm on both sides, and I'm tired, and I just-" Your voice nearly breaks, getting thin and brittle, "I just want to sleep."

"Okay. Alright, love," James croons, rounding to the other side of the bed, "Turn over, that's it," He helps you roll over so that your back is to him, "Now, m'gonna rub your back, okay? Just close your eyes, let the medicine work its magic, and we'll check out your wrist in the morning, okay? Keep it straight, not bent."

"Okay," You sigh miserably into your pillow, but the moment his hand hits your back to brush slow, soft circles over it, you reconsider your pessimism.

"Close your eyes," James murmurs, noticing you're staring off towards your bookshelf. You snap them shut and he rewards you with a soft curl of his fingers, scraping his nails against your back ever-so-slightly.

"Good," He hums, trailing his hand all the way up to brush through the baby hairs at the nape of your neck, "I'll keep it cool in here for you, sweetheart. Just sleep, let me take care of everything else."

[velvetcloxds]

LITTLE BIRD | S.B.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: mafia!sirius, secret agent!regulus (not related to sirius in this au), prince!james, princess!reader, potter!reader, bodyguard!lily, future prince!remus- when I tell you I want to make this a series sooo badly, I've so many ideas

summary: when your parents go missing and hoards of people are trying to get into the palace to hurt you and your brother, you have no choice but to go and get help from the last person your parents would have you be associated with

There was a vibrant hum in the palace as you walked down the stairs, hearing aggravated groans filled with words that you simply knew they’d have swallowed had you already been in the room. You expected no less in your parents’ absence, everyone wanting to have their say in managing the situation at the gate, nearly hundreds of men and women gathering in angry hoards as they tugged at fencing, threw at windows, and cursed into the air. There were many opinions, always were, however, a queen and her husband missing and leaving her children to command her country while she was indisposed, prompted all the more than usual.

The door to your mother’s office opened from inside, strange faces meeting you as you stepped into the doorway, a silence shivering over the small space as James sighed, almost relived as men backed away from the corner, they’d talked him into, merely bowing their heads in acknowledgment of your presence.

“Ah,” he began and brushed his shirt into place as he nodded towards you. “Little sister, I assume you’ve come to enlighten us on the only right way to handle our little predicament?” he mused, and you knew his tone to have a familiar mix of sincerity yet belittlement to it.

Your brother was an odd creature, unlike either of your parents, unlike you for that matter. Never one for the politics of your home, the weight of your family, much rather cooped up in his room with his paintings, he’d have himself starved yet inspired instead of sitting about the throne dealing with issues of state. He was wise in his personal endeavors, but foolish in his belief that the Potter name held no purpose in his life, despite your shared responsibilities he’d always managed to twist your lives to benefit his own, though admirable for some, it left you plastered in his misfitting shoes.

“Consider the problem already solved,” You began and as if on cue, Lily came stumbling into the room behind you, momentarily stealing the men’s attention before demanding eyes fell back onto you. “Though I’m sure my parents appreciate council being offered so graciously to their children, I can assure you that we are capable of managing our own affairs,” You explained and cleared your throat as you stepped aside, hands folded in front of you as you waited for them to understand your request.

“I think what my sister is far too kindly trying to say, is that our mother fairs well without a bunch of old men telling her what to do and so will we,” James agreed and with a tired shrug he plumped down onto the leather office chair, gesturing the gaping men out of the room with an outstretched hand as he smiled at you. “So, what’re you going to do?” he asked once the room had cleared, assuming you’d miss the way his gaze lingered but a second too long on the woman who hovered at your side, hand resting on her gun halter as she looked at her feet.

“What I always do,” you informed him, allowing an arrogant smile to tilt into your lips, knowing it had no place there yet having no control over it all the same. “Clean up your mess.”

It was not long before you were pulling your coat around your body, ignoring the warnings that Lily was mumbling, a well-known mantra much like the one she’d heard from Regulus when he was training her to be your guard and much like you did to him, you paid the words no mind. You pulled the hood over your head as you reread the map on your phone to guide you in your escape, feet leading you past the staff rooms, through the fire escape that led you right into the hidden gardens where James thought he could smoke in secret.

“Princess, your parents wouldn’t approve of this,” Lily whispered, peering around the lawn as you opened the hidden latch that was made by the very person you were running to see. “Now is not the time to take this risk, not when they’re not here to get you out of trouble.”

“I have no choice, you know that, and they’d know that as well,” you bargained, knowing she had no intentions of making you stay when she followed you out of the gate and to the outside, the shouting and stomping growing louder as the two of you looked around for the car that he’d sent for you.

Not a word more was exchanged on the way from the palace, familiar apprehensive looks shared as the driver kept his eyes on the road, only looking down when his phone chimed with a text from the man in question, you presumed. You were unnervingly accustomed to the entire ordeal, knowing that despite the risk you were taking, the reward would be far greater, worth much more as you considered your choices. Lily was right when she spoke about your parents. You were making your own bed, as they’d taught you to, but they’d never approve of who you were inviting into it. You thought you’d have more time, time to butter them up to what was shaping up to be a yearlong conversation in hope for peace, but you’d never accounted for riots at your front door or death threats with blood stains thrown through your window.

The car eased to a still in front of the cold brick building, a hand on your back guiding you out of the street, away from wondering eyes as you looked back to see if Lily was close behind, the route was no different than before, the unhappy glares and whispered musings of disapproval being of no bother as you waited to be taken to his door.

“Princess,” a voice snarled, and you had no restraint as a frustrated breath left your lips, your mission was brought to a stop as a man stumbled into your way. “It’s been quite a while since we entertained royalty on this side of town,” he noted and you mustered a look of faux surprise, shaking yourself from the grip on your back as you looked him up and down.

“That might be true, but I am not here as royalty.”

“Aye? Who are you here as then?” he persisted and you scoffed, knowing that by the sudden silence that sauntered into the air the man in question was not far from the little scene that’d been formed, disrupting his time.

“My friend,” the thick accent fled through your senses as though it filtered through your veins, his frame begging your gaze to drift to him and it obliged, always did, a teasing smirk on his lips as he looked down at you from atop the stairs. “Does anyone have a problem with that?” he prompted, and it was as though the simple words held piles of threats as the men separated to make room for you to walk.

“Princess,” Lily gave a frustrated scoff as she was stopped at the foot of the stairs. “Be careful,” she insisted before you followed the man of the house to the office that you’d spent many nights hiding from the world, debating a settlement for families only known as foes.

“Sirius,” you sighed, closing the door behind you and smiling when he pushed himself onto the empty desk that sat askew in the corner of the bare room, his eyes trailed slowly over your face, trying his best to decipher why you were there without you saying anything, he had a frustrating habit of doing so quite successfully. “I need a favour,” you breathed after a second that seemed to last forever, squirming slightly under his gaze despite it being far from strange.

“I assumed as much,” he teased, nodding for you to go on as you walked towards him, tugging the hood from your head, fingers moving to ease everything back into place.

“There are people rioting in front of my home, threatening us, promising to kill us,” you began and stilled right at his side, looking down at the city as it lay in the streets, cars pulling up and then pulling away after mere minutes, a notion that you would’ve questioned in the past had you not learned to keep your nose from his business.

“I saw,” he leaned back against the wall to see you again, no doubt missing the smile that dipped into your mouth as he proved without much prompt that he cared at least slightly if you had managed to escape unharmed. “How did you get out?”

“Same way you get in.”

“Clever girl,” he tutted, and you’d have laughed at him if you weren’t to be in his debt in the future. “What exactly do you want me to do, hmm? Riots at the palace seem more like a job for the police, no?”

“They’re wearing your name, Sirius.”

You didn’t know how long you were supposed to pause after that. You were somewhat expecting him to jump to his own defense, half expecting him to accuse you of mistrusting him, yet you knew neither was to happen. Trust was a rather strong word to use for whatever the relationship was that you had. You knew he was true to his word, knew he would not allow you to come to any harm and though your power was much less than his own, you’d try to do the very same for him. Though beyond all of that, you knew that as many troubles lay with your name, there were many that laid with his own. He was a criminal, after all, some of the worst of his kind and you were in his home, begging him to help you when you knew it would earn you heaps of problems in turn. Your mother would have your head, she’d have his too. She didn’t take out his family, his entire line of kin just for you to allow their kind right back into your lives.

“They’re not mine,” he offered, and his hand settled on the table next to yours, tilting his head to see what you were looking at, humming as if to acknowledge your train of thought. “That’s part of our little agreement, is it not? Our little settlement of peace? I may not harm your family as revenge for what your mother did to mine, and you let me make a quick buck off taking out the bad guys the police miss,” he sighed at that, noticing the way you rolled your eyes at his almost mocking tone as he mimicked words that you’d spoken out of serious intents to do good. “Those men are trying to hurt you, Y/n, if they were mine then I’d have them tied and beaten already, you understand that don’t you?”

“Of course, I do,” you sighed, and though you should be very much appalled by his words, you found an odd sense of comfort in his reassurance, smiling with him as he nodded at you.

“Good. Now, do you want me to take care of it for you?” he asked and needed no answer to know that that was exactly what you’d come here for. “I sent men down as soon as you texted me. The gate will be cleared by the time you get home,” he explained and chuckled softly at the shock that sifted onto your face. “You think I’m not the first one to know when you’re in trouble, little bird?  Though, I’ll admit, you were very brave coming all the way here, would not have known you were nervous had it not been for those,” he informed you as he pointed to your shaking hands, you’d hoped your grip on the table would’ve hidden it, but it seems you were very wrong, warmth spreading across your cheeks.  “You’re shaping up to be quite the leader, you know, your mother would be proud.”

“So would your father.”

“Oh, I would not say that, bowing to a Potter is what he regrets most.”

“I’m sure,” you smiled, looking up to the door when Lily stumbled through it, just like before, the same look on her face as she looked between you and Sirius.

“Your parents were just brought home by Regulus and the rest of the CIA,” she explained, holding the phone out to show you the picture of them arriving at the palace and you had to shake your head at the timing, Sirius’ words being anything but empty as there was not a single soul out on front of the place, barely any evidence left behind of the reason for your visit except for abandoned signs and makeshift weapons.  

“I have a new car waiting for you outside,” Sirius announced and shrugged when you looked at him with what any normal person would describe as awe, though you’d never dare to label it as such, merely an appreciation for his capabilities. “I’ll call when you get home.”

[harleyquinn3289]

Calling all Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier fans. I'm looking for some stories with Bucky/Winter Soldier stories. If you know any good ones comment below 👇 where I need to look. It could be the name of the stories or the name of the writers. Thank you. 👋 💜 💙

[deliciousangelfestival]

His Silly Princess | Bucky (Oneshot)

Character: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader

Words Count: 1,671

Summary: A modern royal love story. A naive princess who wants to get away from an arranged marriage. She never knew that her guard had loved her since the beginning. 

Main Masterlist || support me: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Zylovia is a country where monarchy still exists. It’s a developed country located near Western Europe. 

It’s a prosperous country, and the number of unemployed is also the lowest. Tourists love coming here for the casino, race car, and music festival. 

But this country has one outdated rule. It didn’t apply to the citizens. Only for the royal family. 

“If the female royal member marries a commoner, she will lose her status."

You learned that rule when you were 12 years old as the youngest siblings and Princess Zylovia. You didn't put a deep thought into it. 

But now, when you are almost 30 years old, and your older siblings are already married, you think this is good for you.

Because you realize you’re not fit to do the duty as a princess. 

Your oldest brother has prepared since he was a kid to be the king. When he reaches the age of 40, he will be crowned as the king. Your second brother will be the second commander in the military. 

While you have a job as a painting conservator at the museum, your duty as a princess is to welcome the official foreign guest at the castle. You learned some languages, but you’re not allowed to give any opinion on politics.

You don’t hate being a royal, but sometimes you feel like living in a golden cage. 

And finally, you had enough because, on your recent birthday, your parents talked to you about marriage. 

The king and queen don’t want to be separated from their youngest daughter, but they hint that they wish for her future husband from the royal circle. In other words: arranged marriage. 

You clenched your jaw while smiling at your parents. If the man from the royal circle is a real gentleman, you wouldn’t mind. 

But the problem is, please pardon the harsh language; none of the men from the royal family are your type. 

Your type of man must have a stable job, look good in suits, and have a nice body. 

That’s why, for a couple of days, you’ve made a list of potential future husbands. After you write it, you realize most of the men are from the knights. Perhaps because you always went to meet your second brother at the military training ground, so you know some people. 

Steve Rogers

[Friendly, not married, nerd, loves to paint like me]

Ari Levinson 

[Funny, beautiful hair, handsome]

‘Knock, knock!’ Suddenly, someone knocked on your door.

“Come in.”

You didn’t have to turn around to see who it was. You have known him for years, and your ears are familiar with the sound of his footsteps. 

The person who walked into your room has been your exclusive bodyguard for years - James Barnes, but you always call him Bucky his nickname. 

Bucky is a commoner and an elite soldier. If there’s a shooting competition, he will be in the top three. Your second brother always hates him. 

He has received many medals of honors, but he rejects a knight title from your father. You don’t understand why he declined the offer. If he received it, he could enter politics, and he doesn’t have to follow her around anymore. 

He’s tall, handsome, with perfect blue eyes and has fine muscles on his body. Bucky also has a primarily female fanbase when he wears the military uniform and rides a horse at the independence ceremony. 

He became a celebrity overnight.

But you have never seen or heard any rumor about him with a woman. 

“Your highness, in two hours you are going to attend the tennis tournament.” 

You dropped the pen and dropped your head to the table. “Urgh. Do I have to?”

Bucky chuckled when he saw you unwilling to go. One thing you hate about your duty is to be the guest at the tennis game. You prefer to watch the race car, but it's reserved for your brother's. 

Even though you didn’t want to go, you still dragged your feet to the dressing room to grab your coat. 

When you were searching for the right outfit, you suddenly remembered. “Oh no!” You didn’t hide the potential list that you just wrote. You wish you could dig your own grave and disappear. 

And you were right; Bucky saw your writing. He furrowed his eyebrows while he read your paper. “What’s this? Potential man for marriage?”

You stand beside him; you don’t know why you feel scared. This is the first time you have seen him like this. 

His slender, pointed fingers scratched the two names with his nails. There’s a big X on your paper. 

“Don’t marry any of those men.”

“Why?”

A small smile appeared on his lips, along with a soft voice, “Steve hasn’t moved on from his last girlfriend, and Ari, he loves to drink alcohol. I know you hate the smell of alcohol.”

You felt disappointed; you crumpled the paper and threw it into the trash.

“Marriage? Why all of a sudden?” There's an annoyed tone in his voice.

You rubbed your head and muttered, “I need to get married sooner, or my parents will arrange marriage for me, their friend's kid. And you know the truth, I had enough of being a princess.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “But, why them?”

“What?”

He clenched his fist; Bucky stared at her with an annoyed expression. “Why didn't you put me on the list?”

“....”

You waved your hand. “It doesn’t matter, as long as I got married.”

“So, would you like to marry me?”

Are you having hallucinations? Did Bucky just propose to you?

Bucky got on his knees. “Let’s get married.”

You still haven’t come to your senses. Bucky started talking again. “Think about it. Both of us have known each other for a long time. We’ve known each other's likes and dislikes. We’ve been through many things together.”

He’s right. He’s the safest choice if you want to marry someone. You shrugged your shoulders and accepted his hand. “Alright.”

Bucky's beautiful smile appeared on his face. Before he shook your hand, he felt you slightly pull his hand. When you saw him smile, your heart raced. “But, if in the end, we don’t like each other, please wait after three years, then we could get a divorce.”

Bucky chuckled; his attractiveness is not just in his physical appearance but also in his ability to manage his emotions gracefully and restraintfully. He leaned closer to you, and his hands gently grabbed your chin. 

As his calloused hand touched your skin, a subtle warmth spread on your cheeks. You could feel you're blushing. “Silly girl, it will never happen.”

#######

[Bucky P.O.V]

Then he rests your arms on his. “Then you have the excuse to skip the tournament.”

“Hmm?”

“We should inform this first to His Majesty and Her Majesty.”

“Oh, right.” You nodded, then looked straight into his blue eyes again. “This soon?”

********

When both of you walk through the hallway to meet the King and Queen, Bucky tries his best to calm down. He almost lost his common sense when he saw you write another man's name, and there’s a word of ‘potential husband.’

He looks at you and thinks ‘his silly princesses didn’t realize his feelings for her.’ 

Didn’t she know he declined the offer to be a knight so he could be her guard?

If he became a knight, he would work with her second brother. That’s the last thing he wants to do. 

“So, Bucky, don’t worry about money. When I resign as a princess, the kingdom will give us money.”

Bucky chuckled, seeing his sweet princess worried about their future, “That’s so sweet of you. But you don’t need to worry about that.” He gently patted her arms. He wants to tell you that he owns the famous casino in this kingdom and 5-star hotel chains in a few countries.

When both of you are married, Bucky will ensure you don’t have to work anymore. He is pretty sure that her parents will give their blessings even though he’s a commoner (and he’s super rich). The royal family has outdated rules, but because of it, he could marry you. 

Both of you arrived at the king's office room. The guards bowed their heads to greet you. Then you said, “Princesses Y/N and her guard. Wait… and her future husband, James Barnes wants to meet the king.”

The guards and the butler who opened the door lost their composure. They should have known from your body language walking here together hand in hand when usually Bucky always stands behind you. 

This news is shocking compared to the crown prince, who got caught partying too hard and the second prince, who had a messy love life before he got married. 

It seems like your father, the King, hears your voice. Before the castle butler tells him, you hear the gentle voice, “Come in.”

########

[2 years later]

<Former Princess of Zylovia Y/N, blessed with male twins>

It's the biggest headline in the country after you gave birth. You feel overwhelmed; you can't believe that you're parents now. 

The King and Queen hold your oldest son, while Bucky has the youngest son in his arms. 

Bucky's eyes are full of love, looking both at his sons. He was almost scared to death since you gave birth one month early. But the doctor assured both of you this is normal since you're pregnant with twins. 

Even though you're not a princess, you're still surrounded by your family. 

And Bucky still treats you like a princess. You almost lost your mind when he told you his business, which turned into your parents, and your brothers already know it, too. 

You want to knock your head; you didn't even know Bucky's business helped increase the country's GDP. 

Everyone said Bucky was the lucky guy to marry the former princess, but they were wrong. It's you who is lucky to marry him.

-End-

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[darkscrossfire]

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 Part two

Pairing: Obsessive!James Valdez x reader

Warnings: Death, possibly graphic mentions of death, betrayal, hints to blackmail.

Notes: I have so much determination to complete this fic. The support so far has been awesome. I’ve finally finished exams so i’m going to try my best to update as often as I can! :D

-> Previous part <-

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“We’re gathered here to honor the life that was Fernando Hernandez, a son, a father and a grandfather to those who loved him dearly. On this day of mourning, we recognize all that he has accomplished in the life that was taken away from him as not by order of God.”

Everyone around me seemed to be weeping as we all sat in the pews of the church, the pastor stood at the front with a bible in his grasp. Usually I would be sitting with tears streaming down my face, yet my skin remained dry. I couldn’t muster a single teardrop even though my body felt like it was soiling from deep within me.

James’ figure was sat next to mine, his knee occasionally brushing against mine. I had no energy to move, my eyes planted on the back of one of my distant cousins heads. I paid no attention to the pastor, my head empty as I found myself in a statuesque state. My lack of tears was likely strange, but everyone else was too focused on their own pain to notice.

I could feel James’ gaze turn to the side of my face. His expression was stoic, his job to ensure that no cartel related activities took place at the funeral. I knew that nothing would happen, but uttering that thought would make me incredibly suspicious, so instead I decided to keep quiet. My silence ensured that James stayed by my side, a supporting presence I desperately needed.

My hands were limply folded in my lap. If I could move, I would have been picking at the skin around my fingers. That action alone would have alerted James that something else was going on, that there was a secondary worry plaguing my brain. The pastors words fell as incoherent mumbles to my ears.

James eyes scanned my face for a moment, his eyebrows softly furrowing in a sympathetic action. It was not often that he showed such a soft emotion in public, not wanting to appear weak in front of anyone. Enemies were everywhere, eyes planted in the places you least expect.

My cold hand was suddenly enveloped in warmth. This sensation broke my frozen state and allowed me to glance down at the source, James’ hand interlacing with mine.

I stared down at our hands for a moment, his larger one keeping a comforting hold on mine. His gaze followed mine down to our hands. The sight sent a strange tingle through my chest, the first spark of positivity I had felt since the fire. James was good at bringing fear into those he aimed for, but he was also good at conjuring calm and peace. Every panic attack that he has soothed over the years confirmed that.

I met his gaze, his expression not changing and remaining almost blank. His eyebrows lightly furrowed, the movement so barely noticeable that if I hadn’t been face to face with him like this, it would have been overlooked. He gently squeezed my hand, and I couldn’t help but squeeze it back in return.

He slowly leaned forward, my figure stilling as his breath tickled my ear. He whispered. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

He slowly pulled away, my gaze still intently on his. On the surface, his words meant that everything would be alright and that I would heal from my grandfathers passing, yet something was evident beneath. The intensity in his gaze spoke other words. Almost as if he knew.

He couldn’t have. No one knew. If they did, I would be dead right now. If James knew then others would have known, there was a slim chance that only James knew. Information like that doesn’t stay in one person, it gets around quickly, faster than you can process.

He pulled his gaze away from me, staring forward again towards the funeral officiant, his gaze now hard once more and the softness that he given me faded away. His hand did not leave mine, still keeping a hold and every now and then delivering a soft squeeze. The feel of thumb drawing soft circles against the back of my hand brought my heart to a steady beat.

I glanced to my side, feeling eyes on me and immediately caught gazes with my mother who seemed to already be staring at me, her figure sat in the pew next to mine with my aunt at her side. My aunt Ana’s posture was hunched as she softly sobbed into her hand, her eyes pressed shut. My heart felt like it was tearing apart at the sight.

I directed my attention back to my mother. Her expression was soft, a light smile covering her features as if trying to comfort me. Yet the tears adorning her eyes and the sadness threatening to burst through at any moment told me that she herself was trying not to break.

I returned the soft smile and for the first time, warm tears spilt down my cheeks. They were not tears of loss but rather tears of guilt. My mother was staring right at the person responsible for this tragedy and she had no idea. A part of me contemplated whether I should just admit what I had done, allow my mother to receive the justice she desperately wanted.

My mother softly patted the spot next to her invitingly. My eyebrows softly furrowed and I glanced down at James and I’s hands as I was left with a choice. James’ eyes met mine once more and he gave a soft almost smile.

“Go sit with your mother.” He whispered, giving my hand one last comforting squeeze.

I hesitantly pulled my hand from his grasp, quietly moving from our pew and over onto the one my mother and aunt were at at. I slid in next to my mother, her arm immediately wrapping around my shoulder and allowing me to fit snugly next to her.

My hand still felt the warmth of James’. I found myself longing for it, as if the action of his holding mine was the most comfort I had received since all the tragedy happened. Even in the embrace of my mother, I felt cold. My entire body felt rigid once more and I felt myself in a constant state of inner discomfort for what I had done.

I looked back over at James but found that his attention was no longer on me. I found myself disappointed, wishing that I could have found that familiar comfort in his gaze once more. I forced myself to look back over at the funeral officiate, his words finally no longer falling into incoherent mumbles.

“Before we end in prayer, Miguel Hernandez, loving brother of Fernando, would like to say a few words of appreciation.” The funeral officiate spoke, moving away from the podium to let Miguel take his place.

Once the service was over, we all headed out towards where the coffin would be lowered. It felt surreal, watching the coffin be moved towards it, knowing that my grandfather was inside. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the sight at I watched it being lowered into the ground, the last time I would ever see it.

My mother figure was still at my side, soft sobs falling from her lips as she tried to remain composed but desperately failed. I don’t know why she would want to remain composed at the funeral of her father, she’s allowed to mourn. It’s probably something to do with the cartel and needing to appear almost untouchable at every moment.

My eyes caught James. He was adorned in a neat black tie suit, his hair styled upon his head. He wore a stoic expression, definitely following that cartel expectation. From the outside he was a very intimidating person, someone you’d expect to be able to kill you in an instant, and he definitely could.

I was glad to know more than what lay beyond the surface. I knew the softness that was inside that he chose to only show a select few people. I’m lucky enough to be one of those people. I didn’t understand why he decided to let me in, to see the him beyond the mercenary exterior, but I didn’t question it.

His eyes met mine and that softness covered his exterior, yet it felt more noticeable as he did not care if the other saw his moment of vulnerability.

“You feel guilty, don’t you?” He suddenly spoke out into the air.

My eyebrows furrowed as a sense of panic washed over me. What was he doing?

I quickly glanced around at the rest of my family members, to my mother at my side, but they all seemed entirely focused on the casket as if James’ voice had not sliced through the silence. His accusation made my heart start to thump in my chest.

“Everywhere you go… people die.” He spoken once more. “You wonder if you should just join your grandfather, save your family the risk of anymore destruction.”

My eyes widened and I felt myself in a state of shock. My lips parted for a moment before I was able to utter a meek, “James..” My voice hesitant and desperate as I took a small almost defensive step towards him.

“Luckily I have a soft spot for you, and I can make all of this go away.” He uttered, taking a slow step towards me.

I took another cautious step towards him, as if trying to barrier him from everyone. “James, what are you doing?” I quickly uttered out, glancing behind me at my family members but finding them still hyper focused on the casket in the ground, their minds appearing absent.

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, glancing back at James as I searched for answers in his deep brown eyes. He just held my gaze, taking another step towards me so that he was now right before me.

“I can save you from this.. from them. I can stop them from ripping you apart the moment they’ve found out what you’ve done.” He spoke in a low voice.

“I.. I didn’t do anything.” I whispered, warm tears filling my eyes which were a sign of my guilt.

“Don’t play dumb.” He warned. “You’re not built for this world and I won’t let them take you out of it. They say they love you but what they’ll do to you the moment they connect that lighter back to you will be a moment that’s filled with anything but love.”

I found myself unsure of what to say for a moment, not quite knowing what he was saying or what his intentions were. My eyebrows softly furrowed as whispered. “I don’t understand.”

A soft, almost taunting chuckle left him as he reached behind his back, his movements slow as if he knew that it was killing me in anticipation. The worst kind of anticipation. His attention shifted from me to the figure behind me, my mother, who’s attention was still entirely focused on the casket. Her body seemed stiff, and so did the rest of my family members.

“Maria.” He called out to her. Her attention finally turned towards us, a soft gloomy smile on her face.

Before she could speak, the deafening sound of a gunshot rang through the air and her figure fell to the floor with a thud. No one moved, no one reacted, except for me. 

A gasp of horror left my lips, my limbs now frozen in fear at the sight of my mothers lifeless body and the dark crimson wound in the middle of her forehead. Her eyes stared up at the sky, empty and now devoid of any emotion. Blood slowly trickled from the wound and down the side of her face.

I stared back at James in horror, unable to utter anything as my entire face read the expression of trying to figure out why he would do this.

“You shouldn’t have taken what wasn’t yours.” He uttered.

I shook my head in desperation as another sob left my lips. I wanted him to stop talking.

“You shouldn’t have disobeyed your grandfather… now look what you’ve done.”

His eyes moved to stare behind me and I slowly let my gaze follow his. The moment my eyes landed on what his were focused on, another sob filled gasp left my throat and my figure threatened to fall to the floor as my entire body became filled with an aching weakness.

My entire family lay slaughtered before me. Their bodies scattered across the grass, crimson soaking the dirt around them. They had received the same fate my mother had, shown no mercy by the sniper. Their soulless eyes stared at the grey, cloud filled sky.

This isn’t real.

This isn’t real.

Please don’t let it be real.

I woke with a burning gasp, my throat dry and my skin covered in a chilling cold sweat. My body ached as if it had been tensing for hours. My hands gripped the sheets as I tried to come clear of my surroundings, my eyes adjusting to the darkness that filled my room.

The one hour of sleep I had managed to get was filled with the mixture of a memory and a nightmare, the real aspect of it all distorted by the fear that had filled my brain. My grandfathers funeral had been far less eventful.

My heart was pounding in my chest, it thrumming in my ears as I glanced around my room expecting to see something responsible for the panic that filled my brain. My room was completely empty, the only sound being my own rapid breathing and the crickets softly chirping outside.

I slowly let my breathing come to a calm as I became aware that it was all a dream. I yearned for the memory of last night to be a dream, but I knew it wasn’t. My heart began to slowly pound in my chest once more as a sense of panic washed over me.

Mom.

Before I could think anything else, I was throwing the covers off my legs and quickly swinging off the bed and stepping onto the floor. My feet quietly thumped against the floor as I pressed my door open, my figure heading straight for my mothers room with a fear filled determination.

My brain was immediately assuming the worst, expecting to see the last remnants of my mother the moment I opened her bedroom door. My chest ached, warm tears filling my eyes and creating a blur in my vision. I could not help but feel that my dream was some sort of warning.

The sight of her open bedroom door made my steps come to a slow, taking in a soft breath as I prepared myself for the potential sight that lay before me. My hand reached out and pushed her bedroom door further open, my head reluctantly peaking inside to look upon-

An empty room with a neatly made bed.

I furrowed my brows in confusion as a momentary sense of relief washed over me. My brain refused to believe that she hadn’t been hurt in the process of James’ ridding of my uncle Jose. My feet hurried towards the stairs, grasping onto the railing as I hurried downstairs.

“Mom?” I called out, my voice struggling to come out as my throat felt like it was constricting.

The sound of quiet conversation emanating from the kitchen made my footsteps come to a slow, my eyebrows furrowing deeper as I neared the kitchen. I first spotted my aunt Ana’s figure leaned against the kitchen counter, her eyes lighting as she spotted me.

She let out a loud noise that was hard to understand what the source was, her figure hurrying to mine as her arms completely enveloped my body, pulling me into a bone crushing hug. My mind immediately assumed that she knew what happened to Uncle Jose, interpreting the sound she made as one of distress.

“I can’t believe it.” She uttered as she gave me a gentle squeeze.

I couldn’t help the warm tears that filled my eyes at her words. Did they know? Why were they so calm? I couldn’t understand what was happening and glanced over Aunt Ana’s shoulder at my mother who was staring at me with a smile reflecting that of pride?

Her figure was sat at the dining table, a magazine open in her hand before she slowly set it down, moving to stand from the table. My heart began to slowly pound in my chest again, my hands barely returning the right hug that my aunt was delivering. I stared at my mother with a blurry vision.

“Is everything okay?” I barely whispered.

My aunt let out another noise which I could now tell was not one of distress but one of excitement. She mumbled against my shoulder as she spoke, a sense of heartbreak to her voice. “My babygirl’s all grown up now.”

A strange sense of relief washed over me. They didn’t know. A part of me wanted to keep it that way, to keep the peace for my own sanity. My hands softly clenched the material of her shirt as I gentle nuzzled into her shoulder, finding a sense of comfort. I blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. I couldn’t decide what to do.

Aunt Ana pulled away, her face changing into one of concern as she noticed the light state of distress evident across my face. She titled her head in an quizzical manner. “What’s wrong?” She softly asked, her eyebrows lightly furrowing.

I glanced behind her, trying to find some semblance of proof that Uncle Jose was still alive. If he were, he would be down here with us right now. My chest tightened and I whispered. “Where’s Uncle Jose?”

Her expression deepened as sorrow covered her features, her hand lightly rubbing my arm in a soothing manner.

“Oh, i’m sorry. Uncle Jose couldn’t stay. Business in Seattle pulled him away early this morning. I tried my best to get him to stay but he turned his phone off the moment I did. He promised we would be here for you today.” Aunt Ana softly frowned.

He’s not in Seattle, he’s dead.

I couldn’t utter those words, I couldn’t tell her. How was I supposed to tell them that I had witnessed James murder Uncle Jose after he admitted to not caring to spare me once evidence of the fire was connected to me. My eyes struggled to meet Aunt Ana’s, unable to look her in the eyes knowing the horrifying truth.

A sense of confusion washed over me as I recalled her words, my eyebrows lightly furrowing as I uttered. “Be here for me?..”

She let out a soft chuckle, titling her head once more in amusement as she lightly squeezed my bicep in a teasing manner. “Just turned twenty-one and the dementia is already kicking in. You’re not that old, honey.”

My birthday. It’s my birthday.

I swallowed the burning lump in my throat, softly nodding as I tried to pretend that I hadn’t forgotten my own birthday due to the haunting memory of last night. “Right, my party. Sorry.”

My aunt dismissed my forgetfulness with a soft wave of the hand, turning to keep one arm wrapped around my shoulder as she faced my mother, a prideful smile across her face. “There’s pancakes on the counter, the ones you like. Your mom made them.”

My mother gave a soft smile, moving from her place at the table to replace my aunt at my side, placing a kiss to the top of my head. “Happy Birthday, mija.”

I met her gaze but failed to return the smile, only able to utter a meek whisper. “Thank you.”

My mother had never been the overly affectionate type. The only time she had truly shown any affection towards me in front of other was at my grandfathers funeral. When she pulled me to her side, it was a comfort I had not felt very often. Arguably, I had received more comforting affection from James in moments where she should have been the one comforting me.

I guessed that she just wasn’t very sure of how to comfort her own daughter. My grandfather wasn’t a very affectionate person, and as his own daughter it didn’t seem like she received the affection she should have.

She gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze before leaving the kitchen, leaving me to wander towards where the pancakes were. I wasn’t sure if I could stomach anything, but I still piled three onto a plate and moved towards the dining table.

My gaze seemed to be stuck at the world outside as I glanced through the large windows. I wanted to think of something, to place logic into what I had seen last night. My brain was yearning for it to have just been some kind of late night hallucination, but I knew it wasn’t. One side of me was angry at James for murdering my uncle, but the other side viewed him as a kind of savior.

He killed my uncle before the possibility of either one of us getting the blame for the fire could happen. Was it to save his own skin, or me?

My body stilled the moment the sound of familiar footsteps filled the air, sourcing from near his bedroom before heading down the stairs and towards the dining area. My entire body seemed to grow stiff before I began to shovel slices of the pancakes into my mouth as a way of busying myself so that I didn’t have to face him.

I could hear him enter the kitchen just opposite the dining area. Normally, he would have greeted me the moment he saw me, but today he was still. His eerie quietness did not help the thrumming of my heart inside my chest.

He flicked the coffe machine on, it beginning to softly rumble as the water heated up. There was the sound of his feet moving as he grabbed a mug from the cabinet, placing it on the counter before placing coffee inside. I found myself hyper aware of his every moment, yet keeping my eyes focused on my plate and the way my hand shook as I brought another forkful to my mouth.

After stirring his coffee, he let the teaspoon clatter in the sink before moving towards the dining table. My entire body went rigid, my head almost ducking down as if to try and cower out of sight. The air was thick, we both knew and yet we both did not dare to speak.

The chair across from me screeched as he pulled it out, placing his mug down before taking a seat. I hesitated for meeting his gaze. The moment our gazes connected, my stomach flipped. His demeanor was calm and collected, as if nothing was wrong. He offered a soft smile, one I tried to return but failed to.

I barely managed to stomach the breakfast my mother had made, not wanting to offend her by not eating it. I tried my best to remain calm and composed, but James’ gaze which seemed to burn holes into my being made my stomach churn. Every time I shoveled a fork full into my mouth, I found myself waiting for him to say something as he waited for me to say something.

I couldn’t say anything, no matter how much I wanted to. Every time the thought of speaking out about what I had seen last night crossed my thoughts, my body seemed to stiffen in a grave state of discomfort. My body would momentarily still before I would quickly try and regain my movement, wanting to avoid looking suspicious.

“You look tired.” James uttered to the air. “Did you not sleep well last night?” His head was tilted in an almost interrogating manner, he knew why and yet he wanted to hear me say it.

My body involuntarily stilled once more. I glanced over at him for a moment, my chest tightening. I softly shrugged, staring down at my plate as I softly spoke. “I’m fine.”

He let out a soft hum, moving his attention to the window outside. He brought his mug to his mouth, taking a soft sip before placing it down again, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. I couldn’t help but stare at him. The dream I had last night had intensified the feeling that was already stirring within my stomach.

“There’s going to be a lot of people tonight.” He uttered.

I didn’t speak for a moment, just giving a soft nod.

“A lot of people who care for you.” He met my gaze, his fingers lightly trailing over the handle of the mug before him. “You excited?”

I hesitated for a moment, possibly too long of a moment to go unnoticed before softly nodding once more. My voice felt stuck in my throat. I couldn’t bare to sit before him like this, to pretend that everything was normal. It wasn’t, at any moment the world was going to crumble.

“I’m gonna.. go get dressed.” I uttered, grabbing my plate to quickly stand, pushing my chair in before moving to place my plate in the sink. Somehow, I had managed to finish the pancakes, filling every moment of silence with the sound of chewing.

I exited the kitchen in a possibly suspicious speed, not caring if he stared as I left. I just needed distance. I needed time to figure this out. It was still quite a few hours until I needed to get ready for the party. Guilt burned in my stomach with every moment that I kept what I saw to myself.

I managed to hide away in my room without any interruptions or possible suspicion until it was time for me to get ready. My mother and I had gone shopping for the dress I was going to wear a few days prior. I had been so excited to wear it, but tonight it just felt wrong. It felt wrong knowing i’d go out to my birthday venue, face all my family and friends and not say anything.

I slipped on the dress, pairing it with a pair of small heels to ensure that my feet wouldn’t get too sore throughout the night. I planned to spend the night dancing away all of my problems with as much alcohol in my system as I could take without getting absolutely sick.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror of my dressing table. James had been right, I did look tired. My mother and aunt were apparently too excited about tonight to notice. His hyper focus on me was the reason he noticed, assessing me for any sign that I might give him up and tell the truth about what happened.

I gently applied the rest of my mascara, completing the look. I managed to hide the circles under my eyes and the dullness to my gaze with an eye look that complimented my features. I softly set the mascara down on the dresser and took in a soft breath as if to prepare myself.

Before I could stand, a soft knock was at my bedroom door. My eyebrows softly furrowed before I uttered, “Yes?”

The door opened with a quiet creek and my entire body seemed to grow stiff once more as James stepped inside of my room, not speaking a word as he closed the door behind him, leaving us alone in the confines of my room. My heart seemed to slowly begin to pound in my chest.

“Yes?” I whispered out, asking what it was that brought him here, watching him through the reflection of the mirror.

He held my gaze for a moment before taking a slow step forwards.

“Your mother would like to leave soon, just so that we can do last minute preparations at the venue.”

I nodded and softly spoke. “Okay.”

I expected him to leave after those words but he didn’t. Instead he just stood there for a moment, holding my gaze as it appeared he had a lasting thought on his mind. He took another slow step forward.

“I know i’m supposed to give you your gift at the party, but I just wanted to give you something before.” He stated.

I didn’t say anything, just simply watching him as I waited for him to continue. My mind was curious to what it was that he wanted to give me.

I watched as he slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket. My mind immediately began assuming the worst, that the gift he was going to give me was a bullet to the head on the night of my birthday. I watched with cautious eyes at his hand and almost let out a sigh of relief at the sight of a small black box in his fingertips.

“I had this made for you.” He softly spoke.

My eyebrows lightly furrowed at his words, as if surprised that he would do something so kind. I had always seen him as kind, even as I saw him do horrific things to those who apposed my mother.

He pulled the lid off of the black box and set it down on the dresser before me. He pulled a glistening gold necklace out of the box, the chain delicate. I watched through the reflection as he stepped towards me, bringing his arm around to join the necklace around my neck.

The chain was cold against my burning skin, all too aware of his presence behind me, the way his fingers brushed against my skin as he clasped it closed. His hands didn’t retreat, instead moving to rest on my shoulders, his palms resting against my skin as he gave it a gentle squeeze. His eyes met mine in the reflection of the mirror.

“Happy Birthday, Y/n.” He softly uttered.

He had to have seen the terror that lay underneath my expression. The way my eyes were a little too wide, my expression a little too narrowed, yet he didn’t say anything. He just held my gaze. He remained calm and collected far better than I did, clearly having had done this more than once.

I shifted my attention to the necklace, holding the pendant between my fingertips as I brought it up to study it. There was the image of an greek statue surrounded by litters of flowers. The woman depicted in the pendant held one hand to her chest, the other at her side as he cast her gaze aside. It was a beautiful necklace.

“Persephone.” He suddenly spoke.

I met his gaze in the mirror, confused.

“The woman in the pendant. It’s Persephone. The goddess of growth, fertility and love.”

I shifted my gaze to the pendant once more. His statement made the necklace seem even more beautiful. For a moment I seemed to forget what I had seen in the night before and I was back with the same James I knew before.

My eyebrows furrowed as I remembered his prior words. I had this made for you.

Had I reminded him of Persephone? I knew little of the tales of her and the other Greek gods and goddesses. The face of the woman in the pendant was almost reflective of mine but it was too small to truly tell. Her features became vague with the size of her.

His figure shifted, his hands moving to rest on the chair as his head leaned downwards. His breath was warm against my ear and his eyes held an almost terrifying intensity.

“Tonight, all eyes are going to be on you.”

Those words hung in the air for a moment as he took a small step backwards, his eyes trained on me before he turned away and took slow strides out of the room. I couldn’t tell if those words were just an utterance of mere fact.. or a warning not to try anything stupid like tell my mother what I had seen.

The memory of the nightmare I had last night flickered in my mind and I couldn’t help but picture the entirety of the guests tonight slaughtered at his precise hand for the utterance of a confession. My chest tightened and my eyes began to pool with warmth. I blinked the tears away, letting my head hang as I took in a slow breath.

I clenched the pendant in my hand, holding it tight. I wanted to rip the necklace off and discard it, but I couldn’t find the strength to do so. My hand shook, my lip trembling as my eyes pressed shut. I couldn’t let him ruin this for me. I had dreamt about this night for so long.

Breath.

Just breathe.

Tag list

@i-dont-know78

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@bluewingedangel

@aominewryne

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@pelopsss

[moonstruckme]

woo!! my little mix-up is a mix of in a week ( au character ) and fade into you ( specific reader )!!

poly marauders as royal guards to a sunshine reader? :) if it's not too much trouble

- ✏️

Thanks for requesting my love <3

join the party

bodyguard!marauders x sunshine!reader ♡ 683 words

“Princess.” James wraps a hand around your elbow as you try to go out into the garden, his grip gentle but firm. “Just wait a minute, Remus needs to do a sweep before we can go out.” 

“But it’s leaving!” you cry, gaze fixed on the orange cat slinking into the bushes with something akin to longing. “He’s gonna scare it off!”

Sirius chuckles. “Remus is great with cats, angel. Knowing him, he’ll have the thing sleeping at the foot of his bed by tonight.”

“But where’ll you sleep?” James asks innocently, snickering when Sirius shoves at his shoulder. 

“It’s so cute,” you croon, eyes so heart-shaped James tenses in case you try to bolt for it. “Do you think my mom’ll let me keep it?”

“Think King’s allergic, so no,” Sirius says, squeezing your shoulder in apology. 

“What if we keep it a secret?”

James smiles at you, ready to indulge you in your hopeless fantasy, but then Remus comes back. 

“All clear,” he says seriously, and James nods at him as you rush through the door. 

It never fails to surprise him how quick you are when you want to be, and he and the others have to break into a jog to keep you within a reasonable distance as you dash for the cat, stopping a few feet away so as not to spook it. 

“Don’t do that,” Sirius says breathlessly, but it’s pointless. You’re beyond listening, all your focus on the orange tabby in front of you. 

It hisses as you get closer, and you coo, making little kissy sounds. James tries not to laugh at your obvious desperation, staying back so you can’t blame him when the cat inevitably runs off. 

“Be careful,” Remus warns. “We don’t know if it’s friendly, don’t grab it or anything.” 

“Oh, of course he’s friendly,” you murmur liltingly, advancing toward the cat slowly and low to the ground. “He’s just scared, the poor baby.” Your voice is light and sweet as meringue, and James’ heart turns to mush in his chest at hearing it. You start to extend your hand cautiously, and the tabby tenses, eyeing you warily. “It’s okay, honey, I’m not going to—” you gasp as the cat lashes out with its claws, drawing your arm back reflexively as it dashes into the bushes and out of sight.

Remus had to have been anticipating it, because he’s at your side before James can move, crouching beside you and taking your arm in his hand. He shushes you softly as you call out after the cat, and James exchanges a look with Sirius, waiting for the dark-haired boy to nod in confirmation that he’ll keep watch before James joins Remus beside you. 

“I didn’t even get to pet it,” you say morosely. James frowns at you, patting your shoulder consolingly. 

“He didn’t deserve you, angel,” he says, and Remus tsks as he turns your arm over in his grip, four shallow but long scratches oozing blood down your wrist. 

“Let’s go inside and get you fixed up,” Remus says gently, and he and James help you up, guiding you back towards the palace as you cast forlorn looks behind you. 

“This isn’t a great look for us,” Sirius teases you. “The three of us walking back into the palace with a bleeding princess.” 

You give a little laugh, your usual levity restored instantly by his joking. “It’s not like it’s a grave injury,” you reply, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. “I don’t know why these two are acting like I can’t walk by myself.” 

James chuckles but keeps his hand on your back. “Like Sirius says, it’s not a great look for us. May as well appear to be taking it seriously.” 

“Some guards we are,” Remus agrees lightly. “Can’t even protect you from a feral cat.” 

“He wasn’t feral!” you say defensively. “He was just scared. He’s misunderstood.” 

“Whatever you say, gorgeous.” Sirius shrugs, opening the door for all of you. “All I know is, you’re never getting near an animal again that’s not pre-vetted by one of us. Too risky.” 

[daenysx]

requesting for one 1k celebration (ik it's late and it's totally okay if you decide not to write it, congratulations on it anyway!!) but rockstar!reader with either fan or bodyguard!james??? idk, take this any way you want, i'm giving you the wheel

i loved this request so much and i tried my best so hopefully you'll enjoy!! thank you for requesting, love u♡ you can send james potter requests if you have one!

bodyguard!james potter x rockstar!reader, you and james can't keep your feelings secret anymore

brave enough

you like the hotel room but it's boring to spend all night in.

the concert was quite satisfying and it went smoothly. you know you're getting more and more popular each day; followed by paparazzi almost everywhere, interviewed by important channels that people talk about on twitter, having fan accounts on instagram. you feel a sense of joy and fear at the same time. it's scary to be famous but you enjoy sharing your songs with people, you like the way their eyes shine when you start singing. most of the time you think it's worth being a bit scared.

this is where your security team joins the picture. you are being protected by a team of bodyguards, they are silent but effective. sometimes you feel too important when you walk into a crowded space with the team covering everywhere but most of the time it doesn't feel normal. it feels so silly to be needing protection unlike a normal person. you should be past that. you should realize your position in this world as a famous rockstar and probably should be grateful to these people who never let anything bad happen to you.

shaking redundant thoughts away, you put on some comfy clothes, a pair of shorts and an oversized shirt. you only take your wallet and your phone before leaving the room, airpods tucked nicely in your pocket just in case. you check how you look on the mirror at the bathroom and the sight is just like you imagined, exhaustedly happy with a crooked smile and tired eyes.

you knock on the door across yours. you are sure james will open it in two seconds. he does that exactly but the sight in front of you makes you look at your shoes shyly without thinking- he's shirtless.

"hey." james says, casually. "something wrong?"

he's always asking that firstly, the head of your security team. he's huge, all muscles and tall, you have seen too many comments on instagram saying how hot he looks. well, he does. he really is good looking, you'd have to be blind to not realize it. he has lovely eyes and a big smile when he tries to be comforting, huge hands and a perfect chest. james potter is someone's dream guy, you are sure of it.

"no." you say, eyes still looking anywhere but him. "nothing, i just- i got bored, thought maybe we could go out. you can put on your shirt- if you want, i can wait."

james takes a step back to let you in. you follow his lead, the room smells like his cologne and hints of aftershave. it's making your legs shaky, you sit on the couch as he takes his shirt from the bed and puts it on.

"you wanna go out?" he asks with a gentle voice. things with him has always been this sweet, not like a regular boss-employee relationship. you know he cares about you, he's like a friend who's always been around, who you can always fall in love with if you ever take that dangerous step.

you nod at his question. he puts on his glasses and looks like himself again. "i wanted some fresh air, and i'm a bit hungry. maybe we can get chicken nuggets from the place in the corner?"

james thinks about it for a moment. it feels weird, like you're asking for his permission to go out but it's far from the truth. you need james's opinion before leaving a secure place because he knows the best. he knows the danger, the press, the paparazzi. if he says you should stay in, you probably should listen. still, you're hoping he'll say yes to going out with you.

"i'm sorry, sweetheart." he says. "i think we should stay at the hotel tonight."

"yeah?" you ask. you can't help but feel a bit upset, you are tired because of your busy schedule but you want to hang out sometimes. you want to be anywhere you want any time without worrying. it would be so nice, to be out with james, just eating and drinking. you could tell him all about your new album. you could tell stupid jokes to him, you could make him smile. now that your voice sounds sad, james flinches just a little bit. he comes to your side with a few short steps.

"i'm really sorry." he says. he kneels in front of you to make an eye contact. "you just had a show and i think it's better if we stay out of sight for now."

you nod, give him a smile to let him know it's okay. "i'll go back to my room then. you should get some rest, you've been working all night long."

you stand up to go but james is quicker. he holds your hand, your fingers go lax in his palm. he is on his feet again, looking at you with a promising pair of eyes.

"do you want to stay here? we can order chicken nuggets and sit in the balcony."

the idea is tempting but you really don't want to waste james's resting time. "it's okay, james. you probably should get some sleep before we leave tomorrow morning."

"sweetheart." he says, his voice is so soft you could crumble under it. "please. would you like to spend some time with me?"

you nod this time, how could you resist his sweet voice? james orders take out as you go sit in the balcony, the night air is chill and you can see a few stars. it's quiet and nice, you close your eyes to the breeze you feel on your skin.

james comes in, wearing a hoodie. he has one in his hand too, he gives you the hoodie, hoping you'll accept. you take it, thanking him silently before wearing it. he sits next to you, comfortable silence fills the air as you wait for food. you look so pretty in the hoodie, james almost doesn't hear the knock on the door. he is quick to leave the balcony, shaking his head as if he's trying to stop thinking something he shouldn't.

he comes back with the food and two huge paper cups of iced tea. you help him settle the paper bags down on the little table, he ordered nuggets and different kinds of sauces he's sure you like. you take a sip from your drink, coldness of it gives a relief to your throat. james does the same, you both start eating silently.

maybe it'd be uncomfortable if it were someone else, just sitting and eating without saying much but this is james you are here with. no matter what the situation is his presence is always comforting and warm. you adore how cool he is, how kind.

"so," you start, breaking the silence. "did you enjoy the show tonight?"

james smiles. "of course i did. you know your way around that stage, you know? i always enjoy seeing you sing."

"thank you, james." you say with a soft voice.

"you are-" he starts, "you really are something else."

you stop drinking for a second to see his eyes. he sounds like he's confessing a big secret but it's not the first time james has complimented you, so you are not sure why his voice comes out like that.

"jamie?"

"everything stops when you sing, when you dance on the stage like you always do. i see people's faces, how they admire you, how they follow your every step. my face must look like theirs i believe, just- like your biggest fan."

you give him the loveliest smile you can manage, how dare he says such a beautiful thing? he smiles back, it's full of admiration and pride. he's proud of you, you realize. he's always been around, always been there for you. he's been fierce and brave, faced every little thing that bothered you like the strong man he is. your chest fills with something you can't identify.

"well," you wander around the words. "you're my favorite fan and that puts you in the most special place."

james chuckles, you are losing your mind. you forget everything for a second, who you are and who he is.

"james, i-"

"angel." he says. "it's okay."

he has no right to do that. he has no right to make your heart beat faster and say that it's okay. you feel like you should do something, say something to end this misery. you both stop eating, the wind passes through your hair. james still looks at you with an undeniable affection.

"i'm not trying to mess with your mind, i promise." he says quietly. "but i'm not strong enough to keep everything in me, i just- i'm sorry if i'm making you uncomfortable."

"no, no, of course you're not." you say quickly. "it's just- i don't want to be delusional, james. i don't want to imagine things."

james reaches for your hand. the short distance between you disappears as he leans for your cheek. he gives you the softest kiss, you can't breathe when he does that. he leans back into his chair, your hand still in his hand.

"you're not imagining things." he says. "i don't know if i should be brave enough to tell you something i can't take back."

your fingers move a bit, but james doesn't let go. "you should." you say, firmer than ever. "you should be brave. i believe it's in the job description."

he pulls your hand to himself, makes you stand up and fall back to his lap. your heartbeat goes faster, he holds you gently.

"i'm mad for you." he says, looking deep into your eyes. "i'm willing to take any risk if you want me to. i'd do anything to protect you, and it's not only because i'm your bodyguard."

you settle down on his lap, holding one of his hands and stroking his knuckles. "can i kiss you?" you ask, not too shy but a bit hesitant.

james nods, and he cups your cheek. his thumb rubs your jawline, you cover his lips with yours. the kiss is better than you imagine, he is the only thing in your mind. suddenly, you feel how dangerous he is; you can write hundreds of songs about this kiss, about james. he has the power to invade your mind and he isn't shy about it. he is a fierce kisser, uses his hands and lips in a way that makes you melt.

his tongue meets yours and it's the best thing at that moment. james sucks your bottom lip, he doesn't break the kiss until you pull yourself back. you press small kisses on his cheeks, his sharp jaw is prominent under your mouth. he breathes faster, the tip of his nose rubbing on your cheek.

"what if someone sees us here?" you ask, playfully. his hand around your thigh tightens.

he pushes your hair back. "it's too dark here for anyone to recognize us. do you think i'd put you in that kind of situation?"

his tone matches yours. "i think you'll have to put me in that kind of situation eventually." you say, kissing his lips again. "i'm not worried, james. i like you too much to be worried."

"i'll protect you." he says, so serious and so lovely. "i won't let anybody hurt you."

"i know, baby." you say, and james visibly loves the word baby coming out of your lips.

he can only kiss you more after that. the night is long and it's full of promises, you are both so tired to think. it will be okay, you know that. it should be okay when he kisses you like this, like you are the most precious thing in the world. you kiss him back, trying to be brave enough for his heart. for now, it's good. james will make sure it'll be better.

[buckyalpine]

Bodyguard Bucky x Drunk reader

This little drabble is for an idea from one of my favorite angel babies, its SO CUTE. Might make a longer version of this at some point but for now: 

“Buckyyyy” You clung onto him like a koala, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the heady scent of his cologne. After a drink too many, you were happy to crawl into his lap, tipsy enough to happily wrap yourself around him, though still mostly aware of your surroundings. He remained silent, a classic grumpy scowl on his lips, keeping his eyes straight to the SUV. 

He wrapped his strong arms around you, carrying you and walking to the car, his broad frame keeping you snug against his chest while moving through the crowd with ease. No one stood in his way, immediately moving aside from his facial expression alone. Piercing blue eyes and a clenched jaw daring anyone to make the mistake of coming near you. 

“M’so sleepy” You whined against his neck, letting your hangs cling around his neck, squeezing your legs tighter around his tapered waist. 

“It’s okay pretty girl, I’m taking you home” He murmured, not wasting a second getting you outside and into the all black SUV that was parked at the club entrance. He swallowing thickly when he felt your soft lips press gentle kisses along his neck, the warmth of your breath tickling his skin as he slid into the back seat, nodding to the driver to get going. 

“So handsome” Your nose nudged into his shoulder, burying yourself into him as much as you could, refusing to let him move you from his lap. He spent the entire ride letting you cuddle into him while he held you securely, carefully holding you as he stepped out once you’d reached home. He carried you right to your bedroom, setting you down on your bed. You whined when he tried to pull away, pulling him back, giving him your sweetest pout, glassy and wide. 

“Please don’ go” You mumbled, tucking yourself into him, “Stay? Please?”

How was he supposed to leave you when you were so sweet and cuddly and so utterly adorably drunk. 

“Alright babygirl” He whispered, kissing your forehead, “I gotta get you clean up first through, okay?” He went to you bathroom, well versed in what your night time routine was, making note of the smallest details in everything you did in a day. He found some wipes, and your lotions, bringing them over and gently rubbing the makeup off your face while your mind was still stuck on the name he called you. 

“M’your babygirl?” You asked hopefully, noting the way his cheeks blushed, trying to ignore the way his heart fluttered but it was impossible around you. 

“Always, you’re always my babygirl” He smoothed the cool lotion onto your skin before helping you out of your heels. He convinced you to get changed out of your dress, staying stationed outside of the closet in case you fell over but you were changed seconds later. You came out in an oversized tshirt- his oversized tshirt to be exact, that you’d stolen unbeknownst to him. 

So that’s where it went he shook his head to himself, biting back a smile while you flopped back onto bed, stretching on the covers like a kitten before giving him grabby hands. 

“What is it princess” He knew what you wanted but it went against what he was there for. He had to protect you and to do that he couldn’t ever let his guard down. Not one moment of vulnerability, not when he had to protect you. 

But fuck, you were so utterly irresistible and he’d be lying to himself if he thought there was nothing he felt for you. He came down to tuck you in, hoping the warmth of the blankets would help you sleep but you tugged him into bed instead, wrapping your entire body around him. 

“You’re blushing” you giggled, cupping his scruffy cheek, letting your thumb trace his pink lips. He could help but chuckle, hoping you’d forget all this by morning, letting his fingers trace over your delicate features. 

“You act all grumpy but you’re actually a teddy bear”

He cocked an eyebrow while you tried to copy him, scrunching you brows together instead making him grin. He smoothed the line that formed between your brows, loving the way you continued to contort your face trying to match his grumpy face. 

“A teddy bear, huh?”

“My teddy bear” You sighed contently, snuggling into him, a yawn slipping past your lips. You let the warmth of his arms drift you off to sleep, still smiling as you snored softly. 

“My babygirl” He held you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, allowing himself to fall asleep with you; after all you’d always be safest in his arms. 

[urdepressedslut]

You’re Mine, Sunshine ❝part twelve❞

♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Reality is hitting you as you, Bucky, Steve and his men all venture off to a secret safe house only Steve knows about. The events from the last couple of days are starting to hit you with a sickening force, leaving you weak and crippled.

♡ Warnings: language, angst, fluff, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, sickness, paranoia, death threats, murderous thoughts, stalking, sam and bucky being absolutely my favs

series masterlist

Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Bodyguard!Au Mob!Au

It was almost taunting the way your fingertips thumped, the last skim of your fingers across the book spines in your library. You tried to think of this being bittersweet, but could only find the bitterness of the situation. You were being ripped from your home, because of your Father. You were being forced to flee your house because of his sick and twisted mind, somewhere in his head he thought he was doing right by going after you. You couldn't even stomach the thought for too long, the mere mention of your Father's hatred towards enough to send you into a spiral.

The outside world passed by through your unfocused gaze. The buildings lessening and the trees getting denser. You weren't for sure where you were headed, but as long as Bucky was the one guiding you there— you didn't care.

"Hey." Bucky's voice brought you back to reality.

The dark and suffocating thoughts floating away as his smooth voice broke through the haze. You took more time than usual, taking in his expression briefly before responding.

"Hi James." You whispered, scooting closer to his side, tightening your hold on his hand.

His face dropped, his eyes softening at your vulnerable state. He wrapped his arm around your frame, tucking you closer to his side. The warmth from his body heated your own, your heartbeat slowing almost immediately from the feeling.

"You doing alright?" He asked, his eyes not breaking from your face, trying to catch every twitch and shift in your expression.

You forced a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes and nodded regardless of your inner struggles.

"I'm hanging in there. How much longer?" You reassured him, sneaking a peak out the window, only to find the thick forest.

"Not too much longer. We're headed to a safe house— one that only Steve knows about." He told you.

You furrowed your brows in curiosity.

"You've never been there?" You asked him, and he shook his head.

"No, but the less people that know— the better. Your Father won't be able to find you there." He told you.

You nodded and turned back towards the window, rubbing your thumb over the metal ridges on his hand.

"You'll stay with me right?" You whispered, your doubts getting the best of you.

He gently grabbed your chin, turning you towards him. His eyes shined with intense passion, a strong sense of genuineness within them.

"The whole time. I'm not going anywhere, okay?" He promised and your anxieties vanished.

Your chest warmed comfortably, the safety he provided from his presence alone enough to calm you. You appreciated it greatly.

"Okay."

His eyes softened at your small voice, the urge to wrap you up in his arms overwhelming.

“C’mere.” He voiced, pulling you even closer.

You hugged around his body, burying your face into his chest. His body blocked you from the outside world, muting the chaos for a moment. It was peaceful and you felt powerful against him— like no one could hurt you.

The rumble of the car and Bucky’s heartbeat lulled you to sleep. There wasn’t a place you felt more comfortable in, than his arms. You couldn’t help but doze off with his arms caging you protectively.

~

“We’re here doll.” Bucky whispered, earning a sleepy groan from you.

You snuggled your face deeper into his body and had him chuckling, gently pulling you away from him, his metal hand smoothing down your now messy hair.

“You can sleep when we get inside, okay?” He told you, earning another incoherent groan.

You perked up, forgetting the situation completely in your dreamless sleep. You forgot for just a moment that your Father was practically hunting you. The whole mess crashes into you yet again, you weren’t tired anymore with the sudden sick feeling in your stomach. In fact, you tensed up— a wave of nausea approaching.

Without responding, you followed Bucky out of the car— hanging onto his arm. You weren’t sure if it was from nerves or the sudden dizzy spell that came over you.

You hoped it wasn’t a panic attack that your body was brewing.

Although you were new to these attacks, having gone most of your life without them— you couldn’t help but be terrified of them. The lack of control you had when one was happening, you were afraid of what would happen if you had a really severe one.

Your grip tightened on his arm and he glanced down at you, taking note of your unfocused wide eyes, face paling with a tinge of green.

He was immediately on edge, hurrying his steps up the cabin estate. It was a secluded wooden house in the middle of nowhere— it looked intimidating from the outside. The fear of being stranded present, but it was a safe house. He had to remind himself.

She was safe here. He told himself.

Steve entered the house first, you and Bucky following after— Steve’s men scoped the area, staying on alert for any danger.

“You guys will be safe here. The kitchen is stocked with food, as well as more food down in the basement.” He informed you two, although the way you were staring blankly ahead— Steve knew he was basically talking to Bucky.

Bucky furrowed his brows at the news that the kitchen was stocked— the basement too?

Steve seemed to read his mind.

“Have known about this place for awhile, just never knew I’d actually be using it. Asked my men to stock the place before we headed out here.” Steve said.

Bucky felt a wave of great appreciation flow through him, Steve was really doing the most and he was lucky to have him as a friend.

“Thanks man, we appreciate it.” He spoke for the both of you— to which you didn’t mind considering your lack of words.

“Just try and lay low— Pierce and Rumlow are going to be finding out that his daughter and her bodyguard are missing very soon— as well as the whole perimeter squad.” Steve told him, making fear bloom in his chest.

Bucky swallowed, knowing this was just the beginning.

“Where are you all going to be staying? You don’t seem to be eager in moving in.” Bucky wondered, noticing the lack of moving in that was happening.

Steve waved him off like it was no big deal.

“Truthfully, we all aren’t built for sleep.” He tried to joke. “We have a small shed just behind the house, that’s where we will be keeping our stuff. Where we will take cover if we need to— but otherwise we got a house to guard.”

Bucky nodded in appreciation again and a part of him wondered if Steve was trying to redeem himself after judging you all too quickly. Despite it being a shitty thing, he didn’t think Steve realized just how forgetting you were. You’d see Steve as a good man any day, even with his rough start.

“And you…” Steve said lastly, glancing down to you before back up to him, “You got a girl to protect.”

Steve reminded him that not only was he here with you willingly, he was also doing his job to protect you. Things were different now though, he was protecting you from the bottom of his heart— not for the man that hired him.

Bucky wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. He ended up having to protect you from the person that hired him to you.

Steve left without another word and it left Bucky alone with you. He found you rather quiet, clinging onto him with white knuckles as you continued to space out.

“Hey… (Y/n)…” Bucky got your attention, your eyes focusing on his.

He noticed you still had this sickly green to your usual healthy glow, his brows furrowed in concern.

“Doll, you okay? You look like you’re about ready to fall over.” He pointed out, making sure he worded it correctly.

You nodded slowly and wiped a hand across your clammy forehead, agreeing with him that you weren’t feeling too hot. You weren’t sure if this was anxiety or if you were coming down with something— either way you felt like shit.

“Yeah, I’m not feeling too good. Think I just need to lie down.” You mumbled, leaning into him as you felt yourself sway on the balls of your feet.

Bucky felt your weight press into him. He felt his heart twinge at the way your voice sounded so weak and unsure. He knew you had been through way more than anyone could handle in the last couple of days— but he couldn’t help but be angry for you. You deserved better and he would think that until the day came where you got the perfect life he knew you deserved.

“Okay, let’s get you to bed.” He told you softly.

You nodded weakly and closed your eyes as another dizzy spell passed through you, making you out all your weight on him. He didn’t hesitate scoop you up into his arms, in the moment worsening the dizzy spell— but after you settled into his arms, the feeling washed away slightly and you melted into his embrace.

“I got you, just close your eyes.” He whispered and you didn’t waste a second and followed his commands.

You were almost lulled to sleep by his strong heartbeat thumping against your cheek, the way his warmth eased the chills you felt.

He had made it to the bedroom, placing you down onto the queen sized bed gently, making sure to pull the blankets back before placing you in.

You didn’t even open your eyes and sent him a weak smile, grabbing onto his wrist before he could move away. Bucky smiled at your tiny hand gripping onto him.

“I’m going to get you some medicine doll, get you a glass of water. Okay?” He told you, his voice ever so soft when speaking to you.

You nodded and let go of his hand, letting it sit on your chest. Your head pulled to the side and your smile started to fade as your exhausted, stressed brain turned off.

Bucky let himself gaze down at you for another moment, getting lost in you. His mind swirled around you constantly and if he wasn’t thinking about you— he wasn’t thinking at all.

He left quietly after he noticed you were out. You needed the rest— considering you’d be up tossing and turning later. His heart hurt for you, all you had to go through recently.

Exiting the room, and shut the door and glanced the the left— noticing Sam standing there.

“Brought some goodies.” He announced and it was then Bucky glanced down at his arms.

He was holding a little bowl of soup and had a glass of water and pills in his other hand. Bucky wipes the annoyed expression off his face and for the first time— appreciated Sam being here. Although he wouldn’t admit that.

“Thanks.” He said quietly, taking the goodies out of his hands.

Sam kept a smirk on his face, but it wasn’t his usual teasing one. It was soft and kind.

“You guys are adorable.” Sam said.

Bucky looked at him with an angry squinted expression, so many words on the tip of his tongue but he held himself back.

Sam wanted to laugh at Bucky’s wild expression but waved him off and held back his giggles.

“I overheard you talking to her. No judgement here— I think it’s sweet you actually are nice to someone.” Sam jabbed, and Bucky rolled his eyes.

Of course Sam had to give a compliment while still messing with him— all in one go.

“Okay well, try not to be a creep next time.” Bucky muttered lowly.

“Hey! I was dropping some much needed supplies off— so you’re welcome.” Sam added. turning and walking away, down the stairs to the living space.

Bucky sent one last glare his way until he was out of view. Somewhere deep down in his grumpy soul— he appreciated Sam.

Ew... he hated even thinking the thought.

Shaking his head clear, he headed back inside to you. He was surprised to find you sitting up and leaning back against eh headboard— last he saw you, you were out cold. While he was happy to see your eyes, he hated the way they were so dull. Your whole being looking mentally exhausted— and he wished he could take it all away.

"Hey, you can sleep if you want. I'll stay here with you." He reminded you, thinking that maybe you woke up and panicked that he wasn't there.

You nodded and scooted over, patting the spot next to you.

"Lay with me?" You asked, your voice hoarse and tired.

He softened his gaze, and placed the supplies down and quickly got in bed with you. Slipping off his shoes and jacket before cuddling up next to you.

"Thank you James. I don't know what I'd do without you." You whispered, laying against his chest while he looped his arms around you— holding you close.

"You don't even have to think about that possibility, because I'm never gonna leave you (Y/n)." He whispered back, smoothing your hair down and rubbing your back soothingly.

"I know you won't... but my Fath— Pierce may split us apart." You voiced your fear.

It happened to be Bucky's too, with th way his arms tightened around you protectively. He just couldn't bear that thought for too long or he'd start to panic. He knew it was smart to digest the thought because it was very much possible— which was terrifying.

"He can try." Was the only thing Bucky could come up with.

But it seemed to bring massive comfort to you, as you hugged him tighter, burying your face into his chest and lulling off to sleep without another word. He breathed in your scent, relishing the way your body was fitting perfectly against his. In different circumstances, he'd be at ease— but the anxiety always ate away at him with the threat over your head.

He only assumed the fury that would ignite the second Pierce noticed you were gone. It made him shiver.

~

Pierce stood in your bedroom, holding up a dainty frame— a picture and you and your Mother inside. His lip snarled and twitched at the sight, the way his heart started to pound— his vision turning red.

Pierce yelled out, throwing the picture frame across the room— the delicate piece shattering against the grooved wall. The pieces scattered amongst the room, the high pitched trickle of wood and glass fading away. The only sound left in the room was his heavy breathing.

The door clicked open and shut, and without turning around— Pierce could tell who it was just by the footsteps.

“Seems we have a runaway on our hands.” Rumlow acknowledged.

Pierce scoffed, struggling his posture and fixing his suit and tie, adjusting his cuffs back to normal after his outburst.

“Ungrateful little bitch thinks she can hide from me— run from me.” He muttered under his breath.

“Seems we’ve got some traitors too. Didn’t know Rogers had it in him to go against you like that.” He pointed out, only making Pierce shake his head in betrayal and anger.

“Should’ve known Rogers would stick by Barnes— two were close before working for me. I knew that and still took a chance.” He voiced his frustration.

Rumlow nodded his head, remembering Bucky all too well— so many memories he loved to look back on. Although he couldn’t say the same about Bucky.

“Overall— I wouldn’t worry sir,” Rumlow started, holding onto Pierce’s shoulder with confidence, “I’m always down for a hunt.”

Pierce and Rumlow smirked at each other before breaking into an evil laugh, both of their sick and twisted minds coming together to bring you hell.

Pierce wondered how long you could stay hidden, and he couldn’t wait for the day he found you. Ending things once and for all.

His dear beloved daughter.

< TAGLIST IS OFFICIALLY CLOSED >

[luveline]

hi! i loved you’re bodyguard james au sm! could i request something super fluffy with bodyguard james, maybe reader getting ready for bed and james doting on her <3

omg yes of course, thank you for your request! some mutual pining with bodyguard!james x fem!reader

"Do you think it's silly, sometimes, that you have to wait outside my door?" you ask James, hip popped against the doorframe, tired and lagging and wanting his attention.

He's thankfully deigned to turn to you, though his position is ramrod straight. "Not really."

"I understand when I'm out of bounds, but... you know, my door locks."

"You know as well as I do a lock won't stop some people."

"How about two locks?"

"Enough," he says. There's so much fondness there that you step forward. James gives you a stern look, which might be intimidating because of his general tall, lean shape if he were anyone else but himself. "Go get ready for bed."

"You can't boss me around," you say, and then turn into your room to get ready for bed anyhow. His laugh follows you.

You leave the door open and James doesn't move to close it. It's nice to have his company, to hear the lightest echo of his breathing. You live in such a quiet house, you'd almost think it was you and James alone.

But you're never alone.

"Jamie?" you ask, shrugging out of your soft cardigan.

He hums rather than answer.

"Do you get tired?" you ask, ducking down to look in the vanity's mirror.

You start to pull the jewellery from your hair one glimmering gem at a time, and then pull off the heavy, elegant chain of your necklace. Both easy enough. It's the bracelet you struggle with; the catch isn't manoeuvrable with only one hand.

"Sometimes. You know somebody swaps with me at one though? I don't stand here all night."

You approach him with a little more shyness than before and offer your wrist. "Can you help?"

His fingers slide over your skin obligingly.

"You work such long shifts. One to one. That's twelve whole hours. Don't you think that's excessive?"

"I'm head of your team. It's my job."

The bracelet unclips. James lowers it into your open palm, where it pools. A snake of tiny gems. You close your fingers around it.

"You don't think it's hurting you, all this working?"

"Pajamas."

You huff and head back into your room, dropping your bracelet into the mirrored tray you keep on your vanity. You'll put it away properly tomorrow in the safe jewellery box, but for tonight it'll live with your clips and chains.

"It doesn't hurt me," James says.

"Do you get all the sleep you need?"

"Eight solid hours."

You know he eats enough. He swaps out sometimes with other people to eat lunch, but usually he just eats it with you when you ask, and you always do. It doesn't exactly fit any professional boundaries.

James is your friend.

Maybe.

You grab some clean underwear and pyjamas and change right there in the middle of your room. James won't peek. If he did you wouldn't care. "You have enough time to yourself?" you ask.

"Interested in my private life?" he asks. You can hear his smile, his suggestive eyebrow raise.

"It's more hours than anyone should work, is all. Maybe you could change to eight."

"Ah, trying to get rid of me," he corrects himself.

You push your arms through the sleeves of a dainty nightgown and laugh. "Absolutely I am."

"Have to try harder than this."

You neaten the skirt and frown at your legs, wondering if they look a little dry, and decide some body lotion won't hurt. "Mandarin or lavender?" you call.

"You said the mandarin one made you itchy, last time."

"But it smells really good."

"That's the lotion eating at your skin."

You wrinkle your nose and bend at the waist to moisturise your legs. You wish you could brag and say it was an erotic, film worthy affair. It's mostly a scrabbling of your palms up and down. You sigh and work it up your thighs until you're soft to touch all over.

"If I weigh it up," he says suddenly, seriously, more serious than you're expecting, "it's less work to take longer shifts with you. I'd rather spend the hours watching you than orchestrating other people to watch you... I quite like looking after you."

He clears his throat. "Not that I look after you," he says.

You pad out into the hallway. James has turned his back to you. His arm tenses almost imperceptibly under your hand as you reach for his elbow.

"You definitely look after me." His skin is smooth. It's so hot under your touch that you can feel it moving up into the heels of your palms.

"It's my job," he says.

You'd thought about kissing his arm. Thought about it. His comment snaps you into reality. A goodnight kiss in any form at all would be inappropriate. He might like his job, but it's still a job.

"Where would you be, if you didn't have to work?" you ask.

"Come and stand in front of me," he says gently.

You do as he says. His eyes follow over your outfit. You let yourself believe his expression softens, though your logical head knows it's not the truth. James might be sweet on you, and he may even know how you feel about him, but that's where it all ends. He doesn't like you. He's paid to be here.

"What are you thinking?" he asks.

"That my socks aren't doing their job. Is it cold in here?"

"What are you really thinking?"

He's very patient with you when it comes to stuff like this. It's confusing, because James has about as much patience as you have subtlety.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"I'm okay."

"Well, you look lovely. What an incredibly short nightgown," he praises amorously.

You flush with heat but decide you'll feed into his dramatics rather than tell him what's really wrong with you, stepping back to do a clumsy spin. "Picked it with you in mind, handsome."

"Yeah? Anything else?"

You gasp. "You overstep your station, good sir."

"I can't be blamed. You always look your softest before bed."

Your breath catches. You stop your flaunting and flouncing abruptly to look into his warm face. He looks to you, letting his arms fall from their crossed position to either side of his defined chest. Your eyes flit between his beauty mark. One to the left of his hawk-shaped nose, one below his lashes, three down his left cheek.

It's weird to want someone and have them this close, and know you will probably never, ever have them.

"If I didn't have to work," James says, face as impassive as his stance, a closed book. "I'll show you."

He holds out his hand. You don't take it. He thrusts it forward again.

When you finally give James your own, he spends a moment rubbing the back of it with his thumb like he's never felt it before.

He leads you into your room. He's been in here before, of course, but still, it's a lot to be led. You don't have a clue what he's doing, you think Oh, he's taking me to bed. But he skirts around it and brings you to the first window, pulling the curtains to one side.

He points. "See there?"

You follow his finger. "The gates?"

"The gates."

"James, I don't understand."

"That's where I'd be, if I didn't have to work. They probably wouldn't let me in, but I'd wait right there by the gates for you."

"That's not funny," you murmur.

"I'm not joking."

You grow very still. James drops his hand into the curve of your neck and follows it over the slope of your shoulder. It's affectionate, sweet, and very, very soothing.

His lips touch the side of your head, though it might be accidental. You're tired enough to imagine he's kissed you. "Brush your teeth, shortcake. And then bed. You have a long day tomorrow."

"Oh, don't remind me," you mumble.

"Okay, I won't."

He squeezes your shoulder one last time, clears his throat, and returns to his post. You brush your teeth and try not to sneak glances at the back of his head through the gap of the ensuite door.