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novalyn257 · 1 day ago

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Seventeen reaction to you end up being sick at the same time

Pairing: seventeen x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff, Comedy

Word Count: 2,500 words

Warnings: Mild descriptions of illness (nothing graphic), lots of doting boyfriends, mentions of medicine.

Disclaimer: this blog is a fanfiction haven, and everything posted here is purely a work of fiction. The characters, settings, and worlds belong to their respective creators unless otherwise stated. No copyright infringement is intended.

✨ I write for fun, not profit.

✨ My takes may not be canon-friendly, and that’s okay.

✨ Reader discretion is advised for certain themes; check tags!

If you vibe with it, welcome aboard! If not, feel free to scroll away 💖 Stay kind, stay creative.

Masterlist

S.Coups

You're sitting on the couch, a blanket cocooned around you like it’s your only lifeline, while Seungcheol stares at you like you’ve personally offended him by getting sick. To be fair, he’s got tissues stuffed up both nostrils, and his voice sounds like a gravel road after a rainstorm.

“I told you not to drink that iced coffee yesterday,” he croaks, arms crossed, even though his nose is so congested he looks like he’s about to pass out mid-sentence.

“And I told you not to stay up until 3 a.m. playing League,” you shoot back, coughing into your elbow. The living room—your supposed safe haven—has turned into a battlefield of used tissues and half-empty mugs of ginger tea.

“Touché.” He slumps down beside you, stealing a corner of your blanket and your tea like the shameless man he is. “But we’re in this together now, babe.”

You’re too tired to argue, so you just let him sip the tea. At least he made it himself.

Jeonghan

Jeonghan’s sick face is somehow still unfairly attractive. You’re curled up in bed with a fever so high you’re hallucinating about baby goats, but he looks like he’s stepped out of a K-drama where he’s the terminally ill male lead.

“Should I call the doctor?” he asks, sitting cross-legged on the bed with a pout that’s almost convincing.

“I just have a cold, Hannie,” you mumble, shivering despite the mountain of blankets he’s piled on you.

“That’s what people say right before it gets serious,” he says dramatically. The bedroom is dim, the faint glow of your bedside lamp the only light. He’s balancing a thermometer in one hand and a bowl of soup in the other, like some weird domestic superhero. “Eat this soup and prove me wrong.”

You take a reluctant spoonful, only to find it’s your favorite. He beams. “I knew you’d like it. See? Who’s the best boyfriend?”

Joshua

The two of you are sprawled out on the rug in the music room because somehow, sitting in chairs was too much effort for either of you. Joshua’s guitar rests abandoned on the floor as he checks your temperature for the third time in ten minutes.

“Still the same,” he says softly, his L.A. drawl soothing despite the scratch in his own throat.

“You don’t have to take care of me, you know,” you whisper, though you don’t mean it. It’s oddly comforting to have him here, even when both of you are too sick to function properly.

He chuckles, lying down beside you and pulling the nearest blanket over both of you. “I’d rather be sick with you than healthy without you.”

You snort, which turns into a cough, which turns into him laughing so hard he starts coughing too.

Jun

“This is terrible.” Jun’s voice is muffled by the ridiculous face mask he’s wearing. You’re sitting together on the floor of the kitchen because the two of you were trying to make some kind of herbal tea, but halfway through, you both gave up.

“You look like you’re about to perform surgery,” you mutter, resting your head against the cabinet behind you.

“Better safe than sorry,” he replies, pouring hot water into mismatched mugs. “Now, drink this. It’s supposed to fix everything.”

“What is it?”

“…I’m not sure.”

You give him a look, but he just grins behind his mask. Despite your better judgment, you take a sip. It tastes…not bad, actually. You both end up giggling like children, leaning against each other for support as you try to pretend you’re not both completely miserable.

Hoshi

The dance studio is the last place you’d expect to be when you’re sick, but here you are, bundled up in one of Hoshi’s hoodies while he tries to convince you to do some stretches.

“It’ll make you feel better,” he insists, already halfway into a plank position.

“Soonyoung, I can barely breathe.”

“Okay, then just watch me.”

You sit on the floor, leaning against the mirror as he attempts to do a one-handed push-up but immediately collapses. He’s clearly as sick as you are, but his determination is almost endearing. Almost.

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, but you’re smiling.

He grins back, crawling over to sit beside you. “But I made you laugh, didn’t I?”

Wonwoo

The library smells like old books and fresh coffee, a combination that would normally be comforting, except for the fact that you’re both sneezing every five seconds.

“I think the librarian’s going to kick us out,” you whisper, trying to stifle a cough.

“Let her try,” Wonwoo replies, his voice hoarse but firm. He hands you a tissue from the packet he’d stuffed in his pocket earlier. “You need to rest.”

“Says the guy who insisted we come here,” you retort, though you’re secretly grateful for the quiet atmosphere.

He just shrugs, adjusting his glasses. “Books make everything better.”

You’re too tired to argue, so you let him read aloud to you, his deep voice oddly soothing despite the occasional sniffle.

Woozi

The recording studio is a mess of wires and half-empty water bottles. Jihoon’s sitting at the mixing desk, his head in his hands, while you’re curled up on the couch with a fever.

“You should be in bed,” he mutters, not looking up.

“So should you,” you counter, your voice barely above a whisper.

He finally turns to look at you, his expression softening. “I’ll go if you go.”

“Deal.”

He sighs, grabbing his jacket and helping you to your feet. The walk back to your apartment is slow and quiet, but his hand never leaves yours. “Next time, we’re both taking sick days,” he says firmly.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Seokmin asks for the fifteenth time in as many minutes. You’re lying on the couch in the dorm’s living room, surrounded by pillows and blankets he’s brought you.

“I’m fine,” you reply, though your voice cracks halfway through.

“No, you’re not,” he says, plopping down beside you. “But don’t worry! Nurse DK is here to save the day!”

You laugh despite yourself, which only makes you cough. He immediately panics, patting your back and offering you water. “Okay, maybe no more jokes,” he says sheepishly.

But when you see the genuine concern in his eyes, you can’t help but smile. “Thanks, Seokmin.”

Mingyu

The kitchen looks like a tornado went through it. Mingyu stands in the middle of the chaos, holding a tray of what you think are supposed to be cookies.

“I made these for you,” he says proudly, even though they’re a little burnt around the edges.

You’re sitting at the dining table, wrapped in a blanket like a burrito. “They look…interesting.”

He pouts. “Hey, I worked hard on these!”

You take a tentative bite, and to your surprise, they’re not bad. “Okay, they’re actually pretty good.”

He beams, sitting down beside you. “Told you I’m the best boyfriend.”

You roll your eyes, but the warmth in your chest has nothing to do with the tea he made earlier.

The8

Minghao’s idea of taking care of you involves a lot of meditation. You’re sitting on the floor of the balcony, wrapped in a blanket, while he lights incense and instructs you to “breathe deeply.”

“I can’t breathe deeply,” you point out, your voice nasal and congested.

He sighs, sitting down beside you. “Okay, maybe not deeply, but try to relax. It’ll help.”

You close your eyes, letting the scent of the incense wash over you. Despite your skepticism, it’s oddly calming. When you open your eyes, he’s watching you with a soft smile.

“Feeling better?” he asks.

“A little,” you admit.

Seungkwan

“This is unacceptable,” Seungkwan declares, pacing back and forth in your living room like a concerned mother hen. “You should have told me you were feeling sick!”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you mumble, though your voice is barely audible.

He stops in his tracks, staring at you like you’ve just said the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “Bother me? You’re my whole world!”

You blink at him, too tired to process the dramatics. He huffs, grabbing a blanket and draping it over you. “There. Now stay put while I make you some tea.”

You don’t have the energy to argue, so you just let him fuss over you. Deep down, you know he’s loving every second of it.

Vernon

The two of you are sprawled out on the couch, watching old cartoons because neither of you has the energy to do anything else. Vernon’s voice is raspy, and his eyes are half-closed, but he still chuckles every time something funny happens on screen.

“This is nice,” he murmurs, his head resting on your shoulder.

“You mean being sick together?” you tease.

“Yeah,” he replies, completely serious. “As long as I’m with you, it’s not so bad.”

Your heart melts a little, even as you roll your eyes. “You’re such a sap.”

He grins, and for a moment, you forget you’re both miserably sick.

Dino

Chan’s idea of taking care of you involves a lot of trial and error. You’re in the practice room, sitting on one of the benches while he tries to figure out how to make ginger tea.

“I think I’ve got it this time,” he says, handing you a steaming cup.

You take a cautious sip and immediately start coughing. “Chan, this is just hot water.”

He groans, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, maybe not. But at least I’m trying!”

You can’t help but laugh, which only makes him pout. But when he sits down beside you and offers to share his headphones, you realize you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

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23xfgg · 2 days ago

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BATFAM x MERMAID! READER

Bruce knew what your mother was and he still chose to bed her not knowing of the consequences that will soon come to haunt him. Nine months later your mother and her sisters in her pod welcomed you into the world without Bruce ever knowing your mother was pregnant.

Since then you have been raised by and in the oceans exploring the sea, developing your powers and bringing any land-people you and the rest of your pod came across to their doom (USING YOUR POWERS TO STEAR HTEM AWAY).

Your mother would leave the oceans once a month to interact with the land-people there. She claims it was to keep the pod safe because there was land-people who would find you and hurt the pod. But you always wondered if it was something more.

Every time your mother had to leave you always begged to go with her because why was that place so interesting that she has to go every month. And every time she would always decline your wish siting it as too dangerous for a little pup like you. You argue that you are fully grown with gills but sadly, you are still considered too young until your tail comes in.

The next month, your mother had to leave again to be around land people again. This time you followed her, much against the advice of the pod, making sure not to get caught by your mother and have her drag you back to the pod.

After carefully following her for Poseidon knows how long you have finally reached the land-people place. The water there was a lot harder to swim in compared to the part of the sea you come from. There was this wired black substance clinging to your skin and almost clogging your gills.

You see you mother five under the water so you wait a few seconds and dive under, still keeping your sight on her tail.

You watch as she swims into a cave, with you following closely after. You watch as she slowly begins to surface at the water but once she was about half way she freezes. You follow her gaze and you see a large black thing with white eyes spikes coming out of his head. You figured he is one of those land people some of the elders in your pod talk about…what are they called…? Furries? Or was it the DDSM role play land people? Next to him you saw a much shorter land person with a mask and a red, black, green and yellow clothing. Both of the land people seams to have a not so happy expression as your mother sits on the ledge instead of getting out completely.

The large land person’s mouth was moving but you were too far deep in the water to exactly hear what he and your mother were talking about. So you start bringing yourself closer to the surface but not to much so you can stay hidden.

You can now hear what was being said bur its was still muffled but you can make out words like “Visiting.” and “I don’t care, Bruce.” From your mother and stuff like “It’s been years” and “Why now?” for the land persons who you assumed to be Bruce. You were still missing a great deal of context to their conversations and you were trying to sting together what little you had.

You was too focused on trying to string the conversation together that you didn’t realise that your mums tail brushed past your legs until it was too late.

It all happened in a flash your arm was suddenly grabbed and you were yanked to the surface, face to face with your mother who had an expression which can rival Poseidon’s fury and take control of the sea itself. All you cold do is smile sheepishly as she lets go of your arm and rub her temples, muttering how you were suppose to be with the pod and not out here.

“And who is she?” A gruff but stern voice cut through your mother’s muttering . The both of you in sync turn towards the large land person standing there and your mother sighed and let out a response the shocked the both of you…

“She…is your daughter Y/N.”

( 🐺: “OH HEY LEVI” *trips over nothing and falls to the ground when Levi comes to the rescue and grabs Y/N’s arms* “WOW LEVI YOUR SOOOOOOOOOO STRONG!!!!!)

Your clue cloud dazed eyes make contact with his white out ones when the words settled in the room. The science was deafening to all the parties in the room. 3/4 where shocked and the other being your mother just rolled her eyes and snugged her tail towards you, a silent way of urging you to say something.

“Umm…hi?”

ALPHA // another not so filler post to post while I am in the corner rewriting the opening the next chapter of drug user! Reader because idk how to write a series..

Will this get a part 2… idk ask the author (I have one in mine but I have other stuff to put out first!!!!!!!!)

I also included a mood board kinda for mermaid! Reader all my pictures come from pininterest but I organised them so :p now I’m going to take a well deserved nap and apply to j*bs

See you beautiful omegas next time BYEEE BEYEE

BOOO A JOB

#23xfggwrites #batfam x black reader #batfam x reader #this is not real yandere yet but im putting the tag #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere batman #platonic batfam #yandere batboys #yandere bruce wayne #yandere dc #yandere dick grayson #yandere damian wayne #yandere nightwing #yandere tim drake #yandere jason todd #x siren reader #siren #batfamily x reader

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lithnin · 3 days ago

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It might be more instructive to say that the landlord is acting as a risk buffer in this scenario.

People generally want banks to exist. They want to be able to deposit their money someplace safe, have a place to cash their paychecks, be able to take out loans to pay for bigger-ticket items like cars and houses, etc, etc. (Mortgages are actually pretty complicated, but for the purposes of this post let's only think about regular old-fashioned loans.) In order to remain solvent, a bank has to make sure the money it lends out will get repaid. Otherwise, it will lose all of its money – i.e. its depositors' money, i.e. your money and my money – and then none of us will be able to do banking stuff. That sucks and nobody wants it to happen.

To that end, banks (or other types of lenders, the underlying logic is the same) have to assess how likely it is that you won't pay them back. Using certain pieces of information to do that is illegal, but one of the ones that isn't illegal is demonstrated history of paying things back on time, hence credit scores. In your example:

an aspiring homeowner goes to Assholes Inc. a bank to take out a home loan, but even though they can afford the $2000 monthly payment, theyre *gasp* a PEASANT- sorry, their "credit score isnt high enough" bc they cant always pay their exorbitantly priced credit card on time/can only afford to pay the minimum

A lender may well look at this person's inability to reliably pay off even a smaller amount of debt and decide, yeah, thanks but no thanks. This is not a value judgement, they don't care that you're "a peasant" or any nonsense like that, they're just doing an expected value calculation: is the likelihood that this person won't be able to pay back their loan, times the remaining principal of the loan, more than we'd expect to make off of the interest payments?

This is not fundamentally different from deciding whether to lend $20 to that friend of yours who's totally good for it, man, come on, you know me, but then mysteriously they're broke again the next time you see them. If you, personally, are willing to take that risk with your own money, go for it. The bank is not.

(Realistically, in most cases it's likely that they'll still offer a loan but at a higher interest rate, which is just a way of pricing in the chances of defaulting on the loan. This is, again, not a personal slight or a punishment, just a reflection of the greater risk involved.)

The landlord in this scenario does not have that problem. They've presumably borrowed money and bought things on credit many times and reliably paid them back. They probably have money saved or invested, own other property like the houses they're renting, or otherwise have assets that could be used as collateral. From the bank's perspective they are a safer bet. They also don't have depositors that they're beholden to, so they can assume some more risk from the renter, and that extra $500 on the rent payment is their version of the interest rate pricing in that risk.

Are there ways the system as a whole could be improved? Definitely – in particular, the housing supply in many areas is artificially constrained in ways that hurt both renters and prospective buyers. But to a first approximation, both the bank and the landlord here are providing services that people want, and it's a good thing that they are able to.

Why are landlords allowed to lease homes they don't own? Why are renters expected to pay off the landlord's mortgage?

If the bank owns the home then the renter should be paying directly to the bank, instead of paying a higher fee so that the landlord can make a profit off of the transaction by doing nothing.

#oversimplifying for clarity tbf

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pedroscurls · 3 days ago

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feels like home

PART 2: SOMETHIN' IN YOUR VOICE

summary: it becomes routine for the both of you - joel helping you every night to close the tipsy bison. it's in these quiet moments that the both of you realize you're helping each other heal. until one particular night, joel comes stumbling into the tipsy bison after a very rough patrol.

pairing: jackson!joel x fem!reader content warning(s): age gap (joel is in 50s, reader is in 30s), mutual attraction/pining, joel calls you darlin' and angel, joel has PTSD, joel has a panic attack, joel is vulnerable in this y'all, mutual pining, lingering touches, no physical description of reader, no use of y/n. word count: 3.5k a/n: ok, this was a long time coming! i'm so sorry for the delay in posting this next part. life got in the way (and s2 of tlou definitely got me in my feels). to everyone who is still reading this, thank you thank you thank you <3 hope you enjoy and i hope to at least post the next part sooner! song: feels like home by randy newman (jørgen dahl moe cover) part 1. | series masterlist.

there’s somethin’ in your voice, makes my heart beat fast hope this feeling lasts, the rest of my life

It’s become routine for Joel—heading to the Tipsy Bison almost every night to help you clean up. He realizes after that first night that he’s been craving your presence. His home is too quiet for him—giving way to the thoughts that he’s tried so hard to drown. It doesn’t help that his relationship with Ellie isn’t the same as it had been ever since she moved into the garage. He’s opened himself in ways that he never thought he’d be able to again, but you make it easy. There’s just something about you that Joel finds comfort in—whenever he’s with you, he feels lighter like the weight of the world isn’t sitting on his shoulders.

Joel knows there’s a mutual attraction too. He’d sometimes catch your gaze, watching your eyes deviate to his lips. It makes him feel warm inside when he notices small things like that—how much you want him too. Even when you touch him—a hand over his, an arm looping with his own, your head resting on his shoulder—it lingers until he’s back at home and all he wants is to pull you into his arms.

He’s gotten to know more about you in this last month and a half—how strong and brave you are, how kind and considerate you try to be in this world, and how there are some days where it’s hard for you to get up and move forward with your life.

The more he gets to know you and the more he spends time with you, Joel begins to realize just how much he’s beginning to care about you. Sometimes he’d have to remind you to eat (which you do the same to him) and other times, when the days are just too hard, he’d hold you in his arms. Joel likes the way you feel against him—like you had always belonged there.

You couldn’t believe just how close you and Joel were becoming. You had thought that him helping you the first night you met was just a one time occurrence, but you were just as surprised to see him again… and again almost every night. Like clockwork, he’d show up at the Tipsy Bison with his hands in his pockets and a small smile on his lips. The more time you spend with him, the more you begin to develop really strong feelings for him.

The conversations you both shared almost every night made you feel seen and understood. You had gotten used to bottling everything in and making sure that everyone else was taken care of that you didn’t realize how much difficult shit you kept buried. Joel had become attuned to your emotions that he would pull you into his arms when he’d hear your voice tremble. Being in his arms—it was the one place that you felt safe.

You had also gotten used to him stopping by your classroom every morning before he left for patrol. Sometimes, he’d even drop by to give you a cup of coffee or breakfast—especially if the previous night entailed really difficult conversations amongst the two of you. You noticed that the hugs lasted longer, the looks you both shared filled with tension, the touches lingered. There had been a shift in your friendship with him, but neither of you decided to act on it—too afraid to risk something you both created.

“Mornin’, angel,” Joel says, stepping into your classroom. You look up at him, a smile instantly lining your lips at the sight of him.

“Hey,” you answer, standing from your desk to walk up to him. When you’re close enough to him, Joel’s arm snakes around your waist and pulls you into a hug. You can feel the tension in his shoulders, can feel the tight muscles along his back. “You okay?”

Joel nods, face burying against the crook of your neck. His other arm wraps around you and he tightens his grip. “Rough night,” he whispers.

You let out a quiet sigh and run your hands along his back, holding him close to you. You hadn’t worked at the Tipsy Bison last night so you didn’t get a chance to see Joel. “You could have come over…” you tell him quietly.

“Didn’t wanna bother you,” he sighs.

“You’d never bother me.”

Joel pulls back at that and looks down at you, keeping his arms around your waist. He stares into your eyes as he relaxes in your arms. He lets out a shaky breath and nods. “Okay, angel.”

“Promise me that you’ll come over if that happens again?”

Joel nods. “Promise.”

“Good,” you smile, slowly removing your arms from around him once he releases you. “So, you got patrol this morning?”

“Yeah, should be an easy one though. Should be back after lunch,” Joel answers. “You workin’ tonight?”

You nod and move around the classroom, knowing that your students were about to come to your class in half an hour. “Yeah, I’ll be there tonight. Will I see you?”

“You know you will,” he replies. “Who else will walk you home?”

You roll your eyes playfully and walk back to him, hand resting gently on his chest. “I’ve walked myself home before, you know.”

Joel chuckles quietly and brings a hand up to tuck a few fallen strands behind your ear. It’s an innocent touch, but the way you’re both staring into each other’s eyes—it’s tense, charged with an unspoken feeling that you both share. “I know, but I like being the last one you see before you go to bed, angel.”

“Who says you’re the last one I see, hm?” you tease, biting your lower lip.

“Oh, you got someone else I don’t know about?” he asks, brow arching as he steps closer to you and his hand moves to the side of your neck with his thumb brushing lightly along your jawline.

“What if I do?”

Joel’s eyes narrow slightly as he takes another step towards you, hearing you let out a quiet gasp when you feel the corner of one of the desks hit the back of your legs. “Well, I’d be hurt, angel.”

You stare deeply into his brown eyes as your hand on his chest moves to grip the lapel of his coat, almost tugging him flush against you. “I’m teasing,” you whisper. “You’re really the only one I like talking to.”

He chuckles and leans in to kiss your temple, pulling away softly. “Good. I guess it’s also a good thing that I like talkin’ to you too, hm?”

“I mean, you stop by my work almost every chance you get,” you tease.

“It’s because you’re nice to look at,” he winks.

You roll your eyes but feel the heat in your cheeks. Gently, you push him away, hearing him let out a quiet chuckle. “Okay, okay. Get outta here. I’ll see you tonight?”

Joel nods. “You’ll see me tonight, darlin’. Have a good day, okay?”

“You too, Joel.” As he’s walking away, you call his name and see him turn around to face you once he’s right outside your door. “And be safe, okay?”

“I’ll do my best, angel. See you tonight.”

Coming back from patrol, Joel’s a complete mess. They had encountered a small cluster of infected and he was already on edge when he woke up this morning. He should have seen it coming, should have made sure that the entire area was clear. His mind had been all over the place and he only saw brief clarity when he stopped by your classroom.

But he heard the scream first and when he came rushing into the building, Joel was rooted to the ground at the sight of the infected already tearing apart his patrol partner. He was screaming—for help, for it to all stop, but Joel was stuck.

Because one of the infected had looked like Sarah. His babygirl.

Tommy and a few others had come rushing in, handling the infected without issue. Joel only began moving when the young girl that looked like his Sarah was now lying on her back. The same bouncy curls that he used to have trouble maintaining when she was younger.

But this wasn’t Sarah.

Tommy had shaken his shoulders, snapping his fingers in front of his older brother's face to snap him out of whatever trance he was in. “Joel! What the hell?”

“I—I,” he stuttered, eyes still focused on the young girl.

“You shouldn’t have gone on patrol. I shouldn’t have let you.”

“Tommy,” Joel’s hands shook at his sides. “I thought—I thought it was Sarah and I—”

Tommy’s eyes had softened immediately as he looked over his shoulder to look at the young girl. “Shit. It ain’t her, Joel…” he sighed. “We need to get you back to Jackson.”

Now, back in Jackson, Joel quickly makes his way to his home. He doesn’t bother to stop when Tommy calls his name because he can feel his chest tightening, can feel his breath shortening. He stumbles into his house, kicks off his boots and removes his coat—all in a pile as he begins walking to the kitchen.

Joel can feel the walls closing in and when he shuts his eyes, all he can see is Sarah—dead in his arms, blood staining his clothes. He grabs a bottle of whiskey from his cupboard and falls into the seat at the dining table. He takes a long swig of the alcohol, which only makes his heart race faster. “M’sorry,” he whispers to himself. “M’sorry, babygirl.”

He tries to steady his breathing, tries to stop the shaking of his hands, but the weight in his chest becomes more prominent. Joel doesn’t see anything but Sarah. He can’t hear anything but the sounds of her pleas, her cries on the night she died.

Seeing an infected young girl that looked like Sarah had rocked him and when she was finally shot and killed by one of the others on patrol, it was like he was reliving Sarah’s death all over again.

He slumps in the chair, taking swig after swig of his bottle of whiskey until it’s empty. The alcohol does a decent job of numbing what he’s feeling, of distracting himself from the lingering thoughts. It helps quiet his mind, but he knows that once the alcohol wears off, he’d hear Sarah’s screams, feel her becoming lifeless in his arms—reliving that night all over again.

It’s already nighttime when Joel stands up from the table, swaying slightly from side to side as he begins making his way to the door. He pulls on his boots and his coat before leaving his house with the front door slamming shut. He knows he should stay home, but you’re calling out to him and he needs you.

Joel steps inside the Tipsy Bison as his eyes search for you. The sound of the chatter and music becomes increasingly loud for him and he stumbles to the counter of the bar and slurs to Seth that he wants a glass of whiskey. The older man doesn’t say anything, just nods and retrieves the glass and alcohol like he was asked.

He lowers his head in his hands, eyes falling shut as he tries to drown out the sound. The laughter around him angers him—how can anyone be happy in this fucking world? When Seth sets the drink down in front of him, Joel picks it up and brings it to his lips until someone nearby bumps into him roughly. His drink falls on his lap and Joel curses under his breath as he turns to the other man with narrowed eyes.

“Watch where you’re goin’,” Joel threatens.

“Sorry, man.” The younger man cowers in fear, staring up at Joel. “I—I’ll be more careful and—”

“Joel?”

His head whips around instantly at the sound of your voice. Joel feels a sense of relief wash over him and his heart races faster when he finally sees you. To anyone else, Joel looks like he just wants to be alone, but to you… You can see the pain etched on his features.

The younger man quickly walks away once Joel’s attention is diverted away from him and now to you. You whisper something to Seth and the older man nods in agreement. You remove your apron and walk around the counter to where Joel is now standing.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” You whisper softly. You don’t touch him, afraid that if you do he’s going to shut down and run from you. Instead, you wait—patiently—until he makes the first move.

“You got work, angel,” Joel slurs.

“Not tonight. Seth can handle it. Right, Seth?” You call out.

The older man nods. “That’s right. Go on home, Joel.”

Joel doesn’t bother looking at Seth because he’s looking directly at you—eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I don’t want to bother—”

“Enough of that, okay?” You interrupt him. “Let’s get you home.” Then, you slowly extend your hand out for him.

Joel nods once and then takes your hand. You hear him let out a shaky breath as your hand grips his own—steady, strong. Once you lead him outside, Joel pulls you close to his side. You don’t say anything throughout the entire walk back to his house, but you can feel how tightly he’s gripping your hand.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles.

“Don’t be,” you answer. “There’s nothing you need to be sorry for, Joel.” It sounds so simple when it leaves your lips and he can’t help but look at you as you lead him back home.

You release his hand only to wrap your arm around his waist, taking one of his arms to drape around your shoulders. You open his front door and take notice—immediately—of the empty bottle of whiskey at his dining table. You don’t say anything about it though, instead just leading him further inside until you gently set him down on his couch. Joel falls back and rests his head against the back of the couch as you move to sit on the coffee table across from him.

You don’t say anything, but you can hear his heavy breaths filter the living room. You see his hands shaking on his lap as he tries so hard to keep it still. Leaning forward, you move your hands to rest over his own. He looks up at you and you can see the pain in his deep brown eyes, tears slowly trickling down his cheeks.

“Hey,” you whisper. “I’m right here, okay?”

Joel doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you. He can feel his hands still shaking, but you squeeze it reassuringly in your grip. He doesn’t usually showcase his emotions like this, especially not with someone he had just met a month and a half ago.

But you look at him like you understand exactly what he’s feeling and you don’t judge him for it. There’s a quiet patience in your demeanor and it grounds him.

Quietly—almost breathless—Joel whispers, “Sarah… I—I saw an infected young girl that looked like Sarah. I couldn’t—I couldn’t move. Someone’s dead because of me. I shouldn’t have gone on patrol, shouldn’t have—” his breath catches in his throat as he drops his eyes to the floor.

You release his hands, only so that you can stand up and sit next to him on the couch. He can feel the heat of your body next to his and he scoots closer to you. When Joel feels your arm drape around his shoulders, he turns his head and buries his face against the crook of your neck. He feels so vulnerable like this—tears strolling down his cheeks, talking about his babygirl… and it scares him because he knows that this world can take you away from him too.

But he can’t let you go.

He doesn’t want to.

“I’m sorry,” you say, hand running along his back soothingly. “I’m sorry that you had to go through that.” Joel melts into you and his arm comes around to wrap around your waist, almost pulling you onto his lap but not quite. “You did all that you could do, Joel. Today and back then.”

“I failed her,” he mumbles into you. “I failed Ellie… I fail everyone that I care about,” he admits. “It’s only a matter of time before I fail you too, angel.”

Slowly, you move your hands to cup his cheeks and lift his head from your shoulder. Your nose brushes against his as he stares up at you—eyes wide and red from the tears that had fallen. “Stop.”

“What—”

“Stop,” you interrupt. “You’ve helped me become myself again in this last month or so… I wasn’t living, not really,” you admit. “I was just waiting for when it would be my turn to go, but you—I get excited every day and that’s because of you. You could never fail me, Joel… and you never failed Ellie or Sarah.” Your thumbs brush away the tears.

“People around Jackson used to talk a lot about you—how dangerous and scary you are, how many people you killed, how brutal you can be,” you continue, eyes deviating to his lips and back up to his eyes before he could notice. “But they didn’t understand that’s just how you have to be to make sure the people you love are safe. I never saw you as this big scary man, Joel.” You lean forward and press a soft kiss on his forehead, resting your lips there for a moment as you shut your eyes. “I saw a man that would burn the entire world if anyone he loved was hurt and I thought, how lucky those people were to have you in their lives.”

Joel shuts his eyes as he listens to your voice, how your words make his heart race faster. The things he did, the people he hurt—it was always to survive, to make sure that the people he cared about were safe.

Tommy. Ellie. Tess. Sarah.

And now, you.

“You’re allowed to have shitty days, Joel. What you do for this community… is more than what others can say. You’re allowed to just… rest.”

“Angel,” he whispers. Joel slowly pulls back and looks down at you.

“Don’t even argue,” you interrupt as your lips curl into a small smile. “Will you take tomorrow off?”

“I don’t—” Joel sighs. “I don’t know if I can do that. I don’t think having some quiet time is good f’me right now.”

“Well, how about you come and volunteer to help me in the classroom?”

“I don’t think I’m a good teacher either,” he answers.

“Who said you’d be teaching?” That made him smile. “You can help me read to my students, how’s that?”

Joel bites the inside of his cheek as his eyes deviate to your lips. His gaze lingers as he parts his own lips and his arm around you tightens. “Okay,” he answers. “Okay, angel.”

You catch him by surprise when you lean in to kiss his cheek, hands moving to gently push him away. You’re about to stand up when he looks up at you with those goddamn brown eyes with his brows furrowed together.

“Will you be okay?” you ask.

“Can you—” Joel sighs and shakes his head, almost like he’s shaking away the lingering thought in his mind. “Yeah, I’ll be okay, darlin’.”

“You sure?”

He wants to ask you if you can stay, if you can keep him company just for the night, but he knows that he shouldn’t. Instead, he just nods and allows you to stand up from the couch. He reaches for your hand and gently kisses your knuckles before releasing his hold on you.

“Okay,” you whisper. “If you need anything, just come over.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nods. “I remember my promise, don’t worry.”

Joel stands up from the couch and leads you to his front door. He opens it and watches you cross the threshold onto his front porch until you turn around and wrap your arms around him tightly. He lets out a heavy sigh, his strong arms encompassing you as he holds you flush against him.

He could hold you like this forever… because for some reason, there’s something about you that chases away the demons that haunt him.

“Good night, Joel.”

“Night, angel.” When he pulls away, he looks down at you and notices how you make no effort to move. Joel’s brow furrows and he can sense your hesitation, your worry that is clearly shown on your features. “I’ll be okay.”

“I just—” you sigh and look down at your feet, biting your lower lip. “If you wanted me to stay, I could. I wouldn’t mind.”

Joel tries not to smile, tries to ignore the way his heart skips a beat and the feeling in the pit of his stomach does flips. “Would that be okay?” he asks quietly.

Your eyes look up at him—surprised, shocked, relieved. “Maybe we can keep each other company for tonight?”

Joel nods instantly. “Please,” he whispers. Then, he reaches for your hand and pulls you back into the warmth of his home and into his arms—right where you belong.

taglist: @greenwitchfromthewoods @probablyreadinsmut @yxtkiwiyxt @brittmb115 @dendulinka6 @missladym1981 @picketniffler @cuppajoel @vickie5446 @ashleyfilm @orcasoul @deesparticus

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honeyhonest · 2 days ago

Note

Waaait requests are still open right??

I'm pretty sure you've already talked about it but just in case you'd wanna expand on the subject, since it's bleeding out time for those of us who've aligned; nsfw period headcanons with whoever you'd wanna? I think it'd be very funny to not tell Crowley and just let him screech when he pulls down reader's underwear, headmage of a boys' school who's never touched a woman and talks to one maybe once every 5 five years at best, if he ever knew periods exist he's probably forgotten about it centuries ago

who am I to deny a little period headcanon post...

minors get blocked, 18+ only

✧˖°. period thoughts

warnings: gn afab!reader (you/yours pronouns), reader is not specified to be yuu, both fluff AND smut, established relationship, mentions of blood, fingering, cunnilingus, and penetrative sex

characters: all staff + fellow + dylla 💞 + lilia FOR YOU!!!

length: short headcanons!

✧˖°.Dire Crowley

the mental image of him screaming and passing out upon seeing a Blood is good, but he just awkwardly dances around the matter until he can make an escape- period? what period! he didn't notice anything, he just remembered he left the coffee machine on in the staff room! and Crewel had asked him for a... a thing... yes! those papers! so he'd better deliver those right away! and then do his school rounds one more time, can never be too safe at Night Raven! (if he ever gets over the awkwardness, he would like period sex; but let him figure that out on his own) Mr. Dire Crowley, however, is never one to turn away a chance to manipulate your emotions! he might coerce you into extra cuddles by bringing you cheap chocolate or wine or whatever it is he's got sitting around unopened- and he thinks he's quite brilliant for playing your period to his advantage, while you're thinking you're rather clever for luring him into giving you free food and attention (this is just what dating him is like, I'm afraid) he may also be persuaded to massage your sore spots, if only because the cool metal of his dull talons with the warmth of his hands is Peak Period Comfort

✧˖°.Mozus Trein

DOES NOT CARE!!! he's not some fickle teenage boy or a man with a fetish, he's just an adult who was married for several years and has daughters- periods are perfectly normal. granted, he hasn't had a partner to tend to in years, but he handles you with grace- that is, not pissing you off and you can expect him to stock up on pads in his apartment and on campus without being asked, and he's always got the finest dark chocolates, cheese boards, and rich wines to satisfy your cravings, no matter what they are sex neither picks up nor is avoided during your monthly; if it happens, it happens, and if it doesn't, it doesn't. your period doesn't bother him, but he'd still be willing to lend a hand if it would alleviate some of your pain- "Better than having to hear your whining", as he likes to say (LOVINGLY)

✧˖°.Divus Crewel

blood is hot and that's all there is to it, doesn't matter where it's coming from! okay now get on the floor, these sheets were six thousand thaumarks JOKING, Crewel isn't afraid of a little mess- nor is he of getting his hands dirty, which, trust me, he will. he'll be knuckle deep in the pussy, enjoying how much more sensitive and wet you are <3 orgasms help period cramps, he swears by it! he won't let you go to bed without a healthy dose of dick to help you sleep he insists on doing your nightly routine for you (as if his micromanaging problem couldn't get any WORSE) so you don't get too greasy or look too tired come morning, and as much as you'd like to complain, he does a really good job- you never look as vibrant as you do when he's had you in some fancy face mask and fed you egg white omelettes all week. can't have his favorite pet feeling unwell, after all <3

✧˖°.Sam

Sam is the sort of man to always carry pain meds on him in case your cramps start acting up. he'll happily stay up with you, deep into the night when you can't sleep, laughing with you and making tasty drinks to pass the time. he's no horny beast, but a true romantic when you're not feeling yourself. he's always on call for you, definitely reminds you how good you look even when you're bloated and exhausted and breaking out (speaking of which, there's always just something about you when you're hormonal and moody that just makes him melt. maybe it's how human it is, maybe it's because he likes being relied on, but he can hardly keep his hands to himself, expect a lot of sneak-attack kisses all over your neck and shoulders)

✧˖°.Ashton Vargas

as much as you don't want to (and for as many pillows you've thrown at him when he's tried to pull you outside), Vargas INSISTS that the only proper treatment for period pains is a good workout. the first time he saw you hunched over and whining about being hungry, he dragged you into the great outdoors for a four-hour hike... you can imagine how that went over since then, he's found a much more comfortable remedy for at-home period relief: annoying amounts of sex!!! it's a full-body workout, it stretches all the important muscles, and it affects the problem area directly- he'll put you in all kinds of weird positions to take the pressure off your uterus (and to tire you out so you don't start trying to bite his fingers off again)

✧˖°.Fellow Honest

Fellow had heard of periods, but they've never really impacted his life until he met you. at first, he didn't really get it: you're obviously very horny and bothered by it, but you don't want to fuck? is he getting that right? what is he supposed to do, magic it away? ...it took a few days of him getting kicked out of bed before he learned to watch it with the snide remarks. and then he understood that you felt bad. and not just ate-dumpster-food bad, but gross, unattractive, unfuckable. and though he thinks that's insane, because you're never too gross for him to fuck, he knew he had to be more delicate with you: praising you, complimenting you, telling you how sexy you look (and smell- period blood's got a little something to it that his sensitive nose picks up just right), and THEN he gets to fuck the pain out. imagine his delight upon realizing that you're more sensitive on your period! and afterwards, he lies over your stomach and works as a very satisfied heating pad. (also enjoys massaging your tummy- soft and warm and good)

✧˖°.Dylla Spade

my wife... I just KNOW she's got the full period package at home; the nice cotton pads, hot water bottles, snacks, enough pain medication to fill the Epcot Ball, and every season of her favorite reality TV show, taped and ready to rewatch while she fingers you on the couch. this is as luxurious as it gets on this list, she Gets It one must also imagine taking care of Dylla on HER period, too. she insists you don't have to do anything for her, she's fine "toughing it on her own" (it's what she's always done, after all), but I can't imagine she'd be anything but horny at the slightest provocations. one must imagine eating her out and making her cum three, four, five times, until she's gotten all of it out of her system, or outercourse, grinding on each other through your pajamas in bed...

✧˖°.Lilia Vanrouge

at this point, Lilia and period sex are basically synonymous with each other, he is in the blood like thoseferatu, he is eating period pussy like his life depends on it. also hot for him? outercourse! rubbing your hips or lower back through your pajamas to work out the soreness, his hand ~magically~ slips between your legs to work out the tension there, too. finds you completely irresistible, crawling all over you all week on the fluffy side, he'd... well, he'd still be crawling all over you all week, but like, cutely! hanging off your side and lovingly asking if you'd like him to make you a snack (SAY NO) or if you'd like more kissies (you don't get a choice with this one). takes you everywhere with him- you're his poor sick beloved angel OKAY!!! unfortunately the kind of guy to point at your uterus and say "stop hurting my partner!!! >:("

#twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #dire crowley x reader #mozus trein x reader #divus crewel x reader #twst sam x reader #ashton vargas x reader #fellow honest x reader #dylla spade x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader

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stargrillzz · 3 days ago

Text

MAD IN LOVE

SUMMARY: endless mixed feelings, no matter how bad it is, it doesn't seem possible to get him out of your head.

NOTE: you always return to where you were happy, and I was happy reading Rafe's fics.xoxo

DIFFERENT

The music store wasn’t glamorous, but it had a heartbeat.

The soft buzz of vintage amplifiers, faint hum of a guitar track looping through the speakers, and the smell of old records and pine cleaner gave the small space its own kind of rhythm. You leaned against the counter, tapping a pen idly on the register while watching the minute hand crawl toward closing time. Twenty more minutes. Just twenty, and then freedom—then surfing, laughter, sunlight, and the only real family you'd ever known.

The bell above the door chimed, and your tired gaze lifted lazily. But then you smiled, immediately brighter.

Kiara and Sarah swept into the store like a gust of salt-tinged wind, both wearing messy ponytails, sandy shoes, and the smug grins of girls carrying a secret.

"And those happy faces?" you teased, pretending to squint suspiciously. "Did John B finally ask you to marry him?"

Sarah laughed, her head tilting back. "Almost."

Kiara bumped her hip against yours and leaned on the counter. “Tonight’s the party of the summer. So before we even touch our boards, we’re going shopping.”

You grimaced playfully. “Shopping. Right. With which money? Because my wallet is currently crying in a fetal position under my bed.”

Kiara rolled her eyes. “You’re dramatic.”

You lowered your voice. “Guys, I seriously can’t spend anything right now. Rent’s due and—” You paused, embarrassed. You hated how easily your reality bled through when you least wanted it to.

Sarah immediately cut in. “Then we’ll go to my place. Problem solved.”

You raised a brow. “Are you serious?”

She gave you that look—confident, kind, impossibly golden. “That’s what friends are for. You think I don’t hoard half the store every time I go into town? You’ll leave my closet looking like a goddess.”

You hesitated, heart full but pride bruised.

“Come on,” Kiara nudged. “Let us spoil you for one night.”

You finally smiled, cheeks warm. “Fine. But only if I don’t have to wear heels.”

—

It was strange how quickly you forgot where you were until you were standing in front of the Cameron estate.

It rose like a monument out of the trees, all white walls and clean-cut hedges, expensive silence hanging over it like fog. You always felt slightly out of place there, like your presence upset some invisible balance. But Sarah made you feel safe—Kiara too. So you followed them up the stairs with a surfboard bag slung over one shoulder and your old Vans squeaking against the polished floors.

Laughter echoed through the upstairs hall as Sarah opened her bedroom door, beckoning you in. You stepped into her light-drenched room, already eyeing the walk-in closet like it was Narnia.

“Just grab whatever speaks to you,” Sarah said, tossing you a pair of jeans. “We’ll mix and match.”

But before you could even make it to the pile of tank tops, you felt something.

That presence.

The energy in the air changed like a cold draft slipping through a cracked window.

You turned—and there he was.

Rafe Cameron.

Leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed, that same unreadable expression on his face like he was always thinking something he’d never say out loud. He didn’t flinch when you looked at him. If anything, he smiled.

Slow. Crooked. Like he’d been waiting.

His eyes flicked down and then up again, pausing just long enough to make your skin feel hot.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said casually, voice thick with something you didn’t want to name.

You didn’t say anything. Just blinked.

Kiara saw him next. Her shoulders tensed immediately, lips pressing into a hard line.

“Keep walking,” she muttered under her breath, hand brushing your lower back as she guided you forward.

You followed her lead. Not because you were afraid of him. But because you weren’t sure what would happen if you didn’t.

—

Half an hour later, Sarah’s bed was covered in clothes. Your arms were full of borrowed outfits. Kiara was arguing with Sarah about the superiority of combat boots over wedges when you excused yourself.

“Be right back. Bathroom.”

You slipped into the hallway quietly, head down, trying to remember which door was which.

And then—

“Hey.”

His voice froze you.

You looked up, halfway between fight or flight. Rafe was standing just a few feet away, like he’d materialized out of thin air. Maybe he had.

He looked different in this light. Softer somehow. Like the sun spilling through the window had rounded out the sharp edges of his face. But his eyes—his eyes were still the same shade of blue that made you feel like the tide was about to pull you under.

“What do you want?” you asked, arms folding instinctively.

He didn’t move toward you. Not yet.

“You look really pretty today,” he said simply.

There was no smirk. No arrogance. Just honesty. Raw and unexpected.

Your breath hitched slightly. You weren’t used to kindness from him. At least not the kind that wasn’t wrapped in tension or sarcasm.

“Thanks,” you said, quieter than you intended.

“I mean it,” he added.

You nodded once. “I need to use the bathroom.”

He stepped back, barely.

“I’ll be downstairs… if you wanna hang out,” he said. “Watch a movie or something.”

You stopped.

The ask wasn’t aggressive. It wasn’t pushy. But it felt dangerous anyway. Not in the way he looked, or the things he’d done—but in how you wanted to say yes.

And you hated that.

“No, thanks.”

He tilted his head, almost disappointed. “Why not?”

You exhaled through your nose. “Because it doesn’t make sense. Because we shouldn’t. Because I don’t want to.”

That part—I don’t want to—wasn’t even fully true. But it had to be said.

He looked down. Then back up.

“Why not?” he repeated, softer this time.

Your stomach twisted. “You know why. I’m not the one to stop you. I’m not judging you. Believe me, I’m the last person who would. But I can’t act like nothing’s happening when you go through life hurting and humiliating the people I love.”

You let the words settle. He didn’t move.

“You might be kind to me,” you added. “But you’re cruel to them. That’s not nothing. That’s not invisible.”

He blinked once, slowly.

“I’m not the villain you think I am.”

You shook your head. “You’re not the villain I want you to be. That’s the worst part.”

He took a small step forward, almost pleading now. “I don’t know how to be different with them. With you... it’s not the same.”

“But we are the same,” you whispered, voice cracking. “We both come from chaos. But you keep choosing to burn everything that loves you.”

He didn’t respond. Just stared at you like you were the first real thing he’d seen all day.

You turned toward the bathroom, hand on the door.

“I’m not the one who needs saving, Rafe. Not this time.”

And you stepped inside, closing the door gently—but firmly—behind you.

Leaving him alone in the hallway with nothing but your words echoing in his chest.

BURNING STARES

The Chateau buzzed with energy, still carrying the scent of sunscreen and sea salt in its beams. The walls had soaked up the heat of the long day, and now, as the sun dipped low and gold streaked across the horizon, the entire place vibrated with anticipation. Everyone was getting ready for the beach party — but when you stepped out of the room Sarah and Kiara had transformed into a mini salon, everything stopped for a beat.

Your boots clicked softly on the wooden floor as you walked down the narrow hallway, smoothing your palms over your thighs. The makeup was subtle but transformative. The black halter crop top showed just enough skin to make your nerves hum, and the fitted skirt — borrowed from Sarah — hugged your hips like it was made for you. You’d never worn anything quite like it before. Never felt quite like this before.

As you walked into the room, John B’s eyes widened like he just saw a UFO. “Holy shit.”

You raised a brow, arms crossed. “What?”

He grinned. “I didn’t know you were a woman.”

With a dramatic gasp, you hurled a pillow at his head but laughing your ass off.

Pope looked up from the couch, a kind smile lighting up his face. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, Pope.” You softened, touched in a way you didn’t expect.

And then — of course — came him.

JJ was leaning against the kitchen counter with a beer in hand, his button-down open, windblown blond hair still messy from the beach. He was grinning before you even looked at him.

“Damn,” he whistled, scanning you head to toe with a slow, exaggerated motion. “I think I just got a boner.”

You laughed under your breath, but didn’t look directly at him. That only egged him on.

“Like, for real. That outfit should come with a warning label.”

You finally turned to him, lips curving. “And what would the warning say?”

“‘Caution: May cause cardiac arrest in blond degenerates named JJ,’” he said proudly.

Kiara rolled her eyes. “You’re a menace.”

JJ winked. “Tell that to her.” He leaned toward you just enough to drop his voice. “So, if I play my cards right, any chance I’m your date tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “You gonna buy me dinner first?”

“Pfft. I’d steal you dinner and build you a raft to sail away with me. I’m romantic like that.”

You snorted, shaking your head as Sarah grabbed your hand and dragged you toward the door. “Come on, seductress. If you make him flirt any harder, he’s gonna trip over his own ego.”

JJ called after you, “I like tripping over you!”

You didn’t answer. But you smiled all the way to the beach.

The party was everything a summer night should be.

Bonfires crackled up and down the shore, casting flickers of orange across bronzed skin and wind-tousled hair. People danced barefoot in the sand, their laughter swallowed up by music that pulsed from cheap speakers tied to pickup truck beds. Someone was handing out rum in coconuts, and there was more weed in the air than oxygen.

You let the rhythm guide you, moving easily between groups, sipping something sweet from a red Solo cup. JJ found you every few minutes with another dumb compliment or joke, throwing an arm around your shoulders and whispering things that made you laugh louder than you meant to.

“You sure you don’t wanna dance with me?” he asked at one point, his hands already extended like he was about to twirl you.

“I’m not drunk enough for that.”

“Challenge accepted,” he said, walking off with determination toward the coolers.

For a while, it was perfect.

But as the night wore on, the crowd felt heavier. Louder. Hotter. You found yourself needing air, needing quiet. You slipped away, climbing up the dunes just far enough that the music dimmed to a heartbeat and the ocean waves became clear again, curling and collapsing against the shore.

The stars above you were sharp and infinite. You hugged your arms, breathed in deep, let the night wrap around you.

And then—

“You always sneak off when you look that good?”

Your heart jumped.

You turned fast.

Rafe Cameron stood at your side, hands in his pockets, eyes locked on you like he already knew every thought in your head.

You hadn’t even known he was at the party. You definitely hadn’t seen him arrive. But now he was here. Too close. Too real.

You tried to control your voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Watching you,” he said simply, his eyes drinking you in. “Clearly.”

You narrowed your eyes. “This is a Pogue party. Thought you’d rather die.”

“Maybe,” he smirked, stepping forward slightly, “but you make dying look like a good time.”

You turned your head, pulse racing. “I didn’t come here for drama.”

He tilted his head, voice dropping. “No? Then why are you dressed like that?”

Your stomach twisted.

“I don’t owe you an answer,” you said flatly.

Rafe didn’t back off.

“JJ seems to think he’s got a shot with you,” he murmured, eyes dark and hot. “He’s been all over you tonight. Laughing, touching. All that boyish charm shit.”

“He’s my friend.”

Rafe’s lip curled. “He wants more than that.”

You crossed your arms. “And what—you’re jealous now?”

“I’m not jealous,” he said. “I’m pissed.”

You blinked. “That’s worse.”

He stepped even closer.

“I’m not gonna pretend to like your friends,” he said, voice rough. “I don’t give a shit about them. And I’m not sorry for anything I’ve done. But I see the way you look at me when you think no one’s watching.”

He was right in front of you now. His scent — that stupid mix of salt and sweat and expensive cologne — wrapped around you like a noose.

“You could hate me,” he whispered. “I’d still want you.”

You swallowed hard.

“This is stupid.”

“Maybe,” he said, his hand brushing your arm. “But tell me to leave.”

You didn’t.

He leaned down, voice a little breathier now.

“You shouldn't look that good,” he whispered near your ear. “Not if you’re gonna act like I’m not allowed to want you.”

Your breath hitched.

And then his mouth was on yours.

The kiss wasn’t soft. It was all teeth and heat and fingers gripping your waist like he wanted to brand himself into your skin. You hated how good it felt. How your body leaned into him before your brain even caught up. How easy it was to fall into him, to let yourself forget.

But it didn’t last.

The sound of someone calling your name in the distance broke the spell.

You gasped, pulling back. Your lips were swollen. Your mind scrambled.

“I—I have to go,” you stammered, stepping back fast, avoiding his eyes.

Rafe didn’t follow. Just watched you with that same unreadable expression. Hungry. Possessive. Like he’d just gotten a taste and would never stop now.

You didn’t look back.

But all night long, no matter how close JJ stood beside you, you felt him.

Watching you.

Like he already knew this wouldn’t be the last time.

I WOULD NEVER

The music store wasn’t busy that morning.

A few people came in, aimlessly browsing old records or asking if you had aux cables. The place always smelled like vinyl and dust, and the hum of the ceiling fan above kept the air from getting too heavy. You’d been restocking the cassettes in the back when the little bell on the front door rang.

“Hey, welcome in,” you called out over your shoulder without really looking. Your fingers continued shifting through a disorganized pile of tapes.

Silence.

You turned.

And froze.

There, standing in the middle of the store like he belonged in another world entirely, was Rafe Cameron.

And he was holding a bouquet.

It wasn’t a small, gas station arrangement either. It was large and beautiful — too many deep red roses, eucalyptus, something else that looked expensive and probably wasn’t even local. Wrapped in dark brown paper and tied with a black ribbon. The kind of flowers no one in your life had ever given you.

He wore a dark t-shirt and loose jeans, one hand tucked in his pocket, his jaw sharp and his expression unreadable.

You blinked. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I came to see you,” he said plainly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“At my job?” Your voice edged toward a whisper. You glanced toward the front door like someone might walk in and see this happening. “Rafe—”

“I wanted to bring you something.”

He took a few steps closer and held out the flowers.

You didn’t move.

“Is it some kind of joke?”

“No,” he said, voice steady. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

You couldn’t answer. Because no — he didn’t. He looked serious. Too serious. His face was calm, but his eyes burned, locked onto you like a laser. You took the flowers from him slowly, still watching him like he might do something impulsive.

“They’re… pretty,” you said, uncertain. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

You placed them gently on the counter. “Why?”

He smiled, slow and strange. “Because I’ve been thinking about you.”

You swallowed. Hard.

“Last night—” he started, and stopped. “You looked so good. I couldn’t stop watching you. And when you kissed me—”

“I didn’t kiss you, Rafe,” you interrupted, voice trembling slightly. “You kissed me.”

“And you didn’t stop me,” he said, that grin widening for just a second before fading. “You could’ve shoved me away. Slapped me. Screamed. You didn’t.”

You hesitated. Your heart was beating faster now.

“I don’t know what you’re doing,” you said slowly, stepping back behind the counter like it might offer protection. “But this can’t happen. You showing up here? With flowers? That’s not… you.”

“I’d do anything for you,” he said suddenly. His voice wasn’t raised — if anything, it dropped lower. “You think that’s not me? You don’t know what I’d do to keep you. I’d give up everything else. I’d cut people out. I don’t need anyone.”

You stared at him. “You’re scaring me.”

His brows drew together. “Why? I’m being honest.”

“No, you’re being intense.”

He took another step forward, voice tightening. “You don’t get it. Whatever wrong I do — whatever fucked up shit I get into — I’d never hurt you. Ever.”

The way he said it made the air feel thinner.

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks,” he said, eyes narrowing slightly, like he was talking to himself now. “Your friends? They hate me. I know. That’s fine. I’d still burn everything down just to be close to you.”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. The words were too big. The silence between you grew louder.

Then—softly, like a switch flipping—his voice shifted.

“You looked so sweet behind that counter,” he murmured, gaze dragging over you, slower this time. “Like you didn’t even know how hot you are. All innocent with your little name tag and messy hair.”

You took a shaky breath.

“I could fuck you right here,” he whispered. “I could make you forget why you hate me.”

Your hands clenched into fists against the counter.

“But I won’t,” he added, stepping back a little. “Because you’re not ready.”

That was almost worse.

You didn’t know what to say.

He looked down for a moment, then up again, softer — but not safer.

“I know I’m not easy,” he said. “I’m not trying to be.”

He paused. His eyes searched yours with something real, something twisted and honest.

“But I’d never lay a hand on you. I’d never scare you on purpose. I’d never be rough unless you asked me to be.”

You exhaled sharply, your chest too tight.

“I’d give you everything,” he said, almost under his breath. “Everything I’ve got. And I wouldn’t care who I had to hurt for it — as long as it wasn’t you.”

A few beats passed in silence. Your heartbeat thudded in your ears.

Then, as if it was perfectly normal, he nodded to the flowers.

“Put them in water, okay? They’re fresh.”

And just like that, he turned and walked out — the bell chiming softly behind him.

You stood frozen for a long time, hands trembling, heart caught somewhere between thrill and fear.

You weren’t sure what just happened.

But you knew it wasn’t over.

Not even close.

WRONG DIRECTION

The sun was soft on your skin — not harsh like midday, just warm enough to make your arms glow, stretched out on the faded towel beneath you. You’d come out here for yourself today. Just a quiet hour before going back to everything: work, the Chateau, the Pogues. You hadn’t even brought your phone, which was probably a mistake — but you were too tired to care.

You tugged your sunglasses down and exhaled, letting the sound of gentle waves and distant kids laughing lull you into a near nap. Your limbs were loose, your skin buzzed with sun. You’d almost forgotten what it was like to be this still.

Until you heard the crunch of footsteps in the sand behind you.

You turned your head lazily at first, expecting some tourist or someone asking to borrow sunscreen.

But then you heard his voice.

“Didn’t expect to find you here.”

You sat up quickly, heartbeat ticking faster before your brain even caught up.

Rafe.

He looked casual — in board shorts and a white tee that clung to his chest just slightly from the heat. His hair was damp like he’d just been in the water, but the moment he locked eyes with you, there was nothing relaxed about the way he watched you. He didn’t smile like a jerk or try to be cocky. He just stood there, hands in his pockets, staring at you like you were the only person on the whole beach.

You cleared your throat and pulled your sunglasses off.

“Jesus. You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to. I just… saw you from the other end.”

You didn’t say anything at first. Your towel was too small to look dignified sitting up, so you adjusted your posture, covering your legs and brushing sand off your chest. His eyes flicked down for half a second, but when they returned to yours, they were steady.

“You always come here to tan alone?” he asked, a quiet little teasing note in his voice.

“Sometimes,” you shrugged. “Didn’t know I needed permission.”

His smile twitched. “You don’t.”

He looked out at the ocean for a beat before glancing back. “I was gonna head home soon. Thought maybe you’d want to come over.”

You raised a brow.

“To your house?” you asked slowly.

“Yeah. Just to watch something. Hang out.”

You laughed once under your breath, not unkindly. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going over to Tannyhill with you.”

His smile didn’t fade. He stepped a little closer, voice softer. “You don’t have to stay long. If it gets weird, I’ll take you straight home. No pressure. I just thought—” his fingers flexed slightly in his pocket, like he was holding back— “maybe you’d want to just sit next to someone for a while. Without all the noise.”

You looked at him, lips parted, not answering yet.

He added, a little quieter, “We don’t have to talk about anything heavy. Just… a movie. Something stupid. Or funny. Or scary if you want to cling to me a little, I wouldn’t mind.”

You rolled your eyes at that, but your smile betrayed you.

“Fine,” you muttered after a pause. “But if Sarah sees me in that house—”

“She won’t,” he said quickly. “She’s out with Wheezie, I think. You’ll be in and out before they even show up.”

You gave him one last skeptical look, but when you stood and shook the sand off your towel, Rafe grabbed it before you could fold it and slung it over his shoulder. He didn't say anything, but the small gesture made something flutter in your chest you tried to ignore.

The room was darker than you expected — cozy, even. Rafe’s room wasn’t what you imagined: clean, neat, a little cold, but there were worn corners, personal touches, signs of a boy who didn’t know what to do with comfort. He handed you a bottle of water and settled beside you on the bed, remote in hand.

The movie was something mindless. You forgot the title halfway through. You were too aware of how close he was sitting — not touching, but near enough that you could feel the warmth of his arm. Every now and then, he’d glance at you sideways. You’d pretend not to notice.

Half an hour in, he turned to you, elbow propped behind his head.

“You know you’re really fucking beautiful, right?”

You gave him a dry look. “That’s subtle.”

“I mean it,” he said, quieter now. “Even when you’re annoyed with me. Especially then.”

You tried to look away, but he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping.

“I think about kissing you every damn day. Do you know what that feels like?”

You swallowed.

“Rafe—”

“I’m not trying to scare you,” he said quickly. “I just… I want you to know I mean it. I meant everything I said at the store. I don’t care what I’ve done, who hates me, how fucked up everything is — you are the only thing that makes me feel like I have something to lose.”

Your breath hitched.

“Rafe…” you whispered again, but this time, there was no sharpness in it. Just hesitation. Vulnerability.

And he saw it.

His hand came up gently, fingers brushing your jaw, then your cheek. He didn’t rush the moment — just held you there like he’d been dreaming about it for years.

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” he said softly. “Not even if you walked away right now. But I swear, if you stay... I’ll spend every second proving you don’t have to be afraid with me.”

You didn’t answer — not with words.

Instead, you leaned forward, slow and unsure, your forehead barely touching his. He didn’t move. He let you come to him. When your lips finally met, it wasn’t urgent or messy — just real. His kiss was warm and deliberate, like he’d been craving the taste of you, but he was afraid if he pushed too far, you’d vanish.

His hand slid to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing your skin.

You kissed him again. This time deeper. And he exhaled like it was the first full breath he’d taken in days.

It was just a kiss. But it felt like a turning point.

And for once, you didn’t pull away.

“Tell me you want this,” he muttered, mouth hovering over the spot just below your bellybutton. “Tell me you want me.”

You moaned, threading your fingers into his hair. “I want you.”

“Louder.” He kissed lower. “Say it like you mean it.”

“I want you, Rafe.” You gasped when his mouth hit the inside of your thigh. “I want you so fucking bad.”

That was enough.

His tongue was on you a second later — slow, skillful, filthy. He moaned into you like you were his last fucking meal. His grip was bruising on your thighs, dragging you closer, grinding you into his face with a kind of frantic reverence.

And when you came, shaking and breathless, his eyes stayed locked on yours — watching, claiming.

“Look at me when you fall apart. That’s it, baby. Let me see what I do to you.”

You barely had time to recover before he was kissing up your body again, lips slick, voice thick.

“You still want to stop?” he whispered.

You shook your head. “No. Please.”

He kissed you like he’d never stop.

You helped him out of his sweats — then he was over you, between your legs, eyes wild and full of everything he couldn’t say.

“You know what I am,” he muttered. “You know I’d ruin this whole fucking island if they touched you.”

You kissed him hard.

“I don’t care.”

He pushed into you slow — thick and deep — and both of you groaned like it physically hurt to be that close. His body shook with the restraint it took not to slam into you all at once.

“Fuck. You feel like heaven,” he hissed, forehead against yours.

You grabbed his hips. “Then take it. Take all of it.”

And he did.

Rafe fucked you like he needed to carve himself into your skin — hips snapping against yours, filthy promises spilling from his lips.

“I’ll kill for you.” “You were made for me.” “No one’s ever gonna touch you again. No one gets to see you like this but me.”

"Oh God" you scream. Feeling absolutely every inch of him growing harder and thiker inside you.

"You love how a fuck you, huh?" he kisses you harder "me cock deep inside you, giving it to you harder every time"

Every single dirty little word that came out of his tongue only made you wetter, and. that made him even harder.

"Maybe I should cum in you, what do you think?" he whispered "spill all my cum deep inside you so you're dripping every time for me, so every time JJ or any fuckying loser even smells you, they'll smeel me, that this pussy is mine"

While he was saying all this, he kept thrusting so hard, as if sticking it in you hard would make you stay with him forever. His thick cock was hitting every spot inside you.

WONDER

It started with the beach.

A week after that night in his bed, the two of you crossed paths again — like gravity pulling two doomed stars into the same orbit. You didn’t plan it. You were just walking along the dunes with your friends, the sunlight painting your skin, your sunglasses low on your nose.

Then you saw him. Standing under the pier, hands in his pockets, staring at you like a man starved.

You knew you shouldn’t have gone to him. Not with Sarah sitting ten feet away, not with JJ sprawled on a towel cracking jokes, not with Pope and John B shouting about a wave they were going to ride.

But you did.

You slipped away like you always did. Quiet. Breathless.

And Rafe was waiting behind one of the support beams, grabbing your wrist the second you were close enough, yanking you into the shadowed space between the pillars.

“Missed you,” he murmured, lips already dragging along your throat, his hand slipping under your bikini bottoms without preamble, his breath hot. “You know what I want.”

And god help you, you wanted it too.

You always did.

Then it was the bathroom at The Wreck. Then it was his truck behind the dunes after dark. Then it was the back of the music store during your shift — the door locked, his palm over your mouth to muffle the sounds you made.

You didn’t know how it became routine. Just that it did.

That every time you locked eyes, something in you clicked open. And something in him cracked.

You knew it was dangerous. You knew someone would catch on.

But every time Rafe whispered, “Mine,” against your skin — every time his hands gripped your hips like they were the only things keeping him sane — you forgot how to say no.

You forgot how to care.

Until one afternoon, back at the store, after a particularly breathless encounter where he'd bent you over the counter between stacks of vinyl, you slumped back into your chair, trying to catch your breath as you adjusted your clothes.

Rafe leaned down and kissed the side of your face. Tender, like it was all innocent.

But your heart was racing. Not just from what he did. But from what you felt.

You glanced at him, unsure. “Rafe…”

His thumb was already on your lips, quieting you. “Don’t.”

You pulled away just enough to speak. “What is this?”

He blinked at you slowly, head tilted like the question didn’t make sense.

“I mean,” you continued, “we keep doing this. Over and over. Like we can’t stop. But it’s just... it’s sex, right? I mean, it can’t be more than that.”

He was quiet for a second, watching you.

Then he stepped between your knees again, his large hands wrapping around your thighs, grounding you in place.

“You really think I’d let you give yourself to me like that,” he said softly, eyes dark, “and then just walk around letting some other guy touch you?”

Your breath caught.

He leaned in closer, his mouth brushing your jaw.

“You think I’d let someone else have you? Touch you? Look at you?”

You swallowed.

“You’re mine,” he growled, voice suddenly sharp. “And I’m yours. That’s all there is to it. Call it what you want, but this? this is everything to me”

“It feels like something else,” you said, voice quiet. “It feels like something real.”

He went still.

And then — with no warning — he kissed you hard. Not just hungry, not just rough.

Devoted.

The kind of kiss that made your skin feel electric and your spine melt. His hands curled tighter around your thighs, like he was scared you’d disappear.

“You don’t need to worry about what we are,” he said after he pulled away, breath still hot against your lips. “You feel it. I feel it. That’s all that matters.”

“But—"

“No.” He kissed your temple. “No doubts. Not about me. Not about this.”

You looked down, your chest aching. “This can’t last forever.”

He smiled then, slow and almost cruelly confident. “It will. You just don’t know it yet.”

Then he stood upright, adjusting himself like it was nothing, grabbing his hoodie off the hook as he headed toward the door. Before he left, he glanced back.

“You’re coming over tonight,” he said. “You don’t have to pack anything. You’re staying.”

Then he was gone.

And all you could do was sit there — sweaty, flushed, and spinning — heart hammering while you wondered whether he was right.

Whether you’d already become his

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missmurbertime · 2 days ago

Text

Sans can’t sleep in silence. I mean. He can. But it’s hard. Oftentimes he has music playing softly or a video on his phone he fell asleep to. But he can’t sleep in silence very easily.

Red sleeps easiest when he can hear his brother snoring. Edge has always snored out loud. Louder than most. That is the best thing to put him to sleep. Mostly to remind himself that he is safe and not alone.

Blue sleeps in the dead silence. He doesn’t get worked up or need any noise. The quiet is perfect. Especially after a good workout or house keeping chores.

Horror cannot do quiet. Not at all. Bring back too much. He chose a fan when he first got there. A loud industrial fan that they use in wear houses. The loud fan is the perfect white noise to him. Grounding him and making him sleep easier

Dust is very similar. The silence brings too many demons. His favorite is thunderstorms. He has a little white noise box that plays the sound of rainstorms too. A gift from you. He adores it.

Killer can do anything. Lucky jerk. He can sleep at the drop of a hat. Anywhere and every where. The couch? Easy. The chair? Doable. A damn park bench? Dude we were gone for a minute how did you pass out. Noise or no noise he is fine

Error needs noise. Something. Anything. He isn’t good in the quiet. Most of the time he stays in the room next to edge or horror. The sounds are enough to coax him to sleep. But sometimes he plays classical music too

Nightmare prefers silence. It helps him center himself. No noise. No expectations. Just himself and his thoughts. It is relaxing to him

Fresh likes a fan. Simple as that. He doesn’t need it per se. But he likes it. It’s is soothing. But he sleep like a princess with silky sheets and fluffy pillows in a huge mound and a fan. Black out curtains too so he can get up when he wants to, and yes. He sleeps in long sleeved purple silk pajamas

Ink doesn’t care. Honestly. Because when he is ready to sleep he simply does. He just uses a bit of a cocktail of pain to relax him and he will nod off. But he likes to just relax in from of the tv and sleep too.

Dream is a little different. Because he loves white noise. But not one you’d think. You didn’t notice for a long time, but there is a fireplace in the basement. And during the winter dream sleeps on the couch in front of it. The crackling sounds and warmth always make him sleepy and happy

Papyrus is used to the silence. So he doesn’t mind it. It’s comforting in a way. But he worries for his brother. So he often times will sleep near him if only to make sure he is feeling ok. Which leads to him sleeping to the sound of the science videos he watches

Edge is a beast! He doesn’t need anything! Well..maybe one thing. Maybe just..a little noise. Like the air conditioner or heating to kick on. Something soft. Low. Not too much noise. But a tiny bit

Sweets it’s pretty similar to horror. He knows they are both messed up from their time in their broken world. And the silence brings back too much pain and hurt and HUNGER. So he get the industrial fan too. Just like horror.

Stretch wears headphones to bed. He is a music junkie. He is always playing something. For sleep it’s something soothing but sometimes if it’s a bad day, he will choose metal or alternative just to relax

Sci most times sleeps in his lab. The beeping and fans of the machinery more than enough to relax him on the days he lets himself take a break. Even if that isn’t often until you show up and demand for him to sit down and take care of himself

But for each and every one of them, the prefer your breathing. Your heartbeat. You. Because nothing helps them rest more than you in their arms.

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ijustwanttobegolden · 1 day ago

Text

𝔹𝕖𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕕 𝔻𝕦𝕥𝕪

Bodyguard chan!

Christopher Chan is your most recent assigned bodyguard up to date (not only because he is the best of the best but because the others found it hard to handle your spoiled ass, unable to keep up with your impulsiveness and crazy adventures which put the job to the extreme) chan however, sticks around. Professional and fully capable of handling the intensity of you - In control when it came to protecting you but not in control of falling for you. Chan is in LOVE. When you start going on forcing yourself on fake dates with the newest heart throb on social media - for image and press purposes - you discover chan is more overly protective then he should be but without a doubt there is something that lingers between you both that can't be ignored.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Warnings: mild language. mentions of threat. Feelings of jealousy. Mature content applied.

(I can't get the keep reading link to work, don't hate me, it is a long fic, so sorry guys!!!)

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You drove him crazy from the moment he started the job, a job he lived and breathed (the long hours made that quote quite literal) but he was highly skilled and top of his game in this expertise. It was a job that he was overly experienced in and was classed as the best in the industry so how could he not live and breathe it when he was king and making big bucks. He was trusted to work with some of the most high up people around the globe and so this job was without a doubt moulded for him, your managers insisted. Not only did you need a bodyguard but someone to fully take charge and discipline you, the others were WEAK. That's how you drove him crazy. Not only were you an impulsive rising star, always pushing boundaries, breaking rules and protocols (sometimes your way of throwing mini tantrums in protest - the whole - I just want more freedom thing) but you were constantly teasing and testing on purpose. just for fun. It was fun stressing 'channie' out. Teasing him was so difficult but also so easy at the same time, although he was a tough one to crack, so dedicating, so professional, so strict. The man had so much patience that it was almost you that was going crazy but through all that stubbornness of his, you drove him absolutely INSANE. It just wasn't fair in the slightest, you made his job difficult. You were gorgeous.. daring.. and you were so testing that it almost became a turn on for him. Chan failed so many times to not let his mind wander to inappropriate thoughts. The thing is with chan, he wasn't stupid. He knew you were trying to push his buttons on purpose and as much as it was annoying, it was also low key amusing and again very very sexy.

As much as you swore to hate every single bodyguard you had, like a step parent and child that never got on. There was something about chan that you warmed up to. The way he would smell and dress for a start. Always smartly dressed in all the top designer suits.. as it states in his exceptional and lengthy reseme and I'm sure that's not the only thing that's lengthy with how impressive he is.. it states that he used to be a model for Fendi. You even admired how he looked in his baggy hoodies for more casual events. Thick luxurious material, always Designer and of course a splash of his lingering godly Versace spray. You know the details of his hoodie right down to the very last stitch from the time he draped that heavenly thing over your shivering frame as you made your exit from the club and into the cold night. The warmth and the smell was heaven sent but not nearly as good as the strong sclupted arms that wrapped around you protectively, guiding you and shielding you and keeping you safe. The pap photos were fire. Not only did you look good in Chan's oversized hoodie but you looked really good with chan himself. Chan had to keep himself from thinking it too when he saw the photos online, his cheeks slightly heated as he read through comments from your fans shipping you together.

'does anyone else think y/n and her bodyguard look so cute together?'

'omg I am sooooo writing a fanfic on this'

'omg I used to ship y/n with... but now I lowkey ship her with her bodyguard'

'Does anyone know the name of y/ns body guard? He's so fit'

'look how close they are! He gave her his hoodie!!! that's not what bodyguards do!'

'hmmm, thats what boyfriends do'

'secretly dating definitely'

'they are so hot'

'definitely fucking'

'they should just get married already... but wait! maybe they are...'

'new power couple of 2025'

Oh the hoodie Definitely did something . Then there were other times when the man would just simply do his job properly, unlike the others. He was firm. Quick with his eyes. Constantly scanning for any threats or danger while guiding you effortlessly through the crowds. Not once were you ever pushed or pulled or touched by anyone. With chan, you were invincible. Was it the way his hand would linger a little bit longer on your lower back or how sometimes his arms would naturally snake around your waist while guiding you through crowds and events. There were many times he would make you melt by taking you by surprise, making stops on the way back to the hotel, be it for ice cream or coffee when you could really do with it most. Strangely it's like he knows, like he could read you all over and that's the only ever time he would bend the rules slightly because unplanned stops in local areas was breaking protocol. But as much as you were developing a soft spot for your bodyguard chan, he was also developing a soft spot for you too.

You made each other feel seen. Gave each other a bit more freedom in your tight-knit situation of fame and money. work hard play ha... Work even harder. You added some playfulness and banter to your more serious everyday working world and it was good to find a little bit of something again... Whatever it was... But real life would keep taking over. Just when you thought you snapped him.

'take off my heels'

'sneak me out to the beach'

'if you're gonna stand outside my bathroom all night you might as well get in here and join me in the bath chan'

He clicks back into super strict professional mode and reality kicks in. Nothing but a lonely star having to be watched like a child at all times because she's constantly 'in danger' though there were so many close situations with paps, stalkers and muggers. Constantly followed by a bodyguard is a bit dramatic but after nearly getting kidnapped not once but twice, threatened and harassed maybe it is not that dramatic after all. So many... Creeps. Chan is extremely strict on those guys and that's why you hadn't felt any more safer. Although annoying like a lingering fly sometimes, he was only doing his job. That man is your guardian angel - In a really scrumptious hoodie.

Your thoughts had got the best of you one evening. It was another bubble bath pamper sesh and you had just convinced chan with your cutest pout and fluttering lashes to run the bath for you and the spoiled princess that you are, he even put the oils in that you liked without even any instruction.

"Bath is ready for you, princess"

A new teasing nickname. It stuck. Now that's all he calls you.

"okay, I'm only ever gonna ask you this one last time.. care to join me?" Your eyes narrowed in on him. The tone. Was you teasing? Mocking? Frustrated, bored? Chan only guessed you were just plainly asking. Not really expecting any specific answer but you slightly hoped he would end the misery of him towering around the door and suddenly drop his pants and get naked just for the laughs. Maybe then you would perk up from this recurring nightmare of a routine.

But nothing. Strict. boring.

A heavily depressed sigh escaped your lips as you padded slowly past the dark tower of a man to enter the marbled bathroom. You needed some excitement in your life, some fun, a flirt! Maybe a... Date?

It pains you to think about it actually. Dating is not fun when you are famous, you actually hate it but if chan wasn't willing to break the rules and spontaneously skinny dip into the bath tub with you then a little date here and there to take your mind off these boring nights wouldn't hurt.

"channie! Get you get me my phone? Oh and bring some wine!"

Your voice echoing in the bathroom made the demand more intimidating. You hated how you sounded sometimes but being a demanding spoiled princess was a facade you couldn't let down now. Chan saw past it though and it never phased him in the slightest and if anything.. He grew rather fond of the whole spoilt princess thing and he was happily at your service.

"What do you say princess?" his deep voice muffled back through the door.

Rolling your eyes pretending to be annoyed wasn't working with your hand over your mouth trying to stifle down a giggle.

You refused to say it, until chan bursted in. No warning this time as he usually would but he respectfully kept his deep brown eyes on yours, never looking down, not a peep. Professional. Yawn.

The bubbles covered you anyway and you held your delicate hand out for the items he wasted no time in fetching. He stood still, eyebrows raised. Waiting for you to say It. You shook your head with a teasing smile.

"don't be stubborn, where are your manners" he warned. He looked so fine when he told you off.

"please"

He shook his head. You were honestly going to be the death of him.

Before he could break eye contact, wanting to admire how beautiful and spoilt you looked in your big luxurious bathtub. Your eyes glistening like the sparkling white wine in your hand, your glossed lips taking careful cherished sips and your body glowing from your shimmering bath oil and how your hair trailed down effortlessly, tips wet at the ends as they moulded into the water like you were a real life mermaid, so stunning, he quickly stepped out to change back into his solid form, standing on guard just outside the bathroom door, his heart pounding.

You rolled your pretty eyes once again as he left, returning your attention back onto the mission - sip and scroll in the suds.

For months now your publicist has been keeping on about setting you up on a date. It's important for image apparently, to boost followings and popularity and all that bullcrap. Stubborn as you were though, you refused. Until now unfortunately. But if you were going to date, the least you could do was actually pick the person, that's something you guess. Your scrolling on Instagram and tik Tok got distracted by funny animal videos and K-pop dance routines until eventually a few videos caught your interest, trending. 'Ohhh he's handsome' you beamed with bright eyes. You face lighting up with the screen. This guy was trending from his recent starring role in this new popular action movie and he was EVERYWHERE. Perfect! Your publicist would approve. Without no hesitation you tap tap tapped straight onto her contact. Uncertainty washed over for you a moment but before you knew it, you were already calling her.

...

As handsome as the trending star was... asshole. Absolute asshole.

You sat quietly judging. You were currently at a meeting in some sort of private coffee bar. Both your publicist chatting and discussing agreements as you and him both sat opposite each other, beside them. Basically before you start going on any dates and officially go public, a contract and agreement must be made with both parties, fun right?

It's like a play date, both you and him are the shy awkward children and your publicists are the yapping mothers. Yapping about all the drama and future weddings but of course in the famous world. You started to feel uneasy. You searched for the comfort of his dark chocolate eyes, even knowing they weren't there and letting your heart ache in disappointment. It was very rare he had time off but out of all the shifts, why did he have to be off for this one. The others who covered him just weren't the same. You focused on 'boring bill' his eyes half shut looking like he was about to fall asleep on the spot, still alert nonetheless but no appearance of enthusiasm or strength or comfort whatsoever. Chan however somehow became your anchor. He made you feel grounded, safe and constantly reassured. He was primal, picking up changes in your body language instantly and noticing shifts in your patterns and emotions like he knew you from the inside out, which is why he was good in situations like this. All you needed was to give him that one look, he knows exactly which one. that one look for him to get you out of any situation. His dark chocolate brown eyes would never leave yours unlike half shut boring bills. Chan's attention of course flickers back and forth but only to continuously scan the perimeter and the people in it for any potential threats and dangers and then his prime focus would be solely on you. In anxiety riddled situations, it's his eyes you would look for, they brought you that reassurance and comfort and if you needed to stare, he would let you bore your eyes into his own, comfort is what he would give you. That's exactly what you needed right now, you winced at the sight of him not being there and you focused back on the handsome asshole in front of you who apparently goes by the name of SAN. You got bored when you dabbled into a bit of conversation at the beginning of the meeting (good start) but you remember him mentioning that he dabbled in some singing in a K-pop group before venturing off to acting in TV shows and films. Either way he was becoming super famous and he's hot and the dates will be fun so who cares right? Though again the pouting princess was slowly questioning her choices.

...

A little black mini dress, a go-to staple when you have an intimate date at a jazz club right? You had never questioned yourself like this before, you thought getting dressed up for a date would be fun, a bit stressful but fun, like they made it look in the movies. Except it wasn't fun like the movies, you didn't have any of your 'girlfriends' around you to help pick out clothes and have girly talks to hype you up about the date itself. It was boring, a thing you were trying to avoid these past few nights. You sighed heavily, the most stressful sigh to ever escape your lips, and there's been a lot! Must have been loud when there was a quiet knock on the door.

"y/n, princess?"

Chan.

If your heart could smile, it was smiling right now. You had missed him so much the last three days since the meeting. Annoying as he was sometimes, something lately made you grateful to have him around.

"I'm okay! just trying to pick my outfit."

"and I'm sad..." You accidentally mumbled.

Eyes wide and hands covering your traitor of a mouth, your heart begins thundering in your chest when he responds "Can I help?"

You looked around at the bomb of clothes that had exploded in your walk-in closet, grabbing an oversized shirt quickly to cover up. A hesitant reply. "Ummm maybe, come in"

A strong smell of something familiar.. Versace? Why was it so strong when chan hadn't even entered the room yet. You hugged over your body at the shirt, your movements becoming more vigorous as you recognized the fabric and looked down discovering you had thrown on Chan's white dress shirt from an event a few months back. A tragic funny story where you were currently about to go out onto the red carpet to be interviewed when someone 'accidently' ran into you with a glass of red wine, spilling it and staining it all down your beautiful white evening dress. Mortified there was no way you were going to step foot in front of cameras to be interviewed. Your publicist being the witch that she is kept insisting saying the 'show must go on' and 'it would be funny' 'a funny story to tell' 'you would be trending! Making headlines!' ooohhh no. No. You would be humiliated. Turned Into a meme. It would embarrass you and haunt you for the rest of your career but you had no choice.. camera crews were ushering you, interviewers howling for you, fans in desperate need of your content. Your publicist practically held you by a lead. All you gave him was that one look, though this time with glistening tears, tears that made his heart ache and so chan thought of a quick immediate plan. All it took was that look. Next thing you know you were being quickly guided behind some paneling for the backdrop.

"What are you doing?' you gasped. Tears still glistening and threatening to spill.

"Don't let those tears fall and ruin your pretty make up, keep your head up. I've got you" he spoke firmly.

As he was speaking, he rushed to rip his smart button up blazer away from his body, revealing his pristine white shirt.

"oversized shirts paired with heels are still in fashion right?" He questioned quickly with a breathy chuckle. Not like you had a choice.

"umm yeah, I could make it work..." You hesitated, looking him up and down questionably. Was he about to strip?.

"princess, you could pull off anything"

And that was the first ever time he called you princess. The air became hot while your heart heaved in your chest but it was the compliment that took you back the most.

"take off your dress"

The heat of the moment, the commands. Really got your heart racing. You saw him in a different light that day.. it was new, exciting, you were impressed with how dedicated he was to his job, to you. But it was a just his job, right?

You nervously tugged at the zipper of your dress, it was harder to concentrate on yourself when your bodyguard was trailing his hands down his chest, undoing one shirt button at a time. You knew he had a good build, his chiseled biceps and defined abs always poked through his tight fitted clothing but to see him undressing, showing his flesh. That was something you let your curiosity get the best of. Your eyes wandered shamelessly while you aimlessly reached for your zipper, losing grip of it now and again from how nervous you were. This whole situation was just too overwhelming.

Finally he was free of his shirt and oh what a sight. His firm chest was with eyesight from how much taller he was then you, his six pack flexing with every movement. His skin so perfectly soft and buff looking. That mixed with his dark hair, dark eyes and plump red lips. He was beautiful.

"concentrate princess, here let me help"

As if you weren't already flustered enough, chan's large hands grip around your waist to pull you closer, so close that you could feel the warmth of his breath cascading over the skin of your neck. You keep your eyes locked on his now and his hands smooth up the small of your back to latch onto the pesky zipper you were desperately fighting with a few seconds ago.

Effortlessly.

Zip.

Your breathing became quick and desperate as the rush of letting the dress fall and changing into chans shirt had started but he was already there, shirt held out for you to slip your arms into and he respectfully assisted you with doing the buttons up quickly getting you covered before covering himself back up with his blazer.

You flashed him a grateful smile before reaching for your dress quickly to rip away a sparkly chain that was attached to your white dress to now wrap it around your waist to give the shirt some style and shape, matching it with your sparkly heels and jewelry as if it was meant to be your outfit this whole time. It's like you just left the LV store.

'wow.. told you could pull off anything" Chan spoke impressed as he scanned the final look. 'hand on my heart, you look amazing"

"couldn't have done it without you!" You sighed in relief.

"thank you channie"

And with that you jumped up quickly to hug him. Was it allowed to hug your bodyguards? You weren't really sure but it was quick, in the moment and it felt good.

Like you moments ago. Chan was also taken back. And not just by the new nickname you suddenly gave him which made his heart melt but by the little trusting hug you gave him. Little did you know it meant the world to him. It was quick but nice, warm and comforting with your sweet smelling perfume that he had grown to love, lingering a bit longer than usual. It was heaven.

That little moment behind the backdrop that evening was nothing but it was something.

We now conclude the story of how you ended up with chans shirt. Which you... kept? So how are you going to explain this to him when he walks in and sees you wearing it?

You panic and jump up to mindlessly start flicking through clothes as you hear him enter the room. You dare to look at him but you don't have to know he's already questioning not only the pile of clothes surrounding you on the floor but the item of clothing you are currently wearing. He recognizes it instantly. You can't see the knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips but it's there and he warms up to the memory that evening. He breaks the silence, taking you out of your awkward misery, he can feel your tension but he converts it instantly. Hes so good at that.

"can still pull it off, I forgot how good you look in my shirt"

You melt into comfort and spin around to finally meet his gaze. A wave of relief washing over you.

"you don't think it's weird that I still have it? Or even wearing it? Which just so you are aware I never actually wear this! It's just been stuffed away since that evening and'

Chan steps closer, he doesn't need to tell you to stop blurting out pointless explanations, you shut up instantly. You take in his eyes, questioning what he's thinking, he was very hard to read.

"I think you should wear it tonight for your date but wouldn't that be like marking my territory?"

"excuse me chan?" You gasped. You couldn't tell if he was trying to make a half hearted joke or if he was being deadly serious. "Isn't that a bit unprofessional for you to say? You may be my bodyguard but you don't own me, what are you trying to say?' a more teasing tone failed you and you were quick to become questionable and defensive.

For the first time ever, a sheer look of panic was evident in his face.

"Forgive me princess, I mean.. y/n, that came out wrong"

You didn't overthink it, you were quick to drop it and you nodded, shrugging it off.

"someone a bit sour that they have to work tonight? I hear that bodyguards hate being on date night duty" you teased, continuing to search for the perfect black little mini dress.

"not really, where did you get that information from?"

"boring bill"

Chan fell through and busted out with laughter. It's the nickname that was more funny, you really were a nightmare in this line of work. He did back you up on that one though, bill was very boring and lazy on the job.

"to a certain extent, he's not wrong, some dislike it because it means more work. There's more risks, more intensity from paps. Then it's also profiling the actual person who you are dating and being hyper aware of intentions and outcomes and so on"

Funny, you were bored and interested in his explanation at the same time, your eyebrows rising in curiosity and surprise.. it was the way he talked about protocols and all the important stuff that got you hooked. He was knowledgeable, so professional and good at what he does, it just made him all the more attractive.

"so does this mean you will be 'profiling' my date tonight? What are you? some sort of FBI agent?" You giggled teasingly. You naturally reached for his dark locks to ruffle through them playfully. An action he didn't react to. He stayed firm. Laughing with you and then serious the next. It's like he would slip from his role only to realize and flip firmly back, back to bodyguard mode. It sucked.

"not that intensely no but one bad vibe from him and it's over" he pressed, shifting his stance so that his posture was fixed straight.

"well I better cleanse him before we enter the jazz bar, this man is a total stuck up asshole"

After those words you send chan a wink, grabbing the first dress you tried on (it's always the first dress) and fluttering your way around the clothes to change into the bathroom, leaving him dumbfounded.

If you really meant what you said then chan was in for a really tough night. Not only does it pains him for you to be forced into dating but to be dating a stuck up asshole, this isn't right. It's not what you really want, so why were you doing this. The thought of you dating in general just kills him, for reasons he's unsure of but to be forcing yourself to fake date, this was something else.

So far.. so goo... not so good...

Your mini black dress alone was enough for chan to willingly fight off a thousand men with his bare hands. You looked incredibly sexy, there was no doubt that men were going to approach you and no doubt that chan was going to keep you safe as always... But tonight he felt different and if it came to it, he would really hurt someone if he had to.

He hated how he was feeling right now, as gorgeous and as sexy as you looked, a pang of jealousy twitched in his chest. He always loved how you looked, how you dressed for yourself always, so confident and beautiful and able to get anyone you wanted. Knowing the picky princess that you are, he knows you wouldn't settle for anything less, so why fake date an asshole? Why waste all this beauty on him. Chan was not happy in the slightest.

He bit his tongue all the way to the jazz club and when you got there, his usual professional routine took place but in a more intense way than usual. Firmly he held the car door open for you after scanning the surroundings in great detail and planning a safe entry into the building. His dark eyes are quick and focused but more darker than usual. He naturally holds his large pale hand out for you, he always assists you getting out of the car, carefully and securely always. As he holds out his hand the figure he recently just warned to stay back jumps in and a hand flicks out in replacement of his suddenly. Your date.

Still in the car and just stepping out, you take the hand and a wave of worry washes over you when you don't feel the warm comforting hand that is chans. Chan's hand is a lot larger than yours and they fit together as snug as a glove, warm and caressing. Not too hard of a grip but enough to ground you, support you, make you feel safe. You know every little detail, this was not his hand. It was cold, fingers icy and slim and there were no little squeezes which confirmed it was not chans. Channie always gave you three little squeezes, a little code you both had to reassure you that everything is okay. Your brows knitted together in concern but you weren't scared, there was no way chan would let a stranger get this close to you. It must have been...

"San!" You squeaked surprised as you fully stepped out. A face reveal that was most appealing with his sharp airbrushed features. He was breathtaking, though as handsome as he was your eyes darted to chan for reassurance, his sparkling dark eyes, so intense but still comforting made you melt back into ease. He gave you a nod of approval, a go ahead to walk with San and into the restaurant, You had been close to your assigned bodyguard for so long now it's like you both magically developed telepathic skills. That's not the only confirmation you wanted though, your eyes immediately darted from San to to chan because chan is the only person you want to see. He is the most beautiful and handsome man to ever exist in your world and it dreads you to think no San or any date for that matter will ever compare to him.

It wasn't just the looks, it was how he made you feel but he was your bodyguard and he was just doing his job, you had to pinch yourself so many times to stop being so delulu over it.

You take a deep breath, beginning to strut towards the jazz bar. You were nervous. But for all the wrong reasons. Already paps were flooding your path, adding to the sickness in the pit of your stomach. Forcing a date was a terrible idea, you wouldn't be able to handle the reality of a real one so why put yourself through a fake one. It was getting all a bit too much, too fast, already. Your steps are becoming slightly unsteady. San already failed the vibe check. Ignoring your current state and tugging you along like a little rag doll while chan did everything he could to ease the paps of on your side.

"slow it down" he warned under his breath. Loud enough for San to hear but not enough for the paps to start catching a headline. That's all you needed 'bodyguards snaps at movie star San, in pap brawl'

San actually slowed surprisingly, giving it all the fake 'baby, Are you okay? Take your time, I've got you'

Baby? Ew. Honey this is only the first date. What did chan just say? Slow down? Ummm yeah.

Anything to make his image look good and then there it was.. a big 'slap in the face' a big reminder that this was all that it was for, for show.

All it took was for you to give him that look. And you know who I'm talking about and you know what look. But you stood your ground. You came here for fun and fun was what you were going to have. So stubborn. you were not going to let this fake dating back fire on you.

You perked up, took a breath and straightened your dress smiling and posing for the paps.

"I'm all good, let's go in!" You smiled at san, grabbing his ridiculous cold hand. Not a red flag this time but an ick.

Chan studied you carefully, his eyes flickering with concern. Again he noticed every little detail in you, every little tone and shift. He was not buying this sudden enthusiasm but he held his stance, kept focused, he still needed to make sure all the other surroundings were safe.

The atmosphere was warm, seductive, romantic. You got seated in a luxury padded booth. Materials all velvet and rustic, soft glows from candlesticks presented neatly on the table, warm lighting cascades around the room from vintage lamps and thrifty lampshades. Soft jazz playing in the background took the edge of, the pretty piano dominant in the sounds. The smell of Michelin star foods wafted in the air and of course how could you miss the notes of sparkling champagne, expensive of course. The place was very private, only a few couples seated here and there, in the small, dimly lit bar. It was an intimate vibe. You wish you could have more nights like this more often... But with people you actually know and love...like your truly missed best friends who were also famous and busy or... You searched the room eyes landing on channie.

You blinked out of thought quickly, your eyes focusing back onto the movies star in front of you who was urging you hurry and pick a cocktail.

"what's the rush' you lightly giggled but your laughter fades when you quickly notice how impatient he is.

From a distance, chan watches you both closely, eyes squinted harshly and he shifts uncomfortably when he reads the body language. He's watched you so many times on an evening out to know you're such a cocktail girlie and your favourite is and always will be strawberry daqari. Only frozen though. God forbid anyone gives you one that isn't frozen. You are also very adventurous so if anyone was to offer you one, he knows you would say...

"surprise me"

San snaps up from the menu, a surprised expression on his face.

"what?"

You send him a cheeky smirk, eyes glistening "I can't decide so surprise me.

He shakes his head in defeat amused none the less. "I'm not going to do that princess. I hardly know what you like... But I'm sure that will all change very soon" he flirted, leaning over the table.

Bad timing to start sipping water. You almost choked. You start to cough in surprise at the cocky reply but not the nickname in particular.

Chan was not impressed. His knuckles whitening without even realizing. He was tense. Also the nickname? How dare he, chan couldn't help but slightly feel slightly aggressive towards this man, that was chan's nickname for you and only he gets to call you it.

"seriously though, I wouldn't know where to start, I don't want to risk getting something too sour or too sweet, something you aren't going to like.

"well I like something..."

"fruity"

You look up at chan who cut you off unexpectedly.

"you like something fruity" chan confirmed.

He stood confident, fisted hands now linked together presentably in front of him. He looked smart, strong, and professional. As always. You couldn't help but stare a little while longer, forgetting about the date in front of you. Warmth filling your chest, that same fluttering heartbeat when he helped you during the red wine on white dress situation.

"he's right" you smile knowingly. Your heart is still melting. Does he really notice these things?

"strawberry daqari, to be precise" he winks.

Yes he really does. You blush uncontrollably. Luckily your make up is a little more on the heavier side tonight. You can feel him concentrating on you, questioning every reaction though you were all over the place tonight, it was so hard to read you it almost scared him.

As the night drew on, things started getting more intense, you became slightly intoxicated with each passing minute. San got closer and things got a little more touchy and flirty. It was protocol for chan to keep distance. Keep a close eye but not to interrupt. If there was no sign of harassment, out of line inappropriate behavior or suspicious activity then The bodyguard has no right to interfere and needs to give more space. Unfortunately for chan you seemed to be enjoying the night, getting cozy with your date and the same on Sans end, despite being a douche. The alcohol was definitely playing a part in this, there's gotta be a loop hole to this surely because this was killing chan and following protocol of respecting space on a date night was getting seemingly harder to do. He was sweating now, tense. Every touch on your bare leg, every whisper in your ear. Chan was ready to rip the guy away from you but why? If he wasn't being a threat then why? The way your eyes lit up, the way you laughed, the way you bit your bottom lip as you focused on this guys annoying talkative lips that chan so desperately wanted to punch. It was killing him. What was it that made him feel like this.

First it was just a first date. Then there was a second. Then a third. Chan prayed there wouldn't be a fourth.

It was now becoming a regular. As much as chan hated red carpet events, that is what he would rather be doing with you right now. Anything but these painful dates. He was starting to get tired, not of you but the job, it was wearing thin on him and he needed a break, to take some time off but he refused. He even gave up his designated days off during shift patterns because he couldn't stand the thought of not being on watch during a date and something went wrong. He needed to be there for you. To protect you. To make sure you were okay. He wouldn't forgive himself if something were to happen, plus he just wanted to be close to you.

Unluckily for chan there was a fourth date but the fourth date was a disaster. No alcohol involved this time and you felt off . Bored, tired, not feeling it at ALL. San started becoming a bit too needy, a bit too touchy a bit too possessive and controlling too quickly and it drained you. You were miserable. Just wanting time with your friends, to have fun, be happy and yes, maybe in love! True love. Today was the only day you were close to that...

"where are we stopping? Wait are we even supposed to stop? Channie are you secretly kidnapping me? Has this been your plan all this time? I mean I know you were smart and cunning but this..." You trailed off.

Your head pressed against the tinted window of the car, you began steaming it up with your breath. It would be a waste of time winding the window down because channie would be right on your case about sticking your head out the window and the dangers of it but you were like an excited child.

Your view was of a large building, painted with bright pinks and blues as if a unicorn vomited all over it. You've made many ice cream stops in the past (breaking protocol of course) but this.. This ice cream shop was on another level..Like charlie and the chocolate factory level. You recognized it instantly. It was trending all over Tik Tok and you had been gushing about it ever since you saw it. You even recommended it as a date to San but anything to damper you down, said no. Chan wasn't going to have any of it, he wanted to make you, the princess happy. He knew how much you loved ice cream and wanted to go to this place, so he was going to do anything he could to make it happen and now here you both were.

"no way! Channie! Are you serious!" You jumped but your face suddenly dropped...

"I have an interview booked in hour..."

"I got you covered, it's fine princess"

The assisting comforting obligated hand hold as you dipped out of the car sent a wave over your body, it felt better than ever before. Your hands glued together a little bit tighter this time and strangely you naturally didn't let go, it's like neither of you wanted to. Chan had to at some point surely? But he didn't and something suddenly sparked between the two of you. You both paused, not really sure as to what was going on right now, stuck in your own bubble. Chans deep gaze captivated your own for a moment, both searching trying to find your telepathic skills until you result in mirroring reassuring smiles. Then...

Squeezes of the hand.

Both of you were in a moment of bliss right now, jolts of electricity running through you. Whatever was happening right now felt so out of professionalism a bit daring if you will, crossing some sort of rules and boundaries but neither of you cared in that moment. It just felt right.

Okay so Hand in hand with your bodyguard in the most tik tok famous ice cream shop was not on your cards today but you weren't complaining. It was sweeter than the strawberry sauce you watched the cashier pour all over your ice cream. You had never seen a side of chan like this before and it was refreshing. You both felt free for a moment, normal like any casual couple in this ice cream parlour. You blended right in, so careless and free with smile covered faces. You were shocked at this bold move of chans. This was breaking rules, this was out of duty standards, this was Beyond duty in fact. You wanted to ask so many questions but you didn't want to ruin this moment the moment of him now wiping strawberry sauce from your chin with his thumb and sipping up the sweetness. He looked less like a bodyguard and more like boyfriend material right now. You were melting like the ice cream.

You didn't want to seem phased and as much as you were lost in your own dreamy delulu world with your bodyguard chan right now, you couldn't help but notice some young fans in the corner of our eyes snapping pictures.

"I know, it's okay... I'm just taking you to the ice cream shop which you demanded to take you too right?"

You smile warmly but fear creeps in.

"Chan... My publicist would kill me, I'm supposed to be dating San and you are breaking the rules... I know you are my bodyguard but you've seen the comments online, there's already rumors that we are secretly married and all that crazy shit. my fans ship us too much. I don't want us getting in trouble" tears prick your eyes and unexpectedly chan pulls you into him before saying something that hits you like a ton of bricks.

"not being able to get ice cream and forced fake dates with ex K-pop members... You are not a prisoner y/n"

Tears fall now. Let's hope the pictures that get posted hints you were emotional because maybe your time of the month and you just needed ice cream. Makes sense.

But no.

After your emotional roller coaster of breaking rules, eating the most amazing ice cream and realizing you have a thing for your body guard. You finally get back from the interview (which shockingly were all questions about you and San) and see said posts.

To your surprise no crying photos! They must have been nice fans. Your eyes well up once again. The photos were of you, happy , smiling. Chan towering behind you protectively as always but more relaxed than normal. He looked cute, like he was in boyfriend mode. One made you laugh where he's leaning his chin on top of your head browsing the menus and another of him wiping away the strawberry sauce, your eyes fixated on his sweet red lips.

Comments pulled at your hearts strings. You really did have the best fans.

'look how happy they both look'

'i shipped them from the start. I called it'

'wait is this a date?'

'a real date for sure, her and San are definitely secret enemies and are just doing a publicity stunt'

'from bodyguard duty to boyfriend duty'

'guys I was actually there at the ice cream shop and let me tell you when I say they have a thing'

'omg omg omg! I was there too and 'y/n' got upset about something and he was so supportive! Like he couldn't hold her tight enough, this man loves her'

'this is giving me forbidden love vibes... Someone write a fan fic!'

'i saw them holding hands outside and there was so much chemistry, girl please explain'

You couldn't get over some of the comments. You questioned your feelings for chan before and you sensed something towards you too but you thought you were just being delusional and that chan was just being extra caring and protecting because of his job but maybe you was right about something all along and was it really that obvious?

He had seen the posts too. Realization hitting chan like a tone of bricks. Those intense feelings, it all made sense now. How could he not notice? All the banter, all of the admiring of your outfits, being turned on by your witty remarks as flirtatious proposals, the late nights of letting you stay out at clubs and keeping your mischievous ass safe. The eye contact and secret code hand squeezes, how could he not notice he was falling for you. but he had to stay professional, he would lose his job, he would lose access to you, he had to somehow stay in control of this. You now just made his job even more difficult, without even trying this time.

5th date.

This didn't get any easier for chan. Especially now there was knowing tension but things were a lot worse... You and chan weren't the only ones who saw the posts. Getting ready for his fifth date tonight, San made it his mission to make the night as miserable as possible for your beloved bodyguard. Thinking it wouldn't be so bad seeming you were out with friends on a group date this time, chan was unaware of Sans brutal plan to be all over you, reminding him of their positions. Though little did San know you weren't really feeling it anymore and things could go sideways very quickly. You only had to give one look.

Chan couldn't stand the sight. Usually with your groups of friends, you were GLOWING. Your gorgeous smile beaming, energy vibrant and contagious, lighting up the room. You still looked gorgeous regardless, your hair and make up always on point, the perfect outfit hugging your curves like a goddess, but the glowing goddess herself just wasn't present. It was him. Draining you. Chan couldn't take it. His sight narrowed on the douche bag darkly, watching closely for any wrong moves. Any wrong moves and he'd be a gonner.

You refused to let any discomfort show, although it was a struggle. You couldn't let chan see the misery in you, the defeat of fake dating, you wanted to proof that you weren't a prisoner, plus you didn't want to get him into trouble. You wanted him to continue being your bodyguard, it was better then nothing. You just accepted you would never be truly happy.

At this point chan had already given in. He couldn't bare watching you like this, if he had to break protocol he would. He hated how stubborn you were, fighting through all of Sans inappropriate comments, touches and nasty shut downs when trying to vibe and chat with your friends.

His fists clenched, jaw tightening. Every sneaky snare from San made his blood boil. He knew exactly what he was doing. All of a sudden a warm touch caught him off guard, stopping him from flipping at the last second.

"hey"

The small soft sound was y/f/n voice. Her touch was almost comforting but his mind wouldn't rest though his fists stopped clenching and he softness his stance.

"everything okay?" He questions deeply, his eyes never leaving you at the rounded booth table.

"I was going to ask you the same thing? I know you are on duty right now but you are also human and I can see you are not okay" she innocently explained, her eyes burning into his side profile.

"of course" he lied, staying firm and professional.

The girl rolled her eyes, typical men hiding their true feelings. "Chan... I've seen the posts, not just the recent ones either and I've seen you both when you've been on duty too, all of the nights out we've rebelliously had, the way you watch her, more than just her bodyguard. Lending her your hoodies, holding her hand.. I wish my bodyguard was more like you... But he's just not in love with me I guess..." She snickered knowingly nudging him lightly.

His dark eyes almost peel from you for a split second . Was it really that obvious.

"Even now, look at you... Ready to pounce to the rescue at any given moment. you have feelings for her chan which you can't ignore.. so Don't fight it. Look at her, she's miserable. Go save your princess"

He shook his head, catching your eye now, your face repulsed by whatever San was drunkenly whispering.

What were him and your friend talking about? You focus in on them in the distance.

"I can't save her" he sighed, finally opening up a little "She will hate me if I ruin this for her, ruin whatever this is for us, if I risk losing this job, I risk losing her"

"oh wow" she giggled "both so stubborn". Finishing with a hiccup, She looks on at you. Her gorgeous friend, fading. "Look" she pushed. "You both deserve to be happy, save my friend please..."

"trust me I would but she needs to do it on her own terms, that way I'm still respecting her and her choices. I won't lose my job and I won't lose her'

"your call but you know how stubborn she is chan and anyway you might even snap before then anyways" she sighs. She taps his shoulder quickly before making her way back to the table, your eyes blink knowingly and it's back to the reality of pretending. You fake laugh and chan's not sure how much he can take now, especially when San pulls the big guns and pulls you into his lap.

You stay strong, pretending to enjoy the sudden action. Your friends all wiggle their eyebrows and make flirty jokes. All expect your close friend y/f/n who was stood by chan moments ago giving him a pep talk. She was not impressed either, mimicking Chan's vicious protective gaze. You shift slightly uncomfortable, a feeling unfamiliar under you but it was obvious what it was. Your eyes landed on chan but you never gave him the look. Chan's heart was racing now, never has he been this on edge on duty before and that's saying something, he's been through it all. He was completely on stand-by ready to intervene at any slight change in your facial expressions or body language. All you had to do was give him that damn look. But you didn't. The night continued on and it killed him. It killed both of you.

Lingering eye contact, knowing glances, you both struggled and the more San touched you, the more miserable you became, the more you wanted chan.

Chan was desperate to get you alone now. He could sense the needing in you. He knew you too well. He was fighting a battle inside his mind. Just let him save you... He is your bodyguard after all... Finally you got up, San clinging to you.

"where are you going princess"

You snapped a glare, your patients and strength wearing thin.

"don't call me that" you sighed.. " i'm just going to the ladies restroom"

Chan watched like a hawk, listening to every word and tone carefully and analyzing the whole situation. His stance is firm and protective. San left his hand there a little longer, it didn't look like he was going to remove it anytime soon causing chan to step closer.

"stay princess" he childishly pleaded but it was more of a small demand.

"she said don't call her that" chan calmly but firmly spoke. his voice was low and deep and intimidating. His eyes flickered to yourdreassuringly, a confirmation of safety that warmed you inside. You gave him a slight nod in approval. "Please could you remove your hand for the lady to go to the restroom" very impressive work from chan, it was demanding yet calm, his voice still deep.

You blush lightly, San without hesitation as daring as he was, respected the command instantly, snaking his hand away from your arm. Free from his grip was somewhat satisfying and freeing and you were so grateful it was a straight forward thing and not an uproar of drama like a team Edward or team Jacob thing.

You got up and he followed. Chan of course. He was hot on your heels, guiding you through the restaurant with his comforting hand on the small of your back. It felt sooooo good. Your body shaking off the cold hideous feeling of Sans icy touch and warming up to chan's warm familiar one.

"are you going to give in yet" he breathed "I can't watch you any longer" he whispers under his breath. You finally reach a private area that leads to the fancy bathrooms.

"but it's your job to watch me" you protested, turning to face him and crossing your arms.

Chan is tense, his comforting eyes now clouded with something you didn't recognize. You questioned him with concern but anger filled you. Like you needed a release of something.

"because that's all it is toyou right? Your job. You are just doing your job" you shook, your lips trembling eyes filling with worry at what his reaction may be to you suddenly lashing out. Your hands are shaking, your thoughts all mashed up and confused.

Instead of fighting back, chan steps forward, taking your shaking hands gently in his own. He tries to calm your racing confused heart but his is just as bad, anxiety knocking his confidence but still, he fights through and pulls you into his warm pounding chest, comforting you and keeping you safe in your own little bubble once again. "Is this part of my job? No, I choose to pull you close. I choose to risk my job to be closer to you. it's not part of my job to be in love with you" he confesses. Your eyes prickle with warm tears and you begin to feel him sway you slightly, an attempt to ease the anxiety radiating from you both then he continues after taking in a deep breath. "If anything it's not aloud but here I am, beyond duty, begging you right now, please.. y/n.. give in.. this is killing me.. It's not your job to fake date but you choose to but you don't have to... I can see you aren't happy, I can make you happy" he pleads and your heart swells.

You pull away, eyes searching his own and finally they return to his usual warm shade, glistening with hope and admiration. He smooths a strand of your soft hair away from your face that was currently sticking to your teary wet cheek. You smiled warmly, bravely cupping his cheek with the soft palm of your hand. The sudden action grounded chan instantly, calming his beating heart, he melted into the touch and searched your eyes deeper. He hesitated for a moment but took another deep breath. "I didn't want to do this here... I was hoping I could just punch that douche bag in there, take you home and confess my love to you over naked breakfast in the morning but I don't have much of a choice now..."

Your heart races, this didn't feel real to you right now, in the arms of your bodyguard, both relaying your true feelings.. what was he going to say next?

He held you tighter. His strong body wraps around you like a safety blanket and you couldn't get enough of his scent, you wanted to strip him right here right now. Damn your impulsiveness.

"what is it chan?" You breathed, lips dying to crash onto his now. He looks you dead in the eyes and locks in with you.. "Princess, not as your bodyguard but as a forbidden lover... Risk it all with me..."

There he goes again. Taking your breath away, getting your heart to flutter uncontrollably and lose all your senses, surprising you over and over. When will this ever stop? You never want it to. You only grip onto him tighter.

"channie I..." You were speechless.

"don't ruin me princess, say yes, be mine, I will always take care of y..."

Your lips finally crash onto his own. You shut him up completely with a well overdue kiss, your lips moulded perfectly together. Kisses were wet, soft, delicate but hungry, your chests heave in sync, both gasping in-between for air but you both lived and breathed for each other in this moment and like any other moment you've had and any other moments that lie ahead for you both. He shuffles forward towering over you as you pull him into you while he presses you against a wall, both more hungry now. The sweet sucking and gasps are filling the quiet space around you, just you and your little bubble of heaven. No one else around you matters now and never will when you finally plan to make your escape plan together...The princess and her bodyguard, happily ever after...

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