#bodyguard drabble

[comatosebunny09]

Imagine being snuggled up in bodyguard!Leon’s arms whilst in your bed, and he can’t stop kissing you. Not that you’re complaining, having wanted this for a long time.

You’re greedy. Want a little more than your hands and legs twined together and his lips gently ghosting over yours. You’re not entirely sure how to ask for more, though. Don’t want to scare him off since you’ve only just given in to your feelings last night.

“It’s bad enough that I’m kissing you,” he husks against your mouth, a dimpled smile cresting over his face. “Touching you like this. Your dad’ll murder me if he finds out.”

You pout, toying with the fabric of his collar. Lure him into another succulent kiss, savoring the flavor of his lips and the hoarse, pleased sound he pours into you.

“Don’t care,” you rasp, lashes fluttering, lips parted and wet. “Want this. Want you.”

Leon chuckles something abrasive, your cheek soft and doughy in his palm. His smile is boyish, eyes creased and shining. “Don’t be greedy,” chastises the blond between each sticky grind of your lips. “At least buy me dinner before you try to get my pants off.”

You laugh in the space between your mouths. Busy your thumb with skating over his plush bottom lip, entranced by the elasticity of it. Dinner doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, you muse, venturing in for another taste.

[moonstruckme]

Hi!! Could you do a Bodyguard!James Potter x reader where he is guarding her during a high profile event and something happens? With a bit of angst to fluff? If you’re comfortable of course! I hope you have a wonderful day, i’m new to your page and ADORED your bodyguard james. <3

Thanks for requesting lovely <3

cw: guns, shooting

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You shift your stance a bit and have to bite down on a whimper. 

“I’m going to have to throw these shoes out after this,” you mutter to James. “I’m pretty sure there’s blood pooling around my toes.” 

“You wanna take them off?” he murmurs back, lips barely moving as he keeps his face in a mask of businesslike impassivity. 

You sigh. “I wish.” 

“You could. Just step out of them, no one’s looking over here.” 

It’s true. Every camera in the chamber is pointed to where your mom stands on the podium, her right hand raised as she takes her oath. As much as you hate coming to these things, you can’t ignore the kernel of pride shining behind your sternum. She’s waited so long for this day, dealt with so much opposition, and now she’s finally going to be able to enact some real change. You can keep up appearances for her. 

“I’d better not risk it,” you tell James. “With my luck, the second I do—” 

You’re on the ground before you even register the sound of glass shattering. James’ grip on your shoulder is harsh, almost painful, but the noise that follows has enough adrenaline spiking your bloodstream to forget about that. The loud, rapid popping of gunfire fills the chamber. 

James’ hand moves to clasp around your elbow, but you tear away from him, headed in the opposite direction. The podium is empty. Where’s your mom? Did they get her already? Is she hurt? Did she—

You’re not fast enough to outpace James, definitely not limping around in your heels, and he gets an arm around your waist, hauling you away from the center aisle. You can’t tell where the gunfire is coming from—who has the guns?—but he pushes your head down before you can look. A low buzzing burrows into your ears. You try again to go to where you last saw your mom, but James yanks you back to his side, a cutting “Stop” hissing past his lips. Any other time, a tone like that would have you stilling like a frightened bunny, but you know he’s not the danger here. 

When you don’t listen, he lifts you off the ground. The crowd is swarming, frantic and disorganized, but James maneuvers through it expertly, running down the hall until he finds an unlocked door. The bathroom door swings open for you, and James sets you down quickly, locking it before you have a second to recover. 

You lunge for the door anyway, only for twin bands to wrap around your middle. They pin your arms to your sides and press you securely to James’ front. 

“Stop. Stop it.” His tone is as hard as his grip, dispassionate to your struggling. “You cannot fight me when you’re in danger, understand?” 

“They’re not here for me,” you plead. Your voice is scratchy with desperation. 

“No, but I am. I’m here for you.” His hold tightens, but now it’s less a restraint than a comfort. You can feel his heavy breaths tickling past your ear. “Your mom has her own detail, okay? She made it out before we did, they probably have her somewhere safe.” 

Now you can hear your breathing too. Short, stilted pants that wheeze in and out of you. You think you might be shaking. 

“That’s enough,” James says gently, starting to lower you both to the ground. Your knees give easily, relinquishing your weight to his hold until he settles you both on the tiled floor. “That’s enough, alright? Can I let you go now?” 

You’re not sure you want him to anymore, but you nod. He slips out from behind you, checking the lock on the bathroom door and then removing his gun from the holster at his hip. The sight of it makes your trembling worsen. He checks something with it while murmuring to the people on the other end of his earpiece, convoluted jargon you’ve long since ceased paying attention to. 

“She’s fine,” he says after a minute. “Your mom. They got her into an office, and now we’re all just waiting for security to clear the building before we can go.” 

You drop your head to your knees, relief like a tidal wave washing over you. You hear James’ footsteps move back toward you before his big hand lands on your head. It smooths down your hair as he squats next to you. When you glance at his gun balanced on his knee, he catches the look. 

“I have to keep this out for now,” he says, looking you in your eyes like he’s making a promise, “but the safety’s staying on unless someone tries to come in here. Okay?” 

“Yeah.” You nod, still trying to get your breathing under control. 

James strokes your head again, his touch weighty and reassuring. The noise outside of the bathroom seems to be lessening, but you’re not sure how much sound is blocked by the door. There could be shooting still happening just past it, people hurt or dying in the halls. 

“I’m sorry for fighting you so hard,” you say quietly. 

James blows out a breath. “I get it,” he admits. “In those situations, it’s natural to freak out and head toward the person you want to keep safe.” He flashes you a little smile. “I’m lucky it’s already my job to do that.” You grimace back, but his expression grows serious again when he says, “You just have to keep your head, though, you know? The whole reason you and your mom have protection is to make sure someone else is already looking out for you. You don’t need to worry about her, you just need to trust me.” 

You look at him. His body is still taut, ready for a fight if one comes to him, but his expression is gentle. It’s easy to forget it’s his job to take care of you when he seems to do it so naturally. Caring emanates from James like it’s the core component of his soul. 

“I do trust you,” you tell him. 

His mouth slants, expression unbearably fond. “I know, sweetheart. We’ll work on those instincts, okay? I get that it’s not an easy adjustment to make.” 

“Have you ever had to do that? Run away from the person you cared about the most?” 

He shakes his head. “Like I said, I’m lucky. I always get to run towards you.”

[ddejavvu]

okay but bodyguard!hotch falling for the biggest bookworm ever, like he can watch her for hours reading by her favourite spot at the window, overlooking the gardens and rain and he loves reading to her before she falls asleep on his lap 🥹🥹🥹

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

--

You're too immersed in the novel you're reading to hear Aaron's footsteps approach from behind, but you feel his large hands smooth over your shoulders, fingertips digging into the tense muscles there.

"You make my job too easy," He murmurs, keeping his voice quiet so as not to disrupt your serenity, "Have you moved all morning?"

"No," You grin sheepishly up at him, "I lost track of time."

"You always do that," His beaming smile is equally as sweet as the romance woven into the story you're reading is, and you feel the same butterflies as the main character does when Aaron's hands slide up your neck to cup your chin.

He holds your head up to face him as he stares down at you, your scalp pinned to his shirt. He squishes gently at your cheeks, "Lunch is ready. I thought you'd come and be my taste-tester again."

"Sorry," You hum, sure that he can feel the vibrations of your voice where he's still holding your throat, "I didn't hear you in the kitchen. You don't have to cook for me, y'know? You're not getting paid for that."

"I'm getting paid to do nothing," He teases, kneading more at the flesh of your cheeks with his large thumbs, "You sit in the window all day, I feel like I'm catsitting. I'm happy to make you lunch, otherwise I think you'd get too lost in your reading to eat."

You feel your cheeks heat up at his gentle teasing, and you're sure he does too. You slide your bookmark between the pages that you're on, standing when he finally releases your face from his warm grip.

"What are we eating?" You let him take your hand, trailing after him from the sitting room into the kitchen.

"You're eating soup," He leads you to your place at the table, another placemat across from you, though there's no bowl on top of the fabric. "I already ate."

"Aaron, I'm sorry," You look up at him with a mournful fret in your eyes, "I didn't mean to starve you. I- I'm glad you ate, but next time if you're hungry you don't have to eat alone, you can just come and get me."

"Relax." He tells you, his large hands covering your own as he pulls your chair out for you, easing you into the seat, "I ate first so that I could read to you while you have your meal, honey."

"You want to read to me?" You tilt your head to the side, "I'm reading one of those cheesy romance novels. Mass-market paperback."

"I like cheesy romance," He inspects the back cover of the book you hadn't noticed him smuggle from the sitting room, "Ooh, 'Marilyn's bodyguard has dark eyes and a penchant for holding her hand.' Sounds like a good setup," Aaron grins at you where your face must be burning hotter than the steaming soup in front of you, "What made you choose this one?"

[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.

[lovelyjj]

Bodygaurd!jj with kook!reader. Hear me out at first when he gets the job he thinks she’s a spoiled brat but she’s the complete opposite. So when he first meets her he’s being really mean and she doesn’t know why. It’s a lot I know 😭😭😭

omg bodyguard!jj are you kidding?!!?! so hot! please send more bodyguard!jj ideas or concepts!

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Your parents hired a bodyguard because they felt like you needed one. You were a kook princess, rich and wealthy with a heart of gold. Who knows who would try and take advantage of you or harm you in anyway.

You accepted it, realizing that your parents were only trying to protect you. You weren’t thrilled but you came to terms with it. Having a bodyguard felt like you were an actual princess.

When you first met your bodyguard you were taken back. He wasn’t very nice to you and you had no idea why.

“Hi I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” you greeted him.

“I’m JJ, but you can call me Mr. Maybank,” He grumbled.

“Oh. Okay,” you smiled trying to remain friendly.

“Well I was planning on going shopping today,” you continued.

“Of course you were,” JJ rolled his eyes.

You frowned, not sure what you did wrong to make him be so rude.

The mall was fairly crowded. You dragged JJ from store to store and he grumpily followed you around. You tried on a handful of clothes and asked JJ’s opinion which he grumbled out a “It looks terrible.”

When you were at the food court JJ let his opinions break free.

“Do you really need more clothes?” JJ scoffed.

“Probably not but isn’t it fun to shop?” you asked.

“No.” JJ deadpanned.

“Why are you such a grump?” you asked.

“Because you’re an entitled self-centered bitch.” JJ insulted.

“Oh,” you sniffled, “Um ok don’t know why you felt the need to say that but thanks for the honesty I guess.”

JJ crossed his arms and didn’t reply.

You didn’t want JJ to see you upset so you put on your brave face. You didn’t know why JJ was being so mean but it hurt your feelings. How were you supposed to get along with him with his attitude. He was your bodyguard for christ sakes, he was going to be with you all the time.

JJ truly believed what he said. He thought you were a spoiled brat. And that couldn’t be further from the truth but he didn’t care to find that out. JJ was stubborn and he was set in his ways, but he couldn’t deny you were pretty.

When you were done shopping you got a text from your mom asking if you could get groceries. You said yes of course because that’s the kind of person you are. Reliable, trustworthy, selfless.

You arrived at the store with JJ by your side.

You felt a little defeated because of JJ’s attitude towards you. But you did your best to remain positive. You went down the aisles shopping for all the items on the list your mom texted you.

JJ followed you around the store making sure you were safe because that’s his job. JJ huffed and puffed as he helped you shop still set in his ways that you’re a spoiled brat.

When you got all the things on the list JJ helped load the groceries into the car. You were walking in the street to the passenger door when a car came out of no where. JJ pushed you out of the way and held you on the sidewalk.

“Jesus christ are you trying to get yourself killed?” He yelled.

“No,” you mumbled.

“Watch out where you’re going, ok?” JJ scolded.

“Thanks for saving me Mr. Maybank” you said.

“It was nothing,” JJ shrugged.

Your bodyguard was mean to you and you didn’t have a clue why. You were hoping that one day you would get along. You had hope. Maybe just maybe your bodyguard might surprise you.

[ink-n-shadowfiction]

Pure Filth | bodyguard!Simon "Ghost" Riley

pairing: bodyguard!Simon "Ghost" Riley x rockstar!reader (link to all works in this au)

genre: suggestive??? slight smut (minors—DNI)

word count: 504

warning: dom!Ghost, slightly brat!reader, strong language, mentions of exhibitionism, no actual smut but it's sexual okay

note: no one asked for this but i delivered (i promise i'll put this au in order on my masterlist sometime)

the first show of your very first headlining tour was a big milestone for you. you’d been dreaming of this moment ever since you were a little kid—ever since you knew you wanted to be a music artist. and ghost knew that.

you were busy rushing around your dressing room, which was a flurry with your makeup artist, your stylist, and some of your band members scurrying about before showtime.

ghost was where he usually was—in the very back corner of the room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and blue eyes darkened by the edge of his skull mask. his gaze was focused solely on you, eyes unknowingly trailing your body and taking in the skin tight leather stretched over your hips.

and god were the thoughts in his head pure filth.

“hey ghost.” you rushed over after your makeup artist finished her work, smoothing your hands over your outfit as you stood a few feet away from him. “how does it look?”

ghost simply hummed in approval, his chin dipping in a silent nod as he tried to focus anywhere except the leather on your bottom half. “y’look fine, dove. now stop runnin’ around like a chicken with your bloody head cut off.”

it sounded a bit harsh with the thick accent woven between the syllables, but ghost needed you to get away from him. he was this close to dragging you over to the coat closet in the dressing room and completely destroying you before your first headline show. he didn’t even trust himself to wait until the other people in the room filed out of the room.

your lip puffed out in a bit of a pout, arms coming to cross over your chest. “no need to be mean. m’just trying to show you how pretty i look.”

oh you knew. ghost knew you knew. the way he adjusted his leaning body against the wall, kicking one leg over the other to hide the hard on plumping up in his black cargo pants. how his arms tightened against his chest to prevent himself from reaching out to touch you.

to everyone else in the room, ghost simply looked like…ghost. rough, intimidating, almost predatory. his skull mask and balaclava did a good job of hiding his emotions, but you could see right through it and noticed the storm swirling in his eyes.

“what’s wrong, ghost?” you asked teasingly with a rather coy smile, taking a slow step forward so you were stood right in front of him. “y’seem…on edge.”

ghost’s eyes narrowed as he peered down at you, body growing even more rigid as he clicked his tongue. tsk, tsk, tsk. “be careful, dove. m’not in the mood for your little games today.

he suddenly leaned down until his masked mouth was right next to your ear, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

“i'm not afraid to take you into that closet and ravish that little body of yours while everyone else here listens. don’t play with me, dove.”

[sweetercalypso]

MORE BODYGUARD!ABBY PLEASEEE

mdni, 18+ only; oral (reader rec.), pet names

Bodyguard!Abby is your biggest fan and she’s always the first person you share good news with. Any time you get a job offer or you’re nominated for an award, you celebrate by grabbing a big bottle of champagne and heading over to see your favorite girl.

Bodyguard!Abby is also the first person you share bad news with because she’s so good at making you feel better. When a nasty rumor gets spread or your newest movie gets a bad reception, Abby’s always there to comfort you.

When you come over crying one day because you got rejected from a big role, she wraps you in a tight hug and says “I’m so sorry sweetheart. If there’s anything I can do to make you feel better, just say the word.”

You pull back and look at her with watery eyes, still sniffling and wiping away tears and you’re like “… anything?”

And that’s how you end up riding bodyguard!Abby’s face for the first time.

She’s a very reserved person, so you’re surprised to see her so eager to put her mouth on you when you tell her what you need. She’s on the bed and pulling you overtop her before you can dry the tears from your face, muttering every sinful thought that crosses her mind.

“Just need my tongue, don’t you baby? Always gonna take care of you, pretty girl — it’s my job.”

[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.”

[bangtanficsforyou]

Kiss it Better (JJK)

Pairing: Bodyguard! Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst, smut, fluff.

Au: Bodyguard au.

Summary: You know you shouldn't be falling for Jungkook, the man who's in charge of your security. But you can't help it. You have already fallen for him. The fact that you know he doesn't feel the same for you, makes things all the more difficult. 

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Curse words, smut.

You have no idea how things escalated this quickly. 

One moment, you are happily enjoying the club music and dancing with your date and the very next moment you are pinned against the wall with your said date's hands around your neck. Not the kinky way.

"It was much easier than I thought it would be." He mumbles with his face inches away from yours. "Miss Y/L/N, such a sweetheart you are playing right into my game."

As he speaks, you notice the absence of the smell of alcohol from his breath.

You both had agreed on getting drunk and letting it loose. But it's now that you realise that you were the one who was getting drunk while he was only pretending to take shots. It was all pre-planned so that you put your guard down which would only give him the perfect opportunity to shoot his shot. Which is exactly what he's doing right now.

The realisation itself is enough to sober you up.

"Now that you are right where I want you to be-", his grip on your neck gets tighter and a hard frown replaces the cruel smile on his lips, "-you have two options. You either be the good girl I know you can be and do everything I say or we can have it the hard way." 

A cold shiver runs down your spine at the various possibilities of what this man can do to you but you try your best to hide it. 

Your attempt, however, seems futile.

"Scared?" He whispers, with a sadistic undertone. 

You know better than to answer any of his questions, so instead of replying to him, you keep mum hoping this nightmare will soon be over.

Your quietness possibly triggers something inside him and his grip on your neck gets even tighter. "You bitch, I want you to answer-"

His sentence gets cut off abruptly and the next thing you know, he's lying on the ground and groaning in pain. 

Your eyes snap from his crouched body to figure out what or who might be the cause of your attacker's current state.

Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. The man who's in charge of your security. 

Words can't describe how relieved you feel to see him but underneath that relief and gratitude, there's also a sense of genuine surprise because he shouldn't be here. No one knows you are here.

"Jungkook, what are you doing here?" You ask, a little breathless because of the tight hold the man had on your throat only a few seconds ago.

"I should be the one asking you that question." Jungkook answers without looking at you, his eyes locked on the man who's now surrounded by at least three more men. Each wearing black suits similar to the ones of Jungkook.

"Take good care of him." He instructs and then turns towards you. "Car is waiting for us, let's go." 

As he waits for you to start walking, your mind starts reeling. Everything is happening too fast for your mind to process. Seconds ago, you didn't know what would happen to you, where the guy will take you, what his motives were behind his actions, since when has he been planning all this, what would he benefit from this? But now, you're free and safe. You feel like you can breathe again. 

In the midst of all these thoughts, there's also another thought that echoes in your mind; is he mad at me? 

Nevertheless, not deciding to aggravate him, just in case he was, you decide to silently head towards the car with Jungkook trailing behind you.

The moment you two are inside the car and the doors are locked, he turns towards you once again, this time his features morphing into that of worry. "Are you okay?" 

"I am. Thankfully, you came before he could do anything severe." You mumble, softly. 

Jungkook nods and offers you a water bottle. You take it and gulp down and it's only then that you realise how dry your throat had become.

Once you're done and feel like your thirst has been quenched, Jungkook asks the driver to start the car.

There are a few moments of silence until you just can't anymore.

"Are you mad at me?"

Jungkook looks at you, and by the expression on his face, it looks like he wasn't expecting you to ask that. 

Nevertheless, he shakes his head. "No, what gave you the impression that I was mad at you?"

You look away from him and settle for focusing on the moving scenery outside. "You did warn me that I shouldn't go out with him but I still sneaked out. That too without any security."

"I'd be a fool to believe that you'd actually listen to what I had advised." He says with his fingers absentmindedly tapping on his clothed thigh. 

By now, you know him well enough to know that he is not mad. His voice doesn't sound like he's disappointed or mad, rather it conveys exactly what he said; he saw this coming.

You know you shouldn't have gone even after he had warned you against it. But you still did. Simply, because you wanted to distract yourself from the feelings you have started harbouring for Jungkook. It's honestly a bit embarrassing, considering how tonight ended. The frustration you're feeling right now, however, is greater than your embarrassment.

"Can you blame me for sneaking out though? I don't get to go anywhere without bodyguards. While I do appreciate it, it just sometimes gets frustrating. Sometimes you just want to be yourself without constantly feeling the eyes of others on you." Huffing, you lean back on your seat and close your eyes. "Moreover, who would have thought that a person pretending to be my romantic interest would turn out to be a potential threat."

"Well, it's actually very predictable," Jungkook replies, without missing a beat. "You are under the spotlight and the men you date, more often than not, make it to the news. And anyone, who keeps a tab on that, can tell that you have a type. Thus, whoever wants to get to you, might as well shoot their shot by sending someone who's just your type." 

Your eyes snap open at his words. "What do you mean by I have a type?" 

"Well, you do have a type." 

"If, so please kindly enlighten me as to what my type is." You retort.

Jungkook hums. "Let's see, tall, brunette, outgoing, a bit nerdy, dry sense of humour, someone who's into physical affection and is into sports. Those are the major qualities, yes." 

You blink in surprise and astonishment. Because, what the fuck, he's accurate. You have always gone for guys who fill in these boxes. Well except for Jungkook, of course.

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he indeed is right, you roll your eyes and instead shoot him with another statement. "You just ignored the part where I said that me sneaking out is justified because of me feeling the need to have some sort of control and freedom in my life, because you know my point is valid." 

From the corner of your eyes, you see Jungkook smirking as if knowing that he has won. "I didn't ignore it and yes, your point is valid. It is understandable why you would feel the need to sneak out. But that doesn't mean that it is going to stop me from accompanying you to places. I can't have you in danger. I'd do whatever it takes for you to be safe." 

His words cause a certain warmth to spread through you. Feeling flustered and a bit bashful, you find yourself at a loss of words. So, you mutter a small 'thank you'.

He tilts his head to look at you. "You don't have to thank me, it's my job."

Right.

It's his job. That's the only reason he said all the things he said and here you were feeling butterflies in your stomach, thinking you are special. He's with you at the moment, simply because it's his job. It could be anyone in your place and he would treat them the same. You're not special to him. 

Your disappointment must have been visible on your face, causing Jungkook to think that your source of disappointment is his and his team's constant presence around you.

"Hey," he mutters, voice softer than before. "I know it can get tiring, but if you can, please try to look at it differently. Instead of feeling like it's your freedom that's being stolen, try to look at it as if you're safe enough to feel free and that no matter where you are, there is a group of well-trained men trying to ensure your safety."

You downcast your eye, feeling guilty for making him feel like you don't appreciate all the work he does. Because, you do! It's just the fact that having feelings for him made you feel helpless because you had no clue what to do about them. With each passing day, your feelings just keep intensifying and you feel incredibly vulnerable in his presence. A few words from him can make your day or break your day. It doesn't help that he has never allowed himself to be vulnerable or open with you. Not even in the slightest. 

His smiles, his expressions, his behaviour everything is always under control and in check. Nothing that hints you that he views you as anything more than a client he is supposed to protect. Which is why you had decided to go on today's date, even when he had asked you not to. 

Going to the club with the person he had warned you against, was your way of rebelling. It made you feel strong. You thought going out would prove to him that you can be well and fine without him protecting you, it would be your own way to show him that you are not helpless. When in reality, it's just you who didn't want to feel helpless. 

However, when you were proved wrong, you tried to justify your actions because you were desperate. Desperate to feel like you were in the right. To add to that, was the frustration you felt towards yourself. Which is why you said what you said, to feel some sort of power over the situation.

Sometimes you indeed wish you had more freedom in your life, it's only reasonable for you to feel so. But you also know and understand why your parents have employed a whole team of bodyguards for you. They mean well and so does Jungkook. You know it very well. Thus the negative feelings towards the matter hardly ever rise. But today it did. When that wasn't even the reason why you were frustrated. You were frustrated with yourself.

"I'm sorry," you say, as sincerely as you can. "I didn't mean it that way. I do appreciate all the work you and your team do and I'm lucky that I have such a hardworking team ensuring my safety."

Jungkook nods, giving you a small smile to let you know that he appreciates your words.

A calm silence falls in the car and you relish in it, letting your thoughts wander. Unsurprisingly, your thoughts revolve around the person sitting right next to you.

When he listed out the characters that you usually prefer in your partner, it was only then that you realised that Jungkook doesn't necessarily fit in that description. 

He is tall, yes. 

Brunette, yes. 

Nerdy? You don't think so. 

Dry sense of humour? You wouldn't know because he never jokes around with you. 

Into sports? Again, he only discusses professional matters with you. 

Into physical affection? Huh, this is something you can only ever imagine knowing, when it comes to him.

Even then, you realise it doesn't affect your feelings for him. Because you fell for Jungkook for completely different reasons. 

He's kind, sweet, thoughtful, considerate, smart, intelligent, hardworking, and dedicated. Not to mention how safe you feel around him.

Which is why, even when the man had you pinned against the wall, you were not as scared as you think you should have been. Yes, you were scared but somewhere deep down you knew Jungkook would track you, sooner or later. Although, to be fair, you didn't think it would be that soon. But it explains why you aren't shaken up about the whole incident. 

When it comes to him, you don't care whether he is the kind of guy you usually prefer or not. He does not need to fit in any box, for your feelings are simply based on who he is. It's also why you believe your feelings are way deeper than you let yourself imagine.

You would have confessed, had it been anyone else. But it's Jungkook. The guy who doesn't allow himself to get comfortable with you. The guy who's here because he's employed to protect you.

Today, when he saved you, he only let his worries show after the two of you were inside the car. That's him being good at his job. Not showing emotions in front of others because any display of emotion can be used as a weakness. He only let his concerns show when there was no one around and when the man was taken away.

You do appreciate Jungkook's professionalism a lot. Although, sometimes you just wish he would fuck all sorts of professionalism.

You wish he had asked whether you are okay or not, on the spot, the very moment he freed you from the man's grasp. You wish he had shown concerns towards you right there. Almost, as if it's on instinct. If you were in his place, you know you'd have. You'd have wanted to make sure that he's okay. That would have been your priority. 

You know, it's his priority too. But the lack of emotions tells you it's his priority only because it's his job. It was only when he was sure that his job is done, that he bothered to ask if you were okay.

Which again, makes you feel helpless, mad and vulnerable.

"Your favourite ice cream place is open." Jungkook's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. "Do you want to go there?"

And then it's times like these, when you let yourself entertain that maybe, just maybe he cares for you more than just a client.

From the corner of your eye, you can see that he googled the place to check if it was open or not. It makes you think that maybe he's aware that you are in need of some cheering up. It also doesn't help that it was just once, six months ago, that you had casually mentioned that you love the ice-creams from that particular place. It's the fact that he still somehow remembers this small detail.

But you convince yourself that this doesn't mean anything. After all, he's been trained to observe. Perhaps, that's why he remembers the place.

You feel your brain and heart hurt, trying to not give yourself too much hope because you know how much it will crush you, if you let yourself believe in the possibility of something more.

"I'll just order it online." Saying so, you once again lean back in your seat and close your eyes, this time with the intention of taking a small nap to quiet your mind.

You hear a hum from Jungkook in response and the last thing you remember before drifting off is the one question you desperately try to avoid.

Why did he Google the ice-cream place? 

Part two of this fic will be uploaded on my patreon on 10th of October.

Permanent taglist:

@bloodline1632 @embrace-themagic @jeonsorchid @fragmentof-indifference

[comatosebunny09]

Leon doesn’t miss the little glances you steal. How you can’t keep your eyes off him despite the music pounding and the raucous laughter of your friends filling the VIP section.

It makes him smile. Makes something tug in his chest because you’re cute. So cute, and he wants to tuck you into his pocket for safekeeping, amongst other things.

You burn hot when you lean against him. From the alcohol you’ve consumed, and you’re all puppy-eyed and pouty-lipped, clinging to his sleeve. When did you even get over here, anyway?

He welcomes your company despite doing nothing to show it. He can’t.

You’re his charge, remember?

“Leeeoooon,” you whine. It’s the sweetest thing he’s heard all night. Makes him all tingly inside. He gives you a sidelong glance and angles himself closer just a little to listen to you better.

“What’s up, sunshine?”

“Dance with me.”

Leon snorts. Absently taps one of your hands wrapped around his bicep, fixing you with a dimpled smile. “Dancing’s not really my thing, doll.” But for you, maybe it could be.

Your pout deepens. You stare a little longer as if your wobbly lip can wear him down. Sometimes, it does.

You sift through his gaze in search of something, and the way you tug on his sleeve for leverage—how you stand on tippy-toe and slightly, only slightly, press yourself against his arm—God, he’d give you the stars if he could.

Thankfully, you don’t find whatever you seek, and you concede defeat.

“You’re no fun,” you mutter around a glower. Peel yourself away to meander back to your friends, and of course, he misses the feel of your hands on him. Of your body so close and your perfume filling his brain like smog.

But he knows he hasn’t lost you because you carry on this game of quiet smiles and fleeting glances for the next hour or so.

And he burns all hot and smug at the notion, knowing that you can’t keep your eyes off him even if you tried.

[moonstruckme]

happy new year lovie!!!! i feel bad for requesting this bc just thinking ab the volume of ur inbox is a little overwhelming and ive gone a bit overboard 😭

but..... bodyguard!james finds out his mum is quite sick right before his shift one day and leaves to take care of her after letting reader know. he has to take the week off and reader is visiting and bringing them their favorite homecooked meals everyday (which she has memorised bc, bless him, james loves to talk abt his mum) and james is LOVEEESTRUCK. she's there, bright and early every morning (with a different bodyguard bc god forbid she leaves the house with no protection right in front of james' own two eyes!!!) with muffins and flowers and bags of food in hand :( james is enamored and so sweet on her!!!!! and reader is obsessing over how vulnerable and emotionally in tune james is at a time like this!!!!! i'm thinking maybe confessions are getting pretty hard to hold back by the end of the week ☹️🩷

thank you! (if you do decide to write this or if you dont for letting me ramble on in your asks x)

Don't feel bad my love! Thank you for requesting :)

cw: sick family member

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

No matter how many times James has visited home throughout his adult life, he always manages to discover something he’s forgotten about living there. Like how particular his mum is about the way the dish towel is folded, or which drawer the scissors are kept in, or the ungodly amount of door-to-door salesmen that come by on a daily basis. 

Lately, he’s being plagued by the last. He recalls them being vaguely annoying when he was younger, but James’ family is currently going through a difficult time that leaves one with somewhat frayed nerves. He very nearly snapped at a particularly tenacious primary school student selling chocolate yesterday. Not one of his finer moments. 

So when the doorbell rings while his mum is trying to sleep down the hall, James has to make an effort to reel his wrath back in before he’s even answered it. 

Funnily enough, any negative emotion completely evaporates when he sees you on the front steps. 

“Hi,” you say, looking apprehensive. 

“Hi,” James echoes. He opens the door the rest of the way, nodding to the fill-in guard you’ve brought with you. “Hey, Singh.”

Singh nods in return. 

“I hope it’s alright that I just came by.” You give him a sheepish sort of smile. “I didn’t even realize I don’t have your phone number until now. You’re always just…there.” 

James laughs, the mood that’s descended over him since getting the call about his mum lifting slightly. “Yeah, I suppose I am. What brings you out, sweetheart?” 

You hoist the bags you’re carrying a bit higher in your arms. “I brought some stuff for you and your mom, if that’s okay.” 

A tiny hand fists around his heart, squeezing pleasantly. “Course it is,” he all but coos. “Come on in. Singh, you alright to stay here and keep watch?” 

Luckily, the other man doesn’t think to remember that James is currently on leave, and so defers to him with a curt nod. James shoots him a smile as you come inside, closing the door behind you. 

“They put Singh on day shift?” he asks, taking one of the bags from you and leading you into the kitchen. “He’s barely finished training.” 

“He seems fine,” you say in your good-natured way. 

“He took you to a location that’s never been reconned without even bringing another guard to post outside.” 

“It’s your mom’s house, Jamie.” The smile is evident in your voice, sweeter even than the smell wafting out of these bags. God, he’s missed you. “I doubt he suspects either of you are going to try and hurt me.” 

“He should be prepared for the possibility,” James says, but he can’t manage to work any menace into his tone even to tease you. You tilt your head at him, mouth curving up to one side like you’re well acquainted with his particular brand of silliness, and he lets his grievances go instantly. “You didn’t have to bring us anything, angel face.” 

You flush a bit at the endearment, directing a soft smile down at his family’s old wooden table (which is great, because now James is in the position of being jealous of a table). “I wanted to do something,” you reply simply. “How’s your mom?” 

“She’s alright.” Not great. Not worse, which is always good. If the only thing he accomplishes in a day is that she doesn’t get worse, James can feel good about that. “She’s sleeping in this morning.” 

“Oh, shit.” Your voice drops to a hush like the breeze blowing through leaves. “I haven’t woken her, have I?” 

James grins. “No, you’re good. She can sleep through anything.” 

You lose a breath. “Right, well I brought some meals to last you a few days,” you say, digging some containers out of the bag. “It can all be heated up whenever you’re ready to eat, and—oh, also some flowers. I know it’s stupid, but I thought they might brighten things up for you two.” James doesn’t think it’s stupid at all, but you go on before he can tell you so. “Can I put these in your freezer? I brought some muffins for this morning too, if you want them.” 

“Yeah,” James says, the word leaving him on a breath. “I mean, yeah to both. Thank you.” He grabs several of the containers as well, showing you to the freezer. You both start cramming them in between things, wherever they’ll fit. He takes note of the food as it goes in, a heady warmth growing in his chest. “Did you make all of this?” 

You hum in brisk affirmation. “I had plenty of time on my hands yesterday. Turns out things are pretty boring without you around.” 

“How’d you know what to make? This is all—these are our favorites.” 

You turn to him, a tenderhearted sort of smile curving your lips. “You talk about your mom a lot, Jamie,” you say. “I know all her favorites by now. And the things she’d make that were your favorites, too.” 

James hadn’t realized he’d spent so much time rambling about his mum. It hurts his chest a bit to think of it now, worse to think that you’d been listening so intently. 

“This is only really enough to get you through a few days,” you go on, oblivious to his yearning, “but I figured I’d come back with more if you’re both alright with it.” You look at him as you pack the last of the food away, your gaze careful. “I don’t want to intrude or anything.” 

“You could never intrude.” James isn’t sure how he gets the words out, his heart ballooning until it’s nearly cutting off his airflow. The cool air breezing onto one side of his face stops, and he realizes you’ve shut the freezer. “This is just…so, so kind of you. I don’t know what to say.” 

“James.” Your voice is soft. Your smile has faded, and now you look at him with an unabashed, steady kindness. “You don’t have to say anything. I can’t stand the thought of you and your mom going through this. I wanted to help, somehow.” One of your shoulders comes up in a sheepish half-shrug. “Even if it’s really small.” 

He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you hesitate only a second before bringing your arms around him too. You squeeze him tight. James lets himself relish the feel of it, lovelorn. “It’s not small,” he says fervently. “It really…it means a lot, sweetheart.” 

You only squeeze tighter in response. When he lets you go, your gaze is sad. Worried. You ask without prelude, “Are you doing okay?” 

James gives you a half-smile. The truth of it. “Yeah, we’re alright over here. It’s hard to see her like this, but I think everything’s going to be okay.” You nod, solemn in your understanding. “Sounds like I might be doing better than you, actually, if your company’s bad enough that you’re entertaining yourself in the kitchen all day.” 

You crack a smile at that, and James’ heart lightens. “Yeah, Singh’s no you. He doesn’t seem to like to chat.” 

“Ahh, so that’s why you’ve really come out here, yeah? You just missed me.” 

“You’ve caught me.” 

It’s said like a joke, but James’ pride inflates foolishly nonetheless. “I hate that I can’t be there,” he says. “Especially now that I know they’ve put Singh on my shift.” 

“He’s not so bad,” you laugh, heading towards the table. You fold up the bags. “Anyway, it’s more important that you’re here. And I’ll be back in a couple days to restock you.” 

James fixes you with a look as you start for the door. “You really don’t have to.” 

“I’m going to,” you say breezily. “Don’t forget to put the flowers in water, and the muffins are strawberry chocolate chip.” He grins. His mum’s favorite. “I’ll tell Singh you were raving about him.” 

“Oh, please do.” He rolls his eyes, feeling lighter than he has in days. “Thanks, angel.” 

You shoot him a smile worthy of the moniker as you go out the door. “See you in a couple days, Jamie.”

[ddejavvu]

for multiverse monday, maybe bodyguard!Hotch who's supposed to be watching/protecting reader (maybe a politicians daughter or something) and he catches her trying to sneak out of the window to go to a party

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

this post is 18+, minors dni.

He catches you by your ankle. One minute your hands are planted firmly on the trellis outside your window, a bit dusty, but nothing terrible, and the next they're hanging down past your head in midair, a force yanking you back from inside your window.

"Aah- hey!" You stammer, writhing where you're being pulled back through your window. You hadn't anticipated being caught but you're not surprised it's Aaron that's found you, the man seems to have a sixth sense for when you're disobeying his orders.

He grabs onto your other ankle without getting kicked, twisting his arms so that you flip from your stomach to your back. He drags you the rest of the way through the window, thankful that your bed is bumped up against the wall so that you lay sprawled out over the mattress as he stares down at you, eyes narrowed and accusatory.

His silence speaks for itself, and with the way that he'd dragged you back through the window, your already too-short dress has ridden up your waist. It's bunched at your hips now, revealing a bright white pair of lacy underwear that barely hides anything from your bodyguard.

"Excuse me," You huff, hands shoving at your dress to cover yourself once more, "I was trying to escape."

Aaron's eyes narrow impossibly thinner, a muscle in his jaw tightening in annoyance as he looms over you.

"Are you fucking insane?" He asks, dropping your ankles and leaning down to brace his palms on the mattress. He's big, mean, and scary as he hovers above you, spitting mad while he bends his arms to draw himself closer to your face.

"It's my job to protect you." He reminds you, disdain clear in his voice, "And I cannot do that if you slither out the window and run off to some- what, a party?" He grabs at the cheap jewelry around your neck with a rough hand as you lay beneath him, a bottle opener strung on a chain, "You're willing to risk your safety for a few beers?"

"I-" You start, but he's not finished, leaning in even closer with every point he makes.

"-You show absolutely zero regard for your own safety," He accuses, jabbing a finger into your chest, "And even less regard for the job I was assigned. Do you understand that I will be completely responsible should something happen to you? It doesn't matter that you tried leaving without my knowledge, if you had escaped and gotten hurt it would have been my fault. You were instructed to stay here, and I don't understand why that's not good enough for you. What else do you need besides your life? What else, what do I have to do to get you to listen to me?"

With the proximity he's kept between you, barely any space at all, he hasn't noticed your legs slowly raising on either side of his torso. When he finishes with his chest heaving and his face flushed in anger, you lock your legs around his waist, and his eyes flash with something dark.

"Make me," You plead, voice weak but desperate as you reach up to cup his cheek, "Aaron, make me stay. Make me listen, give me a reason to stay."

He's still braced on the mattress, hovering above you, but the finger that had been pushing against your chest falls to your torso, his palm flat against your dress. It's rucked up your thighs again, and his hand slides around your hip, gripping you tightly.

He sighs, dipping down to press a bruising kiss to your lips, "You are impossible."

"Aaron," You gasp, skin on fire where he kisses at your jaw. His nose brushes your skin but he pulls away all too soon, reaching for something behind him while you sit up straight to chase after his touch.

"Aaron," You repeat, pleading this time, "Wait, please-"

"Lay down," He turns, snapping at you as his hand comes to push against your chest. It's forceful, it knocks your back flat to the mattress again, and you see he's retrieved a tie from his go bag that's stashed in the corner of your room. He grabs both of your wrists with the same massive hand, tugging them above your head and wrapping the tie intricately around them so that it ties both to the headboard of your bed. You're stuck, and you're thrilled to hear his deep voice continue murmuring for you.

"You are not moving from this spot for the rest of the night," He warns you, eyes dangerously dark as he undoes the buttons of his shirt, "And you'll be so sore tomorrow morning that you couldn't move if you tried, so I hope you enjoyed your freedom while you had it."

[luveline]

we've seen bodyguard!james being soft and sweet on r, but can we possibly get more of r being soft and sweet on him? <<<<3 like she cleans and patches him up after some sort of scuffle or close call? tysm! but no pressure if you don't want to! (p.s. would that be where they'd have their first official kiss, you think? lol)

thank you so much for your request! bodyguard james forever | fem!reader ♥︎ 1.6k

James' hands shake after events. Adrenaline, no matter how many times he's defended you, will run its course. 

"Are you okay?" you ask him worriedly. 

He presses a hand, trembling still, to his forehead. A cruel looking cut tugs with the movement, scabbed over and black-crimson. 

"Fine," he says, following up with a low groan. 

His knuckles are split from an unfortunate sucker punch that had, undoubtedly, protected you from a similar facial injury. 

"You gonna go clean up?" 

He sits up. "Yeah, sorry. Just waiting for my hands…" 

You put your hands on each of his shoulders and push him back gently into your settee. "I wasn't trying to get rid of you. I don't want you to get an infection." 

His shoulders relax ever so slightly. 

"Hey," you say, "I could clean you up. If you want me to." 

"No, you couldn't. It's a mess, I don't think your pristine bathroom would survive it." 

His eyes crease with his smile. It quickly fades, an injury strained. You offer your hand to him, waiting in a tentative silence until he takes it. His fingers move to your wrist and you take his, pulling him up off of your settee with a happy sigh. 

"I'm a great nurse," you promise. "You'll be brand new by tonight." 

He lets you take him into the bathroom, a generosity to pretend you're strong enough to force him, your link tugging between you with every step. He sits on the lowered toilet seat lid and his hand forgets to let you go as you walk away. 

"I need the first aid kit," you say. 

He clears his throat, dropping your wrist. You think about it too much, the pleasure of his naturally wanting to hold onto you a blooming light you suspect radiates from your appled cheeks. You tamp down your smile and get back to business, retrieving your immaculate first aid kit from the cupboard under the sink and popping it open next to the sink. It's a huge kit, James instated, with silver sealed bandages, sterile gauze and wraps, tiny scissors and huge fabric shears, everything you could ever need to perform minor surgery. 

"Face or hands first?" you ask unsurely.

"Face is easier. It just needs disinfectant, and a butterfly stitch." 

He sees your eyes widen and laughs, though his laugh makes him wince. "Butterfly bandage, angel. It's not a real stitch. You've seen them, they're those grey plastic strips." 

You try to laugh your embarrassment away as you wash your hands. "Right, I know." 

First, you wipe the blood away from his face with a warm towel. He's gracious, closing his eyes as you lean in toward him. You're conscious that he can smell you, and you wonder if you smell good. You probably smell like sweat from all the panic, and that makes you cringe. 

"Sorry if I smell bad," you mumble. 

He opens one eye to squint at you. "You smell bad? Why would you smell bad?" His eyes close again as you wash over his mean cut. "You smell really nice. Like flowers." 

"It's the lilac and mandora perfume, in the fancy bottle." 

He hums. "Remind me again what mandora is?" 

"Citrus," you murmur, more focused on his skin than his question. 

His blood stains your face cloth, muslin slowly changing from a light cream to rusted orange. You set it next to the kit and rip open an alcohol wipe next. 

"I'm sorry," you say preemptively. "I know it'll sting. I'll be quick."  

He shakes his head. "Don't be. You couldn't hurt me if you tried." 

Why would he say that? You want to ask him. Jamie, why would you say that? It's nearly cruel, because what are you supposed to think? You bite your tongue and hold your breath as you clean the length of his wound, cringing at the feeling of the split in his skin. His tone had been so soft, a juxtaposition when compared to the ruggedness of his appearance. 

"Don't get blood on your sleeves," he says. 

"Does it matter? I'll never wear this dress again. God forbid I wear the same thing twice." 

"I wish they'd let you." 

"I'm sure you do," you mutter sarcastically. 

"I do. I'd want you to wear the one you had at your fathers Christmas Ball, the silver-gold one, with the tiny sleeves, that one was–" He hisses at your last tugging wipe. "It was beautiful. You looked beautiful." 

You stroke his forehead lightly, a stolen touch you shouldn't take. Your fingertips kiss his eyebrow, and then you force yourself away from him. 

You can't bring yourself to say thank you. Words feel impossible. 

His cut bleeds again, but it's a sluggish droplet that rivers down the slope of his temple a millimetre a second. He stays perfectly still as you pinch the skin ever so gently closed with one butterfly stitch. 

You wipe away the blood with another alcohol wipe. 

His hand is a more intricate affair. It's not shaking anymore, but it's clearly amazingly sore. You wipe off all the blood with a wipe, and apply a disinfectant cream over the worst of it. You run out of things to do. 

You're not eager to let go of his hand. 

You let your fingerpads slide over his uninjured skin until you're holding his wrist in two hands. You squeeze. There's a reverence to your touch. 

"Thank you for looking after me," you say. 

You both look up from your contiguity at the same time, comfortable enough with one another that your eyes lock and there's no awkwardness or tension. 

"They pay me," he says, "to do so. Please, don't say thanks." 

He's right, they do. They pay James to take care of your physical wellbeing. But all his compliments, all his sweet caring, that's for free. He might've taken a punch for you because he had to, but he'd hugged you in the car on the way home because he wanted to. He'd rubbed your arm, whispered, "Don't worry, sweetheart. It was a fluke, huh?" 

A fluke is the word he uses for stalker situations, people that have deluded themselves into thinking they know you, or that they need to talk to you. Now that you're in the public eye it happens more and more, and it sucks, but a fluke that grows aggressive after rejection will always be better than people who want to hurt you from the get go. Kidnappers, 'assassins', if they actually exist. 

"Can I give you a hug?" you ask him.

He lifts his chin. He has a pretty chin, a lovely jaw, and you know in your heart what you're going to do before you do it. 

"Course you can," he says cheerily. "Bring it in." 

Your arms fall over his shoulders, your wrists crossed. You rub your cheek against his mildly and breathe in his smell. The disinfectant stick tickles your nose, but his real smell, his rosemary hair oil, his lotion, has you breathing him in greedily. 

"You should change out of this uncomfortable thing," he says, big hands feeling huge as they smooth down the dip of your spine. Calluses over silk. 

"I will… It's not fun getting changed when you aren't on shift." You squeeze him tighter, wishing immediately that you could disappear. "That's not how it sounded in my head." 

"How did it sound in your head?" 

"I don't know. I like asking you what moisturiser to use, and… what nightgown to wear. I like having you there to help me out of my bracelets and necklaces." 

"An attendant can be sent up–" 

You groan wearily. "No, it's not like that, James." You pull back just enough to see his face. You're pouting, annoyed at yourself for messing it up. "This isn't as easy to say as I'd thought. I like having you with me because it's you. And it's an excuse." 

"For what?" he asks. 

Your heart hammers in your chest. You can feel it, your heart the hammer, your chest a thin piece of metal. It's thumping. You wouldn't be surprised if James could feel it too.

"Can I do something? Just this once. And if you hate it I'll never do it again. Please." 

He looks at you for long, crawling seconds. You worry he's seen straight into your head and he's unhappy with you, but he tips his head in toward yours, your foreheads a mere inch away, and says, "Alright. I trust you. Do what you want to do." 

You breathe in. You pull back your hands, leaning against the circle of his arms. Terrified, you lift your hands to his cheeks, force them trembling into the softness of his skin to hold him still. 

You lean in, and you kiss him. Shy of his lips, the slope of skin beneath them and to the left. You're too scared to go any higher. 

He makes a sound you've never heard from him before. It doesn't make it past his lips, but you're so close you hear it loud and clear. A catching breath. A smothered groan. 

You hide your face in his shoulder. 

"Princess?" he says quietly. 

"Yeah?" 

"I want you to do it again. Please."

"Maybe tomorrow," you murmur. 

He rubs your back. "Alright. I can't wait 'til tomorrow." 

[ilys00ga]

bodyguard boyfriend to the rescue.

synopsis: your comfort person, aka your secret boyfriend, saves you from falling into the abyss, once again.

genre: angst, fluff.

A/N: this is not my first time writing something like this, but it is my first (very random) public post of such. I hope this is decent enough, I will maybe post more, but I'm not sure. until then, here's this.

warnings: anxiety attacks and overthinking. no explicit mentions, tho, just dark thoughts.

_____________________________

the walls of the room stare back at you as you sit on the floor. body so stiff and brain so busy running nonstop. almost feels like it would pop legs out and escape out of your scull at any given moment as you lean your head on the edge of the bed. too tired to blink, too tired to move a limb or even get into bed and give your body its long desired rest and warmth.

days like these have always been your most despised. but as hard as you try, you can't make it stop.

nasty thoughts keep on going on and about, keep on getting nastier and darker.

what is it that I want the most? what is it that I dream of the most?

quick puffs of air start leaving your lungs as they run through your mouth, yet you can't seem to breathe. you don't know how to breathe.

what the hell am I even doing. I'm not good at anything. everything I have ever fought for was never by choice. what the hell am I going to do next?

you try and take deep breaths, you really do, but the white ceiling is becoming way too blurry for you liking. everything surrounding you in the room feels too far away from you as the floor is getting too cold and hard.

you try to remind yourself, I'm still young. this can't be just it. I'm too young, I have a lover, I have power, I have much more to look forward to, to wish and dream for..

you try telling yourself that it's gonna be okay, everything will work out just well for me, all I have to do is wait.

but-

you blink. once, twice... you blink as hard as you can as you feel the tears that have been lingering heavily at the corner of your eyes running free. you blink as you try to snap back to reality, to your room, to your bed and to your floor. you blink.

just then, the sound of your phone arises, screaming loud and clear as if saying: here, let me guide you. listen to me and snap out of it.

the weight that's been sinking the back of your head to the bed finally lightens, allowing you to lift your head as you keep on panting for air.

you slowly reach for the phone, praying that whoever's calling will help ease your pain. and your prayers are answered immediately as you feel a ghost of a relieved smile starting to creep up to the corners of your lips.

yoongi..

your mouth feels terribly heavy as you put the phone to your ear, unable to speak while your heart beats so fast and loud in your chest.

"hey...you alright?"

there it is, his voice oh so warm and delicate. so gentle and calm. he is probably worried sick as he realises this is yet another one of your episodes. oh how he hates those episodes.

the caring tone does nothing but fill your eyes with freshly new tears as it embraces your aching heart. it is quite a complex combination of feelings his existence provides to your soul. incredibly healing, yet dangerously consuming.

still unable to utter a word, you close your eyes as you desperately sniff one more time, and he hums. oh, how good you are for me.

"I'm on my way. I'll bring your favorite meal with me as well. we can lay together after filling our bellies and then you'll tell me what it is that's bothering you. a princess should never carry a burden with her."

you smile as you hang up. he never fails to amaze you.

and so, you just wait. sitting in your quarters as you wait for your bodyguard's arrival. for his hands to wrap so tenderly around you as he soothes your sore bones. for his breath to bathe you in warmth and comfort as he pulls you closer to him, whispering words of pure love to your awaiting ears, for your tired brain to listen and oblige as his knight speaks to it.

and you wait for yoongi to bring his love to you.

[sweetercalypso]

thinking about actress!reader x bodyguard!abby ,, taking her everywhere with u even though it isn’t necessarily needed, being all sweet and affectionate with her but she tries to be as professional as possible and keep a straight face, her only called u ms. [last name], her fucking u in the back of her black suv (what! who said that?!)

minors dni, 18+ ish (suggestive, mentions of Abby’s strap)

She would be such a great bodyguard honestly, like she would do anything to keep you safe. And if the strap stays on under her thick, black uniform pants, that’s just part of the job 🤷🏻‍♀️

When you’re walking out of a club and there are hoards of people flashing cameras in your face so you cling onto Abby’s arm out of instinct, you already know there are gonna be pictures of the two of you all over Twitter tomorrow with headlines like “bodyguard or beau?”. You know Abby will brush it off like always, so there’s no harm in squeezing her a little closer when the paparazzi start yelling your name.

And when you’re meeting with designers, you always bring Abby along to get a second opinion. You insist she stays in the room even when you’re getting dressed because “it’s just us girls, anyway”. Even though she turns around when your clothes come off, you don’t miss the way she positions herself at the perfect angle to watch you in the reflection of the big mirror in front of her.

And when you tell her to turn back around and you’re wearing a tight dress that shows enough cleavage to make her mouth water, it takes all her strength to hold herself back.

You know she’s struggling not to fall to her knees and put you on her face right there in the dressing room, and when you voice a sultry “d’you like it?” she just folds her arms over her chest in her usual professional stance and says “we’re taking that one home.”

[willowser]

bodyguard au + bathtime fic for kiri ?

oooooh, this is fun !!! i'm thinking of like, some situation in which you are the child of someone who is big and wealthy, maybe owns a few different multi-million dollar corporations and perhaps doesn't do it all legally 👀

kirishima has always been in the service of protecting your father !! you know him because he is a forever shadow in your home, quiet and large, peeking out windows and making sure doors are locked. he only speaks if you speak to him first, but his answers are always cut short when your father is around.

— so on a night when he has to go out of town, you're a little delighted to see kirishima sitting at the kitchen table when you get home from work.

"hi," he tells you, rising to stand leagues above you. his face is sweet, despite his wide stature. shy. "your dad asked me to stay with you until he comes back, i hope you don't mind."

oh, you don't mind at all.

it's probably really fun !!! and you make the two of you dinner and he relaxes a bit after eating, even takes off the dark jacket he's always in. his forehead shines a little, like he's sweaty, and he hikes the sleeves of his white button-up to his elbows underneath the fluorescence.

he's still is a bit hard to talk to, but he listens as you prattle on about your day, scooting around the kitchen as you clean up. he offers to finish for you, but you shoo at him to sit back down and after a little bit of insistence from you, he finally agrees to have a beer. or two.

that loosens him up enough that the conversation flows a bit easier; you learn his first name, and his cheeks go red when you repeat it with a grin. he tells you a little about his mom, that he's an only child, that he never went to college: very basic stuff that paints a vague picture of him.

you know your father does some shady things, deals with shady people. why else would he need a giant for a bodyguard, that could probably snap a man's neck without even trying ?? kirishima tells you little things, but he doesn't go too deep. doesn't reveal what twists and turns he made in his past to put him here.

eventually you leave to get ready for bed, and the soft look on his face ALMOST has you sitting down for more with him. he shifts his eyes to the table, then, like he knows he's been caught staring too long and you wonder — when the last time was that he did anything for himself ?? not for your father, or even for you, but. for eijirou.

regardless, you slip on up the stairs and take your time making a nice bubble bath, putting on some light music. there's a bar on the second floor and you steal a bottle of wine from it and two glasses before nestling in the warm water, spreading your legs out to test how much room you have in the gigantic tub.

and then you call for him. a little more urgently that necessary, but it brings him to you quicker, suddenly appearing in the open doorway of your bathroom with wide eyes, flushing down his neck when he sees you.

you lean against the edge of the tub, smiling as you prop your chin in your hand. "i was wondering if you could help me wash my back."

the question seems to buffer in his mind for a long time before he's finally blinking, adam's apple bobbing. and then he's bringing the bathroom door behind him as he begins to unbutton his shirt.

✨️ trope game ! ✨️