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?"
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.
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.
"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?"
"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.
I have a headcanon that while Sirius is the hot headed and impulsive one of the group and has to be held back by his friends, Remus is the same way but he doesn’t go after people physically but rather verbally. He will say the most unhinged and out of pocket shit that leaves his friends horrified.
Snape (sneering at Sirius): I know a whore when I see one
Remus (looking up from his book)
James (whispering): Don’t do it, don’t do it-
Remus: What did you say to Sirius?
Snape (sneering): I said, I know a whore when I see one
James: Remus don’t choose violence-
Remus (scowling): Yeah probably because you were raised by one
Sirius (collapsing to the ground in laughter)
James (hiding his face): Oh my god
That’s how 7276 brush strokes and 3h of work look like
🍂 walk through the orange leaves — blurbs with autumn-themed prompts.
i love these prompts sooo i had to ask for one of these :)
could you maybe do one with james potter (my beloved), a friends to lovers with the "i hate halloween" prompt? the rest is totally up to you, i love everything you write😩 and take your time obviously!!
𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘.
pairings ; young!james potter x reader
warnings ; mentions of drinks but isn't implied alcoholic, party, pretend they know scooby-doo okay? the timeline matches. also, reader is dressed as someone who’s a girl and white but it’s a costume so the reader isn’t solely female or white.
word count ; 1070
additional notes ; 'friends to lovers' + 'i hate halloween' prompts used. thank you for participating holden, lovey <33 this is my first james potter piece so i hope it's okay!
“i hate halloween,” you jump at the sudden voice, tearing your gaze away a dressed up sirius ruffling an agitated remus lupin’s hair from across the room. stirring the straw in your glass which creates a clanking of the ice within the cup, barely audible over the music, your head tilts to look at james.
he huffs and leans against the wall you’re currently against, his face holding slight amusement through a small smirk in contrast to what he’s just said alongside his tone. “how so?” you play along, sipping your drink and thinking you’re imagining the way james watches your lips for a second before flitting back to your observing eyes.
“excuse for people to get drunk, uncomfortable costumes,” james speaks, nudging your shoulder when he slumps further against the wall. “says mr. popular,” you tease back, watching as he huffs a laugh through his nose while watching the array of people around the slytherin common-room.
lifting his own cup to his mouth, james chuckles while taking a sip, and you’re too entranced by his features to continue the teasing, watching his jaw and the light blush on his cheeks. once he pulls away, james looks back down to you, wearing a smile to match yours.
he tilts his head, free fingers fidgeting with the orange ascot around his neck in an attempt to loosen the tie. “don’t like your costume?” you note with a laugh as he grunts from discomfort, nodding to your answer.
“and the fact that no one knows who we are, thanks to you.”
“we know.” you respond, setting your cup to the floor beside before standing in front of james. he watches your every movement, the purple dress scrunched up your thighs before your hands trail up to push his away from his neck. james sets his own drink to the surface by his side.
he prays you didn’t feel the gulp pass his throat when your fingers unkot the orange ascot, “only muggles watch scooby-doo,” james continues, voice wavers with each stroke of your finger grazing his neck. “well, i thought your hair was perfect for fred, if you were blonde you’d look exactly like him.”
he chuckles again, his mind wandering to picture the day you forced james into your small dorm room, cuddled into bed with the new show of a talking dog and crime-solving teens forced on the chunky television. james didn’t care for it, but he loved your happy smile and how you felt so natural under his arm.
he hated being just friends, the two friends with the ‘will they? won’t they?’ attitude and are practically a couple without the kissing. james was outgoing, friendly and was known around the school for being the happy-go-lucky quidditch player, but when it came to you, he was a mess.
james could only keep up his confident self for so long, but with your touches and the way you smile at him, his knees grow weak far too fast for his liking.
“well, daphne, why don’t we leave? go back to my dorm, change into comfortable clothing,” james enquires, your hands resting against his chest while his fluffy hair flops into his eyes with the tilted chin to look down at you. the glasses adorning his eyes slipping down the bridge of his nose.
it wasn’t like james to want to leave a celebration, so you are a little thrown off. “we’ve hardly been here! you’ve barely said hello to your friends—” james interjects, shaking his head while you raise one hand to push his glasses back up his nose, “just want to hang out with you, don’t care about anyone else right now.”
you’re so clearly confused, and james wants to kiss the gaping expression right off you, run his thumb over the middle of your eyebrows, creased with concern and yearn to make you giggle. the sound sweeter than anything he’s ever heard, why sit here and listen to god-awful music when he could hear your laugh for his ears only?
“what? no. you normally like things like these. and yet you want to leave… i don’t get it? i thought sirius was joking when he said it took you a lot of convincing to agree to come but i guess he was right.” you’re rambling, a sign of the confusion and james arms encircle around your waist while you rant, hips pressing to yours as you keep talking.
“do you really hate halloween? or is it just the costumes? i thought you’d like the idea, i know no-one else here knows who we are but i thought you wouldn’t mind, you usually don’t,” james only smiles at your oblivious nature and before he knows it, his mouth speaks before his mind can think.
“merlin, i really like you.”
you freeze, flitting eyes now stuck on james’ and your voice lodged in your throat as you think about what he just said. james is in a worse state, eyes wide and unable to loosen his hold on your body in fear that the movement will cause you to run away and never talk to him again.
he is unsure what to do, whether to apologise or admit himself or play it off with an ‘i mean as a friend’ but with the amount of scenarios and sentences running through his head, he doesn’t notice you leaning up.
james’ eyes only widen further at the feeling of your lips pressing to his, fingers tightening against the material of your costume. it takes a moment, but finally he allows his own eyes to close as he responds, an array of butterflies along his stomach and goosebumps across his arms when you cup his jaw.
before he can get too carried away, however, james pulls away. a large grin falls upon his lips when he looks at your kiss-struck lips, in disbelief he was the fella who had just kissed you. and one arm leaves your back to run a thumb across your bottom lip, taking in everything that just happened.
“i’ll ask again, daphne,” you giggle, digging into his white shirt covered chest before he continues, "why don’t we leave?”.
this time you’re less caring, with the tingling sensation upon your lips from james’ touch merely a minute ago, you couldn’t wait to kiss him more and more. so you nod, letting your hand slip into his, “lead the way.”
taglist form . the library . all blurbs
james potter; masterlist
regulus “never be so kind you forget to be clever” black and james “never be so clever you forget to be kind” potter
i was angling at a cute bonding moment and I somehow ended up with whatever this is so,,,
remus: i have a migraine
sirius: you always have a migraine
remus, sarcastically: yeah. i wonder why.
sirius, who was previously dancing around the room in tap shoes while listening to rock songs: i don’t know man. your body works in wondrous ways. maybe blame pete.
remus: yeah cuz pete’s the lunatic prancing around the room dancing with tap shoes on to songs that are not even meant for tap dancing.
sirius: hey! don’t blame me for your bodily faults. that’s on you sista.
marauders as that 70’s show quotes:
Even if Sirius was probably a bit cruel to Peter and lacked patience at times, he still spent time with him during school and trusted Peter enough to put James, Lily, and Harry’s life in Peter’s hands. James was his best friend, Sirius went to James’s house when he left home, Sirius was godfather to James’s son, James was one of Sirius’s favorite people and vice versa; and Sirius trusted Peter so much that he put the lives of three people Sirius loved enough to die for in Peter’s hands. Sirius knew the Death Eaters would be gunning for him to get to the Potters, Sirius knew he’d become a major target the second that prophecy was made and James and Lily had to go into hiding, and he trusted Peter enough to go “I am willing to be bait, to let myself be tortured and likely brutally murdered, so you can keep them alive. If I go missing or get captured, you’ll know Voldemort is zeroing in, I can buy all of you time with my life.” Sirius was willing to die in order to ensure his friends would live, and he trusted Peter to keep the Potters safe; we know Sirius distrusted Remus by this point, but he trusted Peter to keep James alive, and he trusted Peter enough that Sirius was willing to die so that Peter could keep James alive after his death. Even if it’s mostly because Sirius thought it was a great bluff, Sirius still was willing to die and leave the Potters’ lives in Peter’s hands so there was a great deal of trust in Peter
Every time I think about this, it honestly just wrecks me. Sirius was such a loyal friend. He loved his found family so much, and that was clear in every single one of his actions and words. Even once they were mostly gone, he still loved them so fiercely and did everything possible to uphold his promises, no matter how much he was constantly thwarted at every turn.
Sirius' entire story from start to finish is just heartbreaking, and a large piece of that rests solely on Peter. Of course he trusted Peter. He was one of Sirius' best friends, regardless of how he might have viewed his mind or work ethic at times, or whatever judgements Sirius might have found in the other. As far as we know, Peter was there from the beginning. He slept in the bed next to the others. He traversed the castle with them, aided them in making the map (you can't tell me they didn't make use of Wormtail for that). HE BECAME AN ANIMAGUS WITH THEM. If they didn't like or trust him, why would they have ever included him in something so great and illegal?
Sirius and James and Remus trusted Peter enough to not only tell him of their plans, but had enough faith in his ability to master the transformation at all. That's a nightmarish process from what we've learned, especially for teenagers with no help. Remus trusted Peter to keep his secret, and as far as we know, he did. He never betrayed that, which also leads me to believe that he valued Remus more than the other two in some ways.
And as you said, there's no way such a massive thing like protecting the lives of three people would have been put in his hands if he wasn't inherently important to them. James wouldn't have entrusted the lives of his wife and son to him, and Sirius certainly wouldn't have handed them over so easily, come up with the idea himself, if he'd had even the slightest hint of uncertainty. James, Lily, and Harry were everything to him. They were his life. He loved them with everything he had, and he purposefully gave them to Peter to protect them as much as he possibly could because he was willing to sacrifice himself to keep them breathing.
Peter's betrayal, whatever the reasoning behind it, must have permanently knocked the air from Sirius' lungs. I can't even imagine the thoughts in his head, the shattering blame he must have felt when he understood what had happened. Everything that had ever meant something to him had been ripped away. He lost his real family for whatever reasons you want to believe. He lost his brother. He lost Remus to distrust. And then he lost the only things he had left, James and Lily dead, Hagrid refusing to give him Harry.
At the end of it all, he only had Peter. And as he stood there in front of that destroyed cottage while Hagrid flew away with Harry on his own bike, as it all settled over him, that realization of everything that had turned so wrong as none of them noticed, the knowledge that he'd made that fatal mistake himself, Sirius lost that one last tie holding everything together.
He trusted Peter to keep them safe. James had trusted them both, and now he was dead. The devastation and rage of that weight must have been unbearable for Sirius.
Regulus: James, dear please can you pass me the salt.
James, turns into a deer, picks up salt with mouth, and throws it across the room:
hey love, could i please request sirius with shy!reader who has maybe social anxiety and doesn’t like to order at restaurants so sirius does it for her? thank you <3
hi tysm for ur request!!
You're sizing it all up as you sit down. Eyes over Sirius' shoulder, you search the restaurant floor for a waitress and must find about five of them, all in their pretty uniforms with their hair done nicely.
Sirius reaches across the table to turn your wrist gently. He's really quite gorgeous tonight, lovely curls all sleek and shiny, ears and neck heavy with jewellery. His fingertips move teasingly over your pulse.
"Hey, lovely girl," he says, because it's sweet enough to make your cheeks hurt and he knows that, "I'd love it if you looked at me rather than through me."
"Sorry," you say, clearing your throat.
He brings your wrist up to his face as if inspecting your skin. You let him do as he likes, savouring the sensation of his skin dotting over yours, splashes of tropical rain. Everywhere he touches warms.
"I was thinking we'd-" — he rubs at your wrist with his thumb as if wiping away a smudge — "have two mains and share them. Pasta and... well, what do you want, doll?"
He kisses your wrist and then drops your arm. "I'm not in the mood for wine."
He grins at you and does something awfully showful, a pose, his arms going behind his back. One reaches for the space between his shoulders and the other forces it lower. There's a click, a groan, and his grin softens ever so slightly.
"What do you want to drink?" he asks, eyes closed.
"Um. I'll have, uh. Water. Do you think they'll give me a lemon slice if I ask?"
The idea of asking makes you worried again. You look over his shoulder once more and track down the waitress that had shown you to your table. She's moving toward you alarmingly quickly.
You can order for yourself, of course you can, but the run up and during has your heart skipping gracelessly. Then, afterward, you'll regret your tone and your phrasing and each pause.
Sirius barely moves when she finally arrives. She's no sooner opened her mouth than he's steamrolled you both, giving your order and his in the same breath and with the same smirking smile.
"Thanks," you murmur as she turns away.
Sirius rolls his neck. "You're welcome. I'll have your lemon slice as retribution for my struggle."
Sirius and Regulus at Walburgas funeral:
"They should be making moonscreen, those muggles."
"Huh?" Remus shuffled on Sirius chest, to look up into his eyes. He chuckled breathily at Sirius' goofy grin. "What was that?" he said teasingly.
"Moonscreen. Like the sunscreen you told me about, but for moons."
They were both somewhat past tipsy, and Sirius' words were slurring a little. He sneezed mid-sentence when the astronomy tower's chill air brushed past them, and Remus reached up to pull the blanket back up around their shoulders.
"Why on earth would they do that?" Remus said, "And what do you mean 'moons'? Are you sure there's more than one up there? Must be drunker than you thought, Pads."
"You're a moon, Moony—" Remus snorted at that— "And the people have got to be protected against you."
Remus huffed. He couldn't even be mad at the loving little frown Sirius wore. "Yeah, they sure as hell need to be protected against me—"
"Cause you're so hot!"
Remus burst out laughing. "What??"
"They'd be burning if they saw you-- I'm burning up! You see what I mean? Hence moonscreens. And moonglasses." Sirius squeezed him closer where his arms are around Remus' waist. He rocked them both gently back and forth, eyes not leaving Remus' for a second.
And Remus falls and falls, yet again, even while firmly caught in Sirius' arms. "Don't look away," he whispered.
Slowly, Sirius leaned down, touching his forehead to Remus'. They could see themselves in each other's eyes, and Sirius was so, so close when he said:
"I'd go blind before I do."
happy october ..!
here’s lily + the ring for @anauro 💥
LUNA I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS.
james potter would definitely invite you to come watch a horror movie with him because he heard that it’d get your girl to hold your hand but then HE’D get scared shitless and you’d comfort him and turn on the lights for him in the bathroom so he could brush his teeth without having a heart attack about someone hiding behind the shower curtains,,,
THIS IS SO CANON- IVE BEEN SAYING THIS!!! IVY THIS IS EVERYTHING TO ME!!!
he hears from sirius that it’s the perfect date: he gets to impress you with his bravery and cuddle you the whole night? its a no brainer.
that is, until, james figures out he is terrified of horror movies. he jumps at every single scare, no matter how obvious it is, and grips your hand for dear life. being james, he tries to play it off every time, coughing and muttering about how stupid it is, only to react the exact same five minutes later.
once the film ends, he’s following you around, not wanting to be left alone. you’re going to the bathroom? he’s standing outside the door begging you to hurry up. every light in the house has been turned on, the curtains are drawn, and the doors are locked. his wand doesn’t leave his side.
when its time to go to bed he’s holding you tight, your body pressed impossibly close to his so he knows he isn’t alone. he does beg you not to tell the lads, but it’s too good a story not to. sorry james.
No, because when "And I left my scarf there at your sister's house and you've still got it in your drawer even now", Taylor was actually singing about Reggie's hat, which is still in James' drawer
you reread the harry potter books and realise wow jk rowling really didn’t like sirius at all. thank god i Do love him and have a keyboard and internet connection to let everybody know how much i treasure that gay outlaw