#bodyguard

[soiwatchyougo]

Bodyguard (1)

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen

Summary-

AU- Mapi Leon bodyguard, Ingrid Engen princess.

“But I don’t need another one!” Ingrid said with a whine.

“Ingrid,” her mother said sternly, “this is non-negotiable- don't let me regret letting you go on holiday.”

Ingrid huffed. She was going on a trip to Spain next week, and for some reason, her parents thought she needed an extra bodyguard.

That was the last thing she wanted.

All Ingrid wanted to do was get drunk with her friends and party like any normal person in their mid-twenties. Instead, she would now have two glaringly obvious bodyguards following her every move. Steven had been her bodyguard for the last five years, and in that time, Ingrid had learned his little routines, and more importantly, how to evade him. Ingrid had already planned her holiday around his patterns, and a completely new person added a spanner into the works.

Ingrid understood that her parents had safety concerns, but she couldn’t remember the last time she took a holiday. Every waking minute was taken up by royal duties, and even though she was only 25, she felt like she had already lived a lifetime. Her parents had finally realised the pressure that she was under after Ingrid practically begged them for a weekend off, and they had grudgingly agreed to let her go to Mallorca with a few close friends.

Still, the trip didn’t seem to be turning into the relaxing break that Ingrid had imagined. She had envisaged herself sipping cocktails on the beach, and maybe finding someone to take back to her room after a night out, a stranger who had no idea of her princess status. It was meant to be an opportunity to be an anonymous tourist, but two people in black suits watching her like hawks didn’t exactly fit that narrative.

“Who is she?” Ingrid huffed, having concluded that there was no way out of it. If she misbehaved, her parents would cancel the trip, and not only would she miss out, but her friends would too.

“Her name is Mapi Leon,” said Gudrun, checking the clipboard in her hand, “she is Spanish, so she will be extremely helpful with the language, and she has years of experience guarding the Barcelona men's football players.”

Ingrid turned her nose up, although the woman didn’t sound too bad. She was already thinking of all the excuses she could fabricate to get this woman to leave her alone, and if that didn’t work, Ingrid knew it didn’t take much for her to have people wrapped around her little finger. Her sweet demeanour and startling looks seemed to lull people into a false sense of security, and Ingrid was yet to meet someone whose mind she couldn’t change with a bat of her long eyelashes and a wide smile.

“When do I get to meet her?”

“She’ll meet you in Mallorca, at the airport. Steven should be able to handle the flight, and she’s arranging the transport to your villa.”

Sighing, Ingrid took the clipboard from her mother and read through the details. She hummed in approval as she read Mapi’s resume, her long list of achievements flowing onto a second page. It seemed she had a background as a footballer but quit when she was younger and re-directed her fitness elsewhere. Her photo was blurry, and no matter how much Ingrid squinted, she couldn’t make out anything more than a messy bun piled on top of her head.

“I suppose she’ll do,” Ingrid said in a resigned voice, handing the clipboard back to her mother, “what’s next on our agenda?”

“The State Ball tomorrow night.”

Ingrid groaned and buried her face in her hands; this holiday could not come any quicker.

Thankfully the rest of the week flew, and Ingrid was soon lugging her case down the stairs and into the awaiting car. She had packed an assortment of different bikinis and dresses that her parents would probably faint if they saw, but if everything went to plan, they would stay completely in the dark. She rarely had a chance to express her true style, and although she appreciated having a personal stylist, it didn’t leave much room for fun outfits.

Her friends were already waiting in the car, their bags safely stored in the boot. She was going with Caro, a friend from school, and Frido, the daughter of a Swedish diplomat. Ingrid didn’t have many close friends, one of the lesser-known downfalls of being famous, but she was looking forward to treating the girls who had been there for her through thick and thin.

That started with the royal jet, which sent them gasping and staring in disbelief at the luxurious interior. Ingrid just smirked and sat in her usual seat by the window, the flight attendant already preparing her a drink. Her friends gingerly sat down, stumbling over their drink orders and looking to Ingrid for reassurance. The princess just chuckled, reminding them that while they were on this trip, they were royalty too. Caro looked extremely uncomfortable at that statement, retrieving her own bottle of lukewarm water from her bag.

Finally, they took off and Ingrid breathed a sigh of relief as she watched Norway disappear underneath her. She normally loved the rugged landscape, but her mind was already dreaming of sandy beaches and rushing waves. Her skin had been severely deprived of sun over the winter, and no amount of fake tan could compare to the feeling of sunbathing after swimming in the sea.

The rest of the flight went smoothly, and they landed in Mallorca to clear blue skies. Unlike on a commercial jet, they didn’t have to wait for stairs to be lugged over to let them out or wait in endless queues at security. Instead, the manager of the airport personally greeted them and escorted them to the exit, a charade that wasn’t unusual for Ingrid; she was royalty after all.

Her friends followed behind, their nervous demeanours a stark contrast to Ingrid’s confident stride. Caro fiddled with the straps on her backpack, and Frido unsurely watched Steven wheel their suitcases, her hands hanging uselessly at her side.

Eventually, they left the cool air-conditioned airport and Ingrid searched the immediate drop-off area for a black SUV, her usual method of transport. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she scanned the area, the only car visible an open-topped sports car. A woman was leaning against the door, and as soon as she saw Ingrid exit the airport, she stood up straight and beckoned them over. Ingrid turned to look a Steven in confusion, but her bodyguard was already walking towards the car, shaking the hand of the woman and squeezing their suitcases into the barely big enough boot.

As Ingrid started to walk to the car, it became clear that this was not just any woman.

No, this was the hottest woman Ingrid had ever seen.

Even from several metres away, Ingrid could make out her toned arms pulling open the car door, her back muscles also rippling with the effort. Her hair was pulled into a low bun which only succeeded in highlighting her sharp jawline, and Ingrid felt her knees falter as she noticed the tattoos littering her skin.

Littering her skin would be an understatement; she was practically covered in them. Both of her bare arms were illustrated with intricate designs, and Ingrid fought the sudden urge to reach out and trace them.

As much as she tried to deny it, Ingrid had always had a weakness for girls with tattoos.

There was something about the ink on their skin that immediately made them ten times hotter to Ingrid, and although she pretended that she didn’t have a type, her history didn’t lie. She had never dated a woman without tattoos, and she felt Frido smirking next to her as they reached the car, her friend well aware of how similar Mapi looked to Ingrid’s ex.

Mapi was wearing a black tank top and a pair of jeans, not the usual attire for a bodyguard. However, Ingrid wasn’t complaining, not when that meant she could secretly admire the Spaniard’s body under the guise of checking her outfit.

She stopped in front of Mapi, giving the Spaniard her winning smile. Mapi looked up and Ingrid felt her smile dropping slightly, her eyes widening. Mapi’s face was littered with freckles, and Ingrid swore that she had never seen eyes more beautiful. They were a warm honey-brown, and although Ingrid knew it was impossible, they seemed to be sparkling.

Ingrid quickly regained her composure, “You must be Maria Leon,” she said in a monotone voice, feigning disinterest. She was famous for her professionalism, and that wasn’t going to change now, no matter how attractive this woman was.

Mapi nodded, “Nice to meet you- most people call me Mapi but I’m not bothered.”

“Good.” Ingrid said curtly, eying up the car with a look of distaste on her face, “I hope this thing has a roof.”

Mapi winced and shook her head.

“Great,” Ingrid muttered under her breath, huffily climbing into the car and securing her seatbelt. The three friends squeezed into the back and Mapi started the car, one hand resting on the steering wheel. She looked completely in control and Ingrid couldn’t help but admire how her hand tensed every time they turned, the strong muscles making Ingrid shift uncomfortably in her seat.

It was too loud to converse, so Ingrid alternated between watching the landscape whiz by and Mapi driving. The wind blew through her hair, and although Ingrid knew it would be a pain to comb later, it made her feel more relaxed. Caro didn’t seem to share the same sentiment, gripping tightly to the side of the door as if she were going to blow away.

They finally arrived at the villa and Ingrid waited for Mapi to open her door, barely muttering a thank you before she was sauntering towards the villa. She had to admit it was quite an impressive house, a mixture of traditional architecture and modern appliances. Ingrid immediately headed towards her room- the primary suite- and freshened up, changing out of her conservative outfit into a red bikini and a thin cover-up. They were planning on spending the rest of the day by the pool at the villa, and then venturing into the nearest town for the beach and the clubs the next day.

By the time Ingrid got downstairs, Caro and Frido were already lounging by the pool, sipping cocktails. Ingrid gratefully joined them, sighing in bliss as she relaxed on the sun lounger and let the sun warm her skin. She closed her eyes, her mind slowly drifting away and forgetting the endless responsibilities that she normally had in her daily life. She was just about to doze off when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Argh,” she said in shock, her body jolting and eyes popping open. It wasn’t a particularly hard tap, but in her relaxed state, it certainly wasn’t welcome.

“Sorry,” said a sheepish Mapi, “I just wanted to make sure everything was okay for you.”

“Yes, it is,” Ingrid snapped. She took a deep breath, realising this probably wasn’t the way to get to know her new bodyguard, “sorry, I was just about to fall asleep. Everything is more than adequate, thank you.”

“Perfect,” Mapi said with a smile.

Ingrid felt her heart fluttering. When Mapi smiled her eyes creased and lit up, and Ingrid couldn’t recall a better sight. She had the kind of smile that could light up a room, a far cry from Ingrid’s usual plastic one.

“I was wondering if you’d be okay with me swimming in the pool?” Mapi asked nervously, “We’ve done a perimeter search, and there are no immediate security risks. I completely understand if not, but...”

“No that’s fine,” Ingrid said sweetly, “maybe I'll join you in a bit to cool down.”

Mapi chuckled and scampered off to her room to get changed. Ingrid lay back down on the sun lounger and put on her sunglasses, taking a sip of her fruity cocktail.

A sip she took at completely the wrong time.

Just as the liquid entered her mouth, Mapi suddenly appeared from around the corner, dressed in nothing but a dark green bikini. The fabric barely covered her, and Ingrid had never been gladder to be wearing sunglasses that would conceal her wandering eyes. There was so much perfectly toned skin on display that Ingrid didn’t know where to look, and her sharp inhale only succeeded in making her choke on her cocktail. Ingrid tried to gesture that she was fine, but it was too late; Mapi was already running towards her.

Now the Spaniard was closer, Ingrid could make out the individual ridges of her six-pack and the detailed lines of her tattoos. She immediately looked away, her face a deep shade of red.

“Are you okay princesa ?”

Ingrid nearly choked on her drink again at Mapi’s Spanish drawl, her title never sounding sexier. She was a complete mess, Mapi’s nearly naked appearance and accented voice doing nothing to quell the fire that was slowly igniting in her belly.

“I’m fine,” she eventually managed to splutter.

Mapi nodded and walked towards the pool, which did absolutely nothing to help Ingrid. It turned out her bikini was just as skimpy from the back, and Ingrid was glad Mapi was facing away from her, or she would’ve seen her jaw drop open.

Ingrid had seen plenty of women in bikinis, yet none of them had affected her as much as Mapi did. Given her profession, Ingrid knew that she would be physically fit, but Mapi had muscles in places Ingrid didn’t even know existed.

The Spaniard slowly lowered herself into the pool and started swimming lengths. Her strong arms easily cut through the water and Ingrid watched in appreciation as she effortlessly completed length after length, barely making a splash.

Ingrid decided to stop her staring and join Mapi, her skin now flushed from things other than the sun. She carefully walked to the edge of the pool and sat down, dipping her toes into the cool water. Slowly, she lowered the rest of her shins into the water but remained sitting on the side.

Mapi noticed her presence and stopped her lengths, gently paddling over to the Norwegian. She rested her arms on the side of the pool and looked up at Ingrid with a smile.

“You’re a good swimmer,” Ingrid said, trying to keep the admiration out of her voice.

“Thank you,” Mapi said softly, “when I was a footballer, I got injured quite a lot and one of the ways to keep my fitness was through swimming. It turned out it was actually fun, and when I quit football, I carried on with swimming.”

“That’s nice.”

Ingrid gently kicked her feet in the pool and watched the water ripple. She was overtaken by a sudden wave of nervousness, a foreign feeling that she had only felt when speaking to crowds of millions or negotiating with presidents. She had this itching need to impress her new bodyguard, and although she knew she hadn’t made the best first impression, if anyone could turn it around it was her.

“So,” Mapi said with a smirk, “are you planning on sitting by the side of the pool or are you going to get in?”

Ingrid scoffed, “I’m just taking my time- I've had enough scares for one day.”

She sent a pointed look in Mapi’s direction, and the Spaniard smiled sheepishly.

“Oof,” Ingrid said as she slowly tried to lower herself in, “It’s a bit cold.”

“Nah, it’s fine once you’re in.”

Raising her eyebrow in doubt, Ingrid dipped her fingers into the water and immediately retracted them, the contrast of the cold water on her hot skill not entirely pleasant. She knew Mapi was probably right, but not everyone had the nerve to throw themself in without a second thought.

When Ingrid made no move to submerge herself any further, Mapi had an idea. She removed one arm from the side of the pool and put it back in the water. Flicking her wrist upwards, she watched as the water sailed through the air and landed on Ingrid’s chest.

Ingrid squealed, her mouth gaping open in shock. It felt like ice cubes were running down her chest and the surprise of it took the breath out of her lungs. Mapi retreated to the middle of the pool, treading water and waiting to see what the Norwegian’s next move would be.

When Ingrid recovered from the shock of the splash she couldn’t help but smile at the Spaniard’s grinning face. She looked so pleased with herself, and Ingrid wasn’t going to let her new bodyguard tease her that easily.

In a fluid motion, she pushed off from the side towards an unsuspecting Mapi, who had no time to react. Because Ingrid was taller, she could touch the floor, and she used that to her advantage to push off it and grab Mapi by the shoulders, pushing the bodyguard down. Mapi flailed helplessly as she was completely submerged under the water until her legs hit the ground and she could finally push herself up, emerging as a spluttering mess.

“Don’t mess with a princess,” Ingrid warned in a teasing tone, “I won’t be so nice next time.”

“Noted,” said a smirking Mapi, wiping the water out of her eyes, “although you’re in the water, so who’s really the winner here?”

Ingrid scoffed, “You’re insufferable.”

Mapi shrugged and continued with her lengths while Ingrid grabbed an inflatable and lay in it, purposefully steering it towards Mapi so the Spaniard would have to swim around her. After the third diversion, Mapi stopped and raised her eyebrow at a smiling Ingrid.

“What?” Ingrid said innocently, feigning confusion,

“You know what,” Mapi huffed, shaking her head in disbelief.

Ingrid shrugged nonchalantly, a small smirk on her face; her plan to slowly rile up her bodyguard until she left her alone seemed to be working.

Ingrid soon got out of the pool and returned to her sun lounger, grabbing her book from her bag and opening it with a sigh. She had only managed to read the first sentence before it was rudely plucked from her hands by a dripping Mapi.

“A Jack Reacher,” Mapi said, turning the book over and reading the blurb, “I thought you’d be into something a little more highbrow.”

Ingrid scowled and grabbed her book back from her new bodyguard. Mapi might’ve been the most infuriating person she’d ever met; she wouldn’t even let Ingrid read her book in peace.

“Do you not have any work to do?” Ingrid said with a sigh.

Mapi nodded and sat herself down in the sun lounger next to Ingrid, her face turned towards the Norwegian, “Yeah I do- watching you.”

“That’s not creepy at all,” Ingrid muttered under her breath, even though the entire premise of Mapi’s job was to keep an eye on her.

“You’ll be thankful I’m here when someone tries to kidnap you,” Mapi said wisely, “Jack Reacher is only a fictional character.”

“Very funny” Ingrid said in a monotone voice, “I still think I’d trust him more than you.”

Mapi just smirked and lay back on her lounger. Ingrid tried to read her book, but the sunbathing Spaniard in her peripheral vision was only serving to distract her. After re-reading the same sentence five times, Ingrid huffed and gave up, moving off her sun lounger to perch on the edge of Frido’s.

“Are you having a good time?” she said cheerfully to her two friends. Caro was cowering in the shade, her pale skin already turning a pale pink. However, she was already on her third cocktail, so Ingrid couldn’t imagine she was feeling too much discomfort.

“Mmm,” Frido said sleepily, “This is paradise.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Ingrid said, a small smile playing on her lips. She loved nothing more than seeing her friends happy, and she wanted this holiday to be perfect for them as well. Frido worked for her father, which meant she worked twice as hard as anyone else to prove herself, and Caro was currently finishing her PhD. They rarely had a chance to hang out together without Frido being pulled away to an urgent meeting or Caro not showing up, too immersed in her research to notice the time passing.

“You seemed to be having fun,” Caro said with a smirk, nodding her head slightly in Mapi’s direction.

Ingrid scoffed, “I’m just trying to butter her up so she’ll leave us alone tomorrow.”

Even as she said that sentence, Ingrid knew it wasn’t true. She had a good time in the pool with Mapi, and it was the first time in a while that she had felt completely like herself. There were no expectations to be polite or in control, and Ingrid felt a weight lifted off her shoulders, even when Mapi teased her. Not only was the Spaniard attractive, but she was also funny and caring, qualities that normally made Ingrid weak at the knees. If Mapi was just a person on the street, Ingrid would be flirting with her from the get-go. However, Ingrid was technically her boss, and she knew this was a line she couldn’t cross.

“Sure you are,” Caro said, raising her eyebrows at her fellow Norwegian, “She’s not my cup of tea, but even I can see she’s insanely attractive...”

“...and your type,” Frido added with a chuckle.

They both stared at Ingrid inquisitively, and she could feel herself blushing. She thought that she had been subtle with her admiration of Mapi, but clearly, her friends knew her better than that.

“Fine,” Ingrid said with a sigh, “I’ll admit that she’s hot...”

Her friends squealed excitedly, sharing a victorious look between themselves.

“Who’s hot?”

Ingrid head whipped around so quickly that she nearly got whiplash. Standing behind her was a smirking Mapi, her damp hair hanging in loose waves around her face. Ingrid’s eyes widened in shock, her mind freezing.

“Uhh,” Ingrid uncharacteristically stuttered, “Taylor Swift?”

She immediately cursed herself at her lame response, hating how it came out sounding more like a question than a statement.

Mapi cocked her head and thought for a second, “I prefer dark-haired girls.”

Her eyes momentarily flitted down Ingrid’s body while the princess stared at the floor in embarrassment, completely missing the small smile on her bodyguard's face. Ingrid couldn’t tell if she was purposefully describing her appearance to wind her up, or if it was the truth. The latter option made Ingrid’s heart flutter, despite her strict rules on not breaching the line between business and pleasure. Ingrid couldn’t dare to look up, and she waited for what seemed like an eternity until Mapi finally left with a wave.

“I bet you two sleep together before the end of the holiday,” Caro said seriously, her observant nature picking up on the way Mapi’s eyes lit up when she looked at Ingrid, or how she had never seen her friend as affected by a woman before.

“Caro!” Frido said sternly, playfully slapping her friend on the arm, “That was meant to be just between us.”

Ingrid shook her head in disbelief and left her two scheming friends to themselves, returning to her room for a shower. She got changed into a cream linen dress and sat on her balcony for a while, finally getting started on her book. Lost in the pages, she didn’t notice the quiet knock on her door.

“ Princesa?” Mapi said softly, peering around the door. The princess’ room was spotless, every article of clothing meticulously hung in the wardrobe or out of sight. Even her bedside table was sparse, only housing a gold watch and an eye mask.

“Out here,” Ingrid shouted from the balcony, adjusting her dress and closing her book.

Mapi walked over to the balcony and slid open the glass door, “It’s time for dinner.”

“Thanks,” Ingrid said, getting up and carefully placing her book on her bedside table, “you know you can call me Ingrid? I’m not going to put you in prison or anything.”

Mapi smiled sheepishly, following the Norwegian out of the room, “I didn’t want to assume...”

“Why?”

“Well, I heard you had a reputation of being a stickler for the rules...”

“Oh.”

“... and I didn’t want to offend you in any way.”

Ingrid chuckled and carried on walking along the corridor. When she reached the dining room door, she stopped abruptly and turned around so she was facing Mapi, the older woman’s eyebrow furrowing in confusion. She wasn’t sure if she’d offended Ingrid by insinuating she was a goody-two-shoes, and the mischievous glint in the princess’ eye only made her more nervous.

“Your sources wouldn’t be completely wrong,” Ingrid said, her voice low and quiet. She leaned closer to Mapi, her mouth only centimetres away from her ear, “but sometimes I can make exceptions to the rules.”

Mapi’s breath hitched as Ingrid pulled away with a smirk on her face, flouncing into the dining room like nothing happened. The Spaniard shook her head slowly and followed her in, sighing as she noticed the only place available was next to the Norwegian. Normally the staff didn’t eat with the royal family, but seeing as they were on holiday and only had one chef, it made more sense to eat together.

The chef soon brought out the paella and the group tucked in, Mapi gasping as Ingrid revealed that she’d never had it before.

“Really?” She said in disbelief, putting her fork down on the table, “but how have you survived without it?”

Ingrid huffed, “Quite easily. Have you ever tried fårikål?”

It was a traditional Norwegian stew that Ingrid was practically certain that Mapi had never heard of, let alone eaten.

Mapi shook her head, and this time it was Caro’s turn to gasp in disbelief.

“See,” Ingrid said, “different countries, different cuisines.”

“Fair enough,” Mapi said, “and all compliments to your chef, but this paella is no match to mine.”

“Cocky much?” Ingrid replied teasingly.

Mapi shrugged, “one woman once said it was better than sex, so I think I’m justified.”

The rest of the table watched their banter with a smile. The pair were in their own little world, their only objective riling up the other.

“I think that says more about your abilities in bed than your paella-making abilities.” Ingrid fired back, the words rushing out of her mouth.

“I don’t think that was a problem,” Mapi said smugly.

She returned to eating her paella as Ingrid blushed, realising her comment probably wasn’t appropriate for the dinner table.

“Alright you two,” Steven said sternly, “stop with the arguing and let the rest of us eat our meals in peace.”

“She started it,” Ingrid said sulkily, digging her fork into her paella and taking another bite. She knew she was acting like a disgruntled toddler, but she had never met someone who could get under her skin so easily. There was something about the Spaniard’s smug smile and cocky demeanour that made all her inhibitions go out the window. The worst part was that Mapi seemed to enjoy watching her squirm and Ingrid could do nothing about it, her responses falling off the tip of her tongue before she had time to think.

Thankfully the rest of the meal was peaceful. Mapi asked Frido and Caro about their respective jobs, asking enough follow-up questions to make Ingrid wonder if she was truly interested in their responses and not just making small talk. She shared stories about her childhood in Zaragoza, a city that Ingrid had never heard of before, but despite that, Ingrid felt like she had lived there all her life given the expressive way Mapi described it. Her hands gestured wildly as she described the architecture and her favourite local bakery, and the entire table was enthralled.

After a lovely array of tropical fruits, they moved to the living room. Ingrid purposefully sat on the edge of the sofa and gestured for Frido to come and sit next to her. The Swede smiled sheepishly and sat on the other sofa next to Caro, leaving the space next to Ingrid free. Steven deserved the armchair, which only left one person to squeeze onto the sofa next to her.

Mapi.

Ingrid sent a dirty look to her friends and moulded herself to the armrest, leaving plenty of room for Mapi to sit on the other side. Yet despite the ample room available, the Spaniard decided to plonk herself in the middle of the sofa, her thighs brushing Ingrid’s bare leg as she sat down.

Huffing as the sofa dipped slightly, Ingrid attempted to push Mapi further to the left and out of her personal space. The Spaniard’s tricep was firm under her palm, and no matter how hard Ingrid pushed, she wouldn’t budge.

“Do you fancy moving to the other side of the sofa? Or maybe out of this room?” Ingrid said sarcastically.

“Nah, I’m quite comfortable here.”

Mapi leaned back into the sofa, a smug smile playing on her lips.

“I’m afraid it's royal orders,” Ingrid said sweetly, “I can’t chop your head off, but I can make your life a living hell for the next few days.”

Mapi gasped in mock horror, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Watch me,” Ingrid said with a raise of her eyebrow.

The problem was that Ingrid didn’t normally mind people invading her personal space. If it was Frido sitting next to her, she probably would’ve beckoned her closer so there wasn’t a divide between them. But Mapi’s soft skin brushing hers made her erupt in goosebumps, and the feeling on her hard triceps was only making her even more flustered. Ingrid wasn’t sure she would be able to survive watching a movie when all she could smell was the Spaniard’s sandalwood perfume and hear her shallow breaths.

With reluctance, Mapi shifted across to the other side of the sofa and Ingrid finally breathed a sigh of relief. Her shoulders relaxed and her heart returned to its normal steady rate, Mapi’s mere proximity affecting her physically.

Caro and Frido sniggered to each other on the other sofa, having watched the pair interact all day with amusement. Their usually unflappable princess had a crush, and it was the cutest thing they’d seen in a while. They knew how much Ingrid dedicated herself to improving Norway, and if anyone deserved a little holiday fling, it was her.

“Right,” Frido said, “now we’ve sorted that, I think it's time to choose a film.”

“Finally,” Steven muttered from his armchair, sulkily staring at Mapi and Ingrid. He had signed up to a calm girl's holiday, not a squabbling match between two people who clearly just needed to do something about their attraction to each other.

Ingrid stared apologetically at him, and he instantly softened at those round, green eyes. He had been guarding the princess for nearly a decade, and no matter how much he tried to resist giving in to her, he always did. He couldn’t recall the number of times he had broken the rules so Ingrid could attend a party or concert, putting his job on the line to make her happy. But despite her hard exterior, Steven knew she had a heart of gold and that she would never let anything happen to him, happy to take the blame for his lapses in judgement . He knew he should be stronger with her, which is why he had asked the Queen for an extra bodyguard for the holiday; he just hadn’t anticipated all this.

[dr3c0mix]

All You Need

Yandere! Bodyguard x Gn Reader

CW: obsessive behavior, minor stalking

i changed his name, his old name was doo doo, it was but a trick of the light

IM CHANGING HIS NAME AGAI-

♠️ Never before would you have ever considered hiring a bodyguard, you could defend yourself on your own just fine, but with all your rival manufacturers trying to get you out of the competition with assassinations and attempted kidnappings, you had no choice.

♠️ Feelings were a very rare thing for Baron, and he was fine with it, after all, emotions weren't a very helpful thing to have when your job is to kill people. There was no room for soft, sappy things like that when you lived in his side of the city.

♠️ But his cold and empty demeanor was somehow broken through the moment he saw you.

♠️ The smile you had on your face pierced his heart like cupid's arrow, it was like love at first sight for him.

♠️ He was just getting some rest after a particularly stressful job at a nearby bar when he heard the sweetest laughter from across the room.

♠️ There you were, the most beautiful person he's ever laid eyes upon. You were sitting with some other people, talking and drinking together like all the other patrons, but you stood out to him like a precious gem amongst stone.

♠️ It seemed as if the world slowed down when your eyes briefly met his.

♠️ He would now frequent that bar, learning what you like to order, when you get there and who you'd be with.

♠️ He's never talked to you, or even interacted with you in any way, but the feelings he had for you couldn't be denied. You're just too adorable!!

♠️ Through his connections, he found out you were a big name in weapons design. Unique and beautifully deadly instruments of death were created by your hands. Is it weird he finds that hot?

♠️ He'd start off making anonymous orders for weapons to you, it was normal to get one that was unnamed, so you thought nothing of it.

♠️ When he got his order, an intricately designed dagger, he couldn't bring himself to use it on anyone. This is a gift from his kind and talented darling! He couldn't just stab it into someone's chest like any other knife!

♠️ Yes, he has a little shrine of you.

♠️ When he heard you were hiring for a bodyguard, he was ecstatic! Finally, he can be with you for real! He had to stop himself from giggling like a little girl in front of his colleagues.

♠️ He applied for the job and immediately was given instructions to your address, he read it over and over again until it was engraved into his mind.

♠️ "Tomorrow, 5pm. 93 Lebberside Ave. Door with the hummingbird symbol on it in the alley. Do not be late."

♠️ When he arrived at the location, his heart was pounding under his cold expression. He knocked on the door and heard a muffled crash from inside with a small "Shit!" before the sound of multiple clicks of locks followed.

♠️ You pulled the door open and looked up at the man with dark eyes.

♠️ "Are you the applicant?"

♠️ "Y-yes.." God he stuttered, he hoped you couldn't see his flushed face.

♠️ "Good, come in." You pulled him in and swiftly locked the door again.

♠️ He looks around and it looked like a normal home, albeit a little cluttered. Boxes of files and paper were almost everywhere with takeout boxes and noodle cups on every surface of the house. Looks like you've been piled with work for a long time, poor thing, you really need him to take care of you don't you?

♠️ He sits down on the couch across from the little bean bag you were sitting on while reading a file you grabbed from the coffee table, god you're adorable..

♠️ "So you're..?"

♠️ "Baron..Baron Valencia.."

♠️ "Baron..."

♠️ Oh god say his name again please plea-

♠️ "Hm..your file's pretty good..and you don't have any recent dealings with my competitors? Interesting, looks like you have a good eye for quality weaponry huh?" You smile at his file before looking at him with fox eyes. The things he'd let you do to him...

♠️ "I just took a liking to your model's, they're more convenient and useful than others.." He says with a straight face.

♠️ You chuckle and ask him a few more questions before eventually moving on to small talk, he relished in the time you two spent together laughing at past experiences and jokes, it was like he's known you forever, it took every muscle in his body just to stop himself from smiling too much.

♠️ Eventually, you got up and patted his lap, putting down the file. "Well, Mr. Valencia, you're hired!" You say with a smile, the same smile that melted his heart the first time he saw you.

♠️ "Really?! I-I mean- thank you..Boss.."

♠️ He regains his calm composure after letting his voice go a little too high for his liking, any embarrassment he would've had in that situation was replaced with a warm, tingly feeling as you placed a hand on his shoulder, giggling.

♠️ After that, he'd watch you like a hawk, always being by your side ready to protect you, even if you’re just at home. You never know when someone will try to hurt you!

♠️ He'd be looming over you, giving any poor soul trying to talk to you a death stare until you introduced them as friends of yours, he's a giant guard dog basically.

♠️ His stoic expression would persist even when you make small talk with him all the time so casually. It was like he wasn't even your bodyguard sometimes, just a friend you were hanging out with.

♠️ He wasn't all intimidating and cold, he was also very concerned for your health...all the time, and can you blame him? You've been living off of takeout and instant noodles for months!

♠️ "Boss, I think you should eat a proper dinner and not fastfood again, I'll cook for you."

♠️ "Your work can wait, Boss. I'm sure your client can wait another day, please, you look tired."

♠️ It's all part of being your bodyguard! He has to keep you safe and healthy! He'd be happy to move in so he can protect you 24/7 if you'd let him.

♠️ He'd offer to help you clean your living space a little too, since you're so busy and all with work, he might as well make life easier for you. You said yes to get him to stop pestering you about it and when you came back to the living room, all the clutter and empty food containers were gone..as well as a few of your clothes..I guess he put them away as well, how nice of him.

♠️ If you confront him about this, he'd deny it all flushed in between stutters.

♠️ "Well Baron, it sounds to me like you want to be my househusband more than a bodyguard with all your offers for looking after me and such."

♠️ "Wh- Me? N-no! I'd never! I-I mean unless you'd want that..Not that I'm saying I want to! But well uhm- I-if you uh..uhm..I'll leave you alone to work..."

♠️ On days off a.k.a. days you forced him to take a break from taking care of you to get a bit of breathing space for yourself, he'd stalk your social medias or flat out stalk you. A true bodyguard never stops protecting their boss! He just wants to watch over you!

♠️ On the rare occasions that you're too deep in work and not getting a blink of sleep, he'd use his strong arms to pull you into bed and force you to rest. It wasn't long before he heard you softly snoring in his arms, you were exhausted from long days of working and delivering orders and evading taxes and such, no wonder you went out like a light.

♠️ He looked down at you as he sighed lovingly, placing a kiss on your head, whispering a soft "Goodnight, cariño.." Before drifting off to sleep himself.

♠️ "..Goodnight Baron.."

♠️ "B-Boss! Y-you heard that?!"

[s-milesart]

a doberman woman working for Diamond Securities. A top-of-the-line bodyguard service ready to save your ass when the chips are down.

"A Hand, for Every Suit. A Fist, for Every Fold."

"Hey, be glad you didn't hire the Joker. They're... A wildcard. Ha."

[zoe-oneesama]

Speaking her love language: taking care of her handmade gifts.

Episode 43 Part 4

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Season 1, Season 2, Season 3, Season 4, Season 5

Ep 41, Ep 42, Ep 44, Ep 45, Ep 46, Ep 47

Bonus:

Ko-fi | Patreon

[miguelsslvt]

SO AFTER READING your ... Miguel smut 😩✊ which is so freaking good and I wanted to ask if you can make an bodyguard/brat tramer !Miguel x FM/sassybrat!reader PLS I NEED THIS IN MY LIFE PLS SMUT please I'm on my knee on this idea like pls imagine Miguel trying n to do his job but FMbrat!reader wouldn't stay put and bend her over any surface and GO ABOUSTLY *Feral*ON her not giving READER ANY BREAK ! ONLY making her an moaning MESS while SAYING such thing like

"Oh? ..f-fu..So... This will shu-fu-ck!~....You so tight huh? You like when.!-.. I treat you like a...~!*fucking*slut" *"Mis extremas*" ( I use Google translate I'm so sorry if it wrong pls correct me I am!😭)

🗣🗣🗣🗣😩😩✊I CANT I NEED THIS PLS GURLL!.mother I love your writing🙌

(Im definitely a normal think about this man ,Miguel ohara)

bodyguard! brat tamer! miguel x brat! reader smut

word count: 445

TW: hugely nsfw, hair pulling, overstimulation, creampie.

A/N: SWEETHEART I FEEL YOU!! i was so excited to do this request because as a brat myself, i love this concept so much. brat tamer miguel has my heart djhisdjdgkl!! anyways, welcome to the club! ^^

god, did you regret not listening to his warning sooner. you were in the kitchen, whining as usual.

'no! i don't want to go see my dad!!' 'y/n your father wants to make sure y-' 'i don't care! who are you for me to listen to!? you aren't anyone special!' you whined. god, you were such a princess.

--------------------

'still not anyone special am i, sweetheart? because i-.. ay coño... i think i'm the one fucking you so hard you can't focus right now.~' he said behind your ear, as you held onto the kitchen counter for dear life. you were a moaning mess, eyes rolled back as miguel relentlessly plowed his way into you.

'aww poor princess.. can't even process a single word other then my name hm?~' he teased, pulling your hair back as you let out a squeal. 'm-miguel!! p-lease~ g-gonna-' 'oh no no muñeca.. only good girls get to cum. and i don't think you've been good have you?' he mocked, as you moaned in response, drool spilling from your mouth. miguel let out a light chuckle.

'aw look at you, you're lucky your dad let me to take care of you, hm? i wonder what he would think if he saw you like this.. all blabbering nonsense as your bodyguard fucks some sense into you~'

god, you couldn't feel anything. you were close, so close. but you knew that if you'd cum, miguel would make this so much worse then it had to be. even though you liked a challenge, you couldn't even form words to think right now, let alone another punishment.

'i-i'll b-be g-good! i-i swear!' you cried out, a moaning mess as tears and drool fell down your face, down to your neck. your hair stuck onto your forehead, as the restr was held by miguel's strong hand, where his other was on your hip, guiding you deeper onto his 9 inches.

'good? yeah? you'll be good for me muñeca?' he panted, feeling his climax arising. 'm-mhm!! y-yes- m-miguel ple-ase!~' you moaned out, as he let go of your hair and started to play with your clit.

you were practically chanting 'yes, please, miguel' as if your life depended on it. 'g-gonna..! i- m-miguel-' 'shh.. cum for me sweetheart, i know i know, you've been too good for me to not let you cum.' he said, as with that, you broke.

as your pussy spasmed around his cock, miguel let out a loud groan as he came moments after you, filling you. you gasped for air, as he panted with you.

wait, didn't your dad request to see you earlier? is that a knock on the door?!

[crazyoffher]

WATCHTOWER.

jenna ortega x fem!reader

summary: a late-night visitor treads into the restaurant you work at, entering with the plan to grab a drink before heading home, and leaving with her drink and a girl on her mind.

warnings: not proofread (unedited).

word amount: 2600+

part two part three

You wiped the tables, a dry cloth over your shoulder as you dragged the damp towel across the wood surfacing. It was a quarter past eleven and your coworker had just served his last table of the night, opting to help the dishwasher load the silverware for the next morning which took about five minutes, leaving you to wipe down each table and chair in the main room and VIP section while he waved his goodbyes to you not long ago.

To say the restaurant having working air conditioning was a major relief considering spring was around and the temperatures were increasing day by day, and it didn't help that because your restaurant was a high-end restaurant in the core of LA, you wore a black button-up with black slacks for pants, black dress shoes, and a white vest and tie as your everyday work outfit.

You were a sweating maniac most days.

You heard the door to the restaurant entry open, sparing the entry's a glance before directing your attention to the table, the last table you had to wipe down, at that. "Sorry, we closed about thirty minutes ago. If you'd like me to, I can set you up a reservation for another day." At the end of your sentence, you looked up at the entryway to get a full glance at the three figures standing at the entry.

The first two to catch your eye were two men dressed in all black with semi-bulky figures, figuring them out to be bodyguards. You looked down slightly to the girl that they were protecting, immediately recognizing her.

It's a part of your job to identify celebrities as they come and go through the restaurant to give them better treatment, so America's new 'It' girl, Jenna Ortega, was not somebody you could've possibly failed to notice. She gave you a slight smile.

"Oh no, it's fine. I was just coming in and out of places around here to see who was still open so I could get a drink." She laughed it off which made you crack a small smile. Looking around the area to see all of the tables cleaned and mostly everything set for tomorrow, you turned back to the girl. "Well, if you were just looking for a drink, I could sit you at the bar for now."

You pointed toward the stools where the bar was, seeing as it was one of the last things you had to set up for the next day. "I don't fully lock up until twelve and I have to fix up the bar anyway, it's fine."

Even from a distance, you could see the uncertainty in her eyes at making you work a bit extra just for her. "You sure?"

"Totally. Sit at any stool," You shot her a smile before grabbing the last chair to turn upside down and put on the table, "and I'll be right there."

You could hear her spare you a 'thank you' before listening to the shuffling of her and her bodyguards, shooting a glance in their direction to see the three sitting in stools, the bodyguards two seats to the left of Jenna, giving her space.

Were you a fan of Jenna's? Maybe. Normally, being in the presence of celebrities didn't bother you at all, you had grown accustomed to it. Something about her, though, it made you a bit nervous to go up and serve her at the bar. You put your fears aside, though, because you'd rather not keep her waiting.

Quickly, you went around the bar into the kitchen to put your cleaning items away, washing your hands quickly but thoroughly before grabbing three glasses from the racks and heading out to the bar.

"You'd like a..." You trailed off, waiting for her to finish your sentence to which she did. "Vodka martini."

You shot her a look, a smile plastered on your face. "At this hour - no, at your age?" She genuinely laughed at your remark, "Okay, you got me. I know you might get this question a lot, and you might hate it, but what do you like that's non-alcoholic?"

You put on your thinking face, settling to ignore the short side-eyes her bodyguards were giving you while deep in their own conversation. "A berry soda usually does it for me. You mix any sort of berry syruping, raspberry, blueberry, etcetera into a Sprite or Sierra Mist, and if you want just a tiny bit of alc then you add a tadpole amount of white wine. A lime is optional, too."

"I guess I'll be having a...strawberry soda then, Sprite with a lime."

"Yeah, you trust me? - My recommendation, I mean." You pulled a strawberry syrup bottle out from under the counter, never breaking eye contact with the girl.

She giggled lightly at your word mix-up. "You seem like somebody I could trust, so sure. You look...good, by the way." Jenna added in, having eyed your suit-wear as she was making her way to a stool. Nervousness was laced in her voice, but you were too oblivious as a person generally to notice.

At the unexpected compliment, your cheeks tinted a slight red, breaking eye contact to hide away your face and grab one of the three cups you had placed out. "Thank you. I dare say you look nice as well."

Jenna scoffed, 'Yeah right." She looked down at her clothing, sporting baggy black jeans and a plain black tee that was covered by a jacket with designs all over it. "My outfit is about the plainest it could ever be."

You shook your head at her, turning to grab a Sprite out from the mini-fridge. "Your outfit never defines whether you look good or bad, not in my books anyway. It's about the face, or even the heart, as corny as that definitely sounds."

Your back was now turned to Jenna, cracking open the bottle of Sprite and pouring it over the ice in a metallic cup. So, unless you had eyes on the back of your head, you couldn't see Jenna with her elbow on the countertop, hand resting on her cheek as she glanced all around your figure.

Something about you to her was...interesting. She couldn't put her finger on it.

"That means you think I have a nice heart. You just met me." Though she couldn't see it, you grinned widely at her audacity to pinpoint the 'heart' part of your words instead of the 'face' part.

"I'd like to hope you do have a good heart, but I'm not sure because just like you said, we just met. I do know you have a rather pretty face, anybody could see that part of you, and I think that's enough for now." You placed the lid over the metallic cup, holding it before grabbing the bottom of the cup and shaking harshly.

Jenna, somebody who was quick with her words, struggled to respond to you. She found no words to possibly combat the indirect, massive compliment you just gave her.

As she drafted her next sentence, she overlooked the cup in front of her until her hand brushed against it mindlessly. Removing her other hand from her cheek, she looked at the glass in front of her, the drink a vibrant red from the strawberry syrup. She then looked up to see you, your eyes staring back at her.

"Are you okay? You seem a bit out of it." Your eyebrows furrowed in slight concern, and the only thing Jenna could do was shake her head. "Oh no, I'm fine. Just a bit tired. And thank you."

"Likewise. And you're welcome." You portrayed a smile that Jenna seemed to enjoy viewing. Eyeing her bodyguards, you leaned in over the counter to shorten the space between you and Jenna for the action of whispering. "Do you know if they want anything from here?"

Jenna's already slight smile grew wider, "What, you're scared to talk to a duo of big guys?" To her words, you gave her a sour look that she knew was all sarcastic.

"Well, in my experience, bodyguards haven't always been the nicest. More overly protective, and yeah, that's their whole job but sometimes they could just tune it down a bit. You try to hand someone their food and they eye you down like you're about to pull a gun out." You pushed yourself back slightly, deciding to give Jenna more space even though she quite didn't mind the vicinity between the two of you.

"I guess that's fair. Eddie, Bennett." She called to them, the two burly men immediately halting their conversation and directing their attention to the significantly small girl.

"Do you want anything from the bar?" The two men eyed you for a split second, leaving you to fiddle with your own fingers in a somewhat nervous state while you awaited an answer.

"Er, just a water."

"Same here."

You muttered an 'okay' before grabbing the other two cups and filling them with water, handing them off to the two men who each thanked you. "I'd say they're pretty nice." Jenna retorted, and you shook your head at her.

"You try the drink yet?" You moved to the bar's ledges where all the alcohol was at, all out of place and some caps left open, and got to work organizing everything while maintaining a conversation with Jenna.

You didn't get a response from her immediately, maybe around three seconds after. "Well, now I just did."

"What 'ya think?"

"I think that I should come here more often so I can get this drink served to me more often by a pretty cute waitress." Jenna regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. It was said with complete confidence, but now she found herself being too bold.

You pursed your lips to fight back the smile that challenged itself to spread, not daring to face her. You guessed Jenna was one for eye contact, as her eyes mercilessly burned into your face at (seemingly) all times.

"Why'd you want a drink so late, especially if you're tired? Don't you have like...a personal little bartender in your million-dollar home?" You cheekily ghosted her wealth, and Jenna bit the inside of her cheek to fight the smile that wanted to glue itself to her face.

"I had business meetings all day, sponsorships, and whatnot. I started them at around ten-ish this morning and I got out not even twenty minutes ago. I didn't want to go home just yet despite the fact that I feel more than ready to pass out on my bed. What have you done all day?"

"Be whined to multiple times and berated by D-list celebrities for not cooking their steak correctly. If you couldn't tell by now, I'm not the cook. I'll deal with it all day everyday though, the number of tips I get by the end of the day is fucking amazing."

"Give me a number." Jenna sipped on her drink, returning her arm to it's former position with her elbow resting on the countertop and her palm on her cheek, listening intently.

"I'd say...a thousand to fifteen hundred per day, two-thousand if we have actual A-listers come in. I earn my rent in a day." You laughed, and Jenna surprisingly looked shocked at the number. "You make that much working, what? Five days a week? That's about seventy-five hundred a week just on tips!"

"Well, because of the number of tips each of us normally get plus our actual paycheck, they shorten the days we work, so I actually work three days a week. I'll take it though, that's eighteen thousand a month on tips."

"That's too much, what's the catch?"

"Being berated constantly, having food and drinks thrown at you by adults acting like toddlers, and you have to be ridiculously fast. I'm talking taking customers' orders, giving other customers their orders, and sometimes making drinks all at the same time. It's stressful, a lot of people quit after the first month or so."

"That sounds awful, how long have you been here?"

You pondered about it. The days moved by fast when you were working so sometimes you lose track of what month it is, even. "Er, six months next week, I'm sure. It's hard to even keep track of months sometimes when the days go by so fast, plus the stress. Right now, I'm probably the most relaxed I've ever been standing in this restaurant, and I have you to thank for that."

Jenna grinned a big, flashy smile that you seemed to heat up at, slyly trying to feel your face. "Well, you're welcome. I - yeah?"

Jenna was interrupted by a tap on her shoulder, the finger belonging to her bodyguard, Bennett. He flashed up his phone to show her the time, "It's time to leave, miss. We promised to have you in the car by 11:45 at the latest."

Jenna just nodded, glancing at her glass that was still 3/4th full before looking up at you, seeing that you were wiping down the glasses Eddie and Bennett had given back to you. "Here, I'll get you a styrofoam for it." You left into the kitchen with the glasses at hand, hanging them back on the rack before searching in a cabinet for a styrofoam cup.

By the time you walked back to the bar, Jenna and her bodyguards were standing up, Jenna's guards merely awaiting her movement while she stretched, waiting for you.

Taking the glass, you dumped the remains of her drink into the styrofoam before sealing it with a plastic lid, handing it off to Jenna who gladly took it. "You have books in here?"

Jenna pointed out the shelves hung up on a wall, holding books that were slanted against one another, most of them with bulky spines. "Oh yeah, those are mainly for decoration, but I've actually read one or two myself. Most of them are the owners but we're allowed to shelve our own books if we'd like."

"You put any up?" Jenna questioned, abandoning her position next to her bodyguards to get a closer look at the nailed shelf. "About three so far. I just finished reading a book of my own that I plan on putting up here as well."

You maneuvered to where Jenna was, pointing to a navy-blue book that was quite big, a bulky spine faced in their direction with the words "CROOKED YOUNG" stretched out across the spine. "Crooked Young, It's the best book I've ever read. I really recommend it."

"Yeah? Where can I buy it, Barnes and Noble?" Jenna looked up at you, taking in your height. You were about four, maybe five inches taller than her, and she could tell through the naturally-popping veins in your arms the way your body was shaped through your tailored dress shirt and vest, you were physically fit.

"What - oh no, take it." You reached forward, grabbed the book off the shelf, and handed it to her. She looked at you again, the same look of uneasiness in her eyes that she gave you earlier. "Before you say anything, yes I am positive you can take it. I've read it one too many times to keep it around, otherwise I'd might just read it again."

Jenna gave you one last smile that lasted until she was out the door. "Alright, but I will be returning this to you when I'm done."

"So desperate to see me again?" You teased, a sly grin on your face as you laughed the joke away. "And how do you plan on doing that if you don't even know my name?" You questioned her to which she just shrugged.

"Your name is..."

"(Y/N). And you are?" You raised your eyebrows, tilting your head to seem sincere about your question. Though she was more than aware you knew who she was, she answered, "Jenna. I'll be seeing you soon, (Y/N)."

And with that, she turned on her heel and left the restaurant, your eyes not leaving her rather-short frame until you couldn't see her anymore.

"Eddie?" Jenna called to one of her bodyguards. sat in the passenger seat as Bennett started driving away. "Yes, miss?"

"Do restaurant workers typically work the same days every week?"

He thought about it for a second before looking at her through the rearview mirror. "Most of the time, yes. Why?"

"Please try to keep in mind that she was working on a Thursday."

☟ ☟ ☟

You guys want a part two? Please comment it below or send your answers in my asks :)

[charliemwrites]

Ahahahaha it’s happening again-

Bodyguard!Gaz’s researcher is being transported to a facility in Russia. Apparently, there’s some tools or facility there that they need and have to be there in person to use.

Bodyguard!Gaz who has his charge memorize all their emergency plans like it’s lab safety protocol. Who runs all sorts of drills that they whine about but dutifully humor. Who gets his researcher bundled up for the plane in a big puffy coat. They refuse mittens or gloves because they need their hands free.

Bodyguard!Gaz who shows up late because his scientist kept fussing over equipment to bring and double checking that all the assistants were sorted instead of worrying about themselves. Gaz, who straps them in himself because they’re busy reading through the plane’s operating manual, blueprints folded in the back of the booklet.

An amused 141 looks on as he gently pries their mouth open to pop a Dramamine in their mouth. They don’t even glance up, mumble a quiet, “thank you, Ky,” as they flip a page.

Bodyguard!Gaz who glares daggers at Soap for getting the researcher’s attention just as the drowsiness from the pills is kicking in. Gaz was hoping they could sleep through the flight since he knows it’ll be at least 30 hours before they rest again once they land. He could strangle his teammate when he presents Gaz’s scientist with a modified flash-bang and sees their eyes light up, head coming off Gaz’s shoulder.

“What’s it made of?” The first question they always ask, about anything and everything, before they inevitably go on a research binge.

“No, no,” he says, tossing Ghost a look for help.

Ghost thankfully DOES, though Gaz’s researcher is still all keyed up now and he has to pull out the tablet early, lets them look at half-finished designs they made up in a blaze of over-caffeinated, under-rested mania. They start muttering over stupid mistakes and scribbling notes in the side….

Until slowly, their muttering gets quieter. The notes get lazier and loopier. They’re head starts to droop. Gaz can’t let them sleep like that, though, they get grumpy when their neck hurts before they’ve even started on a computer. So he tugs them against his chest. They go, mumbling Very Important Science notes that he hums and promises to write down.

And finally they settle in, bundled up and snuggling in for extra warmth, and he gently takes the stylus from their lax hand, saving the designs for them.

[cumtastiics]

What if you wrote about a crocodile tear yandere idol x body guard reader that falls for it? Like he would cry about anything just to get the readers attention and fully uses it as their advantage.

YAN!IDOL x BODYGUARD!READER

a/n: wahhhh this is cute 😭 i'd love to write more for him tbh pls req 🙏🏼

tw: yandere, manipulation.

alec was one of the most well-known idols of this generation, and because of that, he had a ton of obsessive fans! so naturally, he hired you, his lovely bodyguard.

alec was a very lazy person despite being constantly out of his home, doing whatever his idol duties called for. he'd always beg you to get something for him, but you always said no. you weren't even his manager!

"(Y/N)! (Y/N!)" he kept on calling out your name, desperate to get your attention as you ignored him, focusing on your job. you could see his bottom lip start to quiver from the corner of your eye, making you sigh.

"what is it, alec?" you turned your head to face him, seeing the tears already had begun to fall on his face.

"you keep ignoring me.." his voice was quiet now, looking away from your eyes.

"i'm sorry," you said. "i'll- i'll listen to you now, okay?" you tried to speak in a gentle tone with him, so he wouldn't cry more.

"really?" he sniffled, looking back at you with hope.

"yup," you sighed.

"thank you!" he hugged you, wiping his tears on your shoulder.

oh, if only you could see the grin that spread wide across his face.

[stop-ur-losing-me]

my favorite lovers tropes

academic rivals to lovers (IS SO GOOD, plus when theyre forced to work together)

the "why didn't you answer my letters??" followed by "you wrote me letters???" HEARTWRENCHING

fake dating (enough said)

the 'you need to learn how to dance so im gonna teach you and oh gosh why r we this close?' (honestly one of my all time favs)

the two enemies dancing together at a masquerade dance (yes, just yes)

the screamed love confession during an argument "BECAUSE I LOVE YOU" (best thing ever)

one bed trope (enough said)

the 'i hate everyone but you' couple (yesssss)

one losing their mind if the other is hurt or captured (cough percabeth cough)

the bodyguard/princess trope I REPEAT THE BODYGUARD/PRINCESS TROPE

the 'we were flirting and everyone else knows we were flirting but we're in denial bout it' (this trope)

MUTUAL PINING MUTUAL PINING

additionally, the 'everyone thinks we're dating but we r not/ in denial bout it' (BEST TROPE EVER)

the hero falling for the villain (honestly one of the best ones out there)

lovers to enemies (SO ANGSTY)

there's more i'll add when i can :)

[belovedyandere]

is it true that yandere bodyguard has a breeding kink? Can we have a peek?

it’s not even the idea of you having his kids. well a small part of it is. but why this kink holds him by a chokehold, is because of the image that you are filled to the brim by him. so much so that his fluids are mixing with yours as it drips out of you slowly, and he loves to watch it. it’ll be round after round, once he’s satisfied and you are left an incoherent mess, he’ll spread your legs wide for him to see and play with your hole, plugging his semen in until he can’t hold onto his thinning patience anymore, he wants to watch it spill out from you. his lips sucking on your thigh as he continues to observe your twitching hole spill him out. his semen is thick, and from a big body like his, he has huge quantities of cum to spill. and even if a good amount of his fluids spills, there’s more inside you, so much more lodged so deep that not even your beautiful fingers can reach. you have a part of him inside you. as he plays with your inner thigh and watches, he’ll coo at you so softly and will be telling you what a good girl/boy you’ve been for him, but once his embarrassment hits him, he’s quick to apologise and clean you up. don’t forget, no matter how perverted your yandere bodyguard is, he holds professionalism in high regard. he’ll grow embarrassed if you mention it, so try not to.

[mochinek0]

Daminette December 2023: 17-Bodyguard

Damian had heard the whispers and rumors when he first moved to Paris. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the baker's daughter and fashion designer had been head over heels for Adrien Agreste, the model. That had been years ago. Some of their friends refused to believe she moved on from her gigantic crush. He had heard the whispers of how she babbled and froze with just a glance. How she had memorized his schedule and planned their future together. He had heard how she had fallen for him with a simple gesture of giving her his umbrella in the rain. The only thing that had ever stopped them from getting together was how blind Adrien was. He never saw Marinette was anything more than a friend and everyone knew it. That might have been true; all of it. Damian knew that Marinette no longer felt like that, if it had ever been true.

From what he observed, Adrien was the one now persuing the baker's daughter. If any of it had been true, Marinette had long moved on. Adrien was constantly trying to get her attention and would search the halls for her. If anything, the roles had reversed. Adrien Agreste now stalked Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Adrien Agreste was still 'blind' in his book. The model took zero notice how Marinette reacted to being around him. He noticed the subtle flinches when Adrien called her name from down the hall. He noticed the terror in her eyes, before putting a smile on her face to greet a friend.

Damian froze the moment he saw her.

'Marinette? What is she doing here? I thought she couldn't have a pet in the bakery. Why is she in the pet store?'

His eyes followed her as she moved away from the front and towards the middle. She was almost hidden by the shelves.

'Hamsters?'

"Marinette!" Adrien shouted, "Do you like hamsters, too?"

"Uh, sort of." she answered, weakly.

"They're amazing!" he cried back, getting closer to her and the hamsters.

Even from where Damian stood, he could see Marinette's eyes were searching for a way out; an exit. He quickly put down the giant bag of dog food and rushed over.

"There you are Marinette." he spoke, pulling her towards him.

"Damian!" Mari exclaimed, surprised.

"Did you get lost?" he asked, "I apologize for getting so busy."

"You work here?" Adrien asked, "Why?"

"I volunteer." Damian answered, "I donate to several animal charities nd I like to make sure all the equipment is up to date."

"We can go see the puppies on files now." The Wayne heir suggested, "You said you were looking for a guard dog?"

Marinette lit up quickly, realizing Damian was giving her a way out.

"I'm so glad you remembered." she smiled.

"A dog?" Adrien asked, confused, "What about the hamster?"

"Oh." Mari spoke, "Well, I do think hamsters are cute, but with how scattered brain I get, I might forget instantly. I could forget to feed it or accidentally kill it with a giant roll of fabric." causing the model to wince.

"A dog is better." Marinette stated, "Their routine would be my routine."

"But why a guard dog?" he questioned.

"Why do you have a bodyguard?" Damian asked.

"Huh?" confusing the model.

"Guard dogs keep their owners safe." the Wayne heir answered, "They are loyal to a fault and will attack, if necessary." pulling Marinette closer to him.

Marinette blushed at the closeness. She quickly placed a hand on his chest to get his attention.

"We should go look at those files." She suggested, "You mentioned....training and I wan to make sure they are trained before university."

"Of course." Damian replied, leading Marinette to the back room and away from Adrien's prying eyes.

Damian picked up a radio to give the other workers a warning about Agreste. On the security cameras, he watched as the blonde model turned away and walk out the store.

'Seemed Marinette was his only goal here.'

Marinette sighed in relief as Damian placed the radio down.

"Thank you, Damian." Marinette spoke.

He nodded his head in understanding.

"But how did you know?" Mari asked.

"You are uncomfortable with him." Damian stated.

Marinette nodded her head.

"You look scared when you hear him call out your name in school." Damian spoke, "Sometimes, you turn pale. Doesn't seem like he notices."

"I thought no one noticed." Marinette answered, with a smile, "Thank you so much."

Damian chuckled, "Now, would you actually like a guard dog?"

"I would love one," Mari sighed, "but since I still live with my parents-"

"The bakery." The Wayne heir concluded.

She nodded her head and gave a shrug. Damian went over to a drawer and pulled out some files for an adoption event taking place soon. Marinette looked at him confused.

"It would not matter if I brought another dog home. At this point, it's expected. You would just have to wait." Damian stated.

Marinette smiled happily, "Really?"

"Only if you do not mind coing over to bond with your dog." he declared.

Marinette hugged him and quickly felt him flinch.

"Sorry!" she cried, pulling away from him, "Um, I'll just look at these."

Marinette browsed over the files he had handed her. Damian could tell she was seriously considering the guard dog idea. She started by ruling out the smaller dogs, he expected someone like her to own. By the end of her selection, she had five folders left.

"What do you think, Damian?" Mari asked, "Is there any of them I should rule out?"

Damian looked over the folders. There was a Labrador, Golden Retriever, German Shepard, Doberman, and an Akita.

"Two of these would make great pets, but not guard dogs." He spoke, "I believe you should look online and learn more about them before deciding. You need to make sure you can take care of them. I don't just mean their diet and health. There are many people who return animals because they have gotten bored or because they didn't expect how much time they would have to use to train it."

Marinette smiled, "Thank you. I can tell you really care about these animals. I can let you know by the end of the week."

Mari stood up, ready to leave. She bit her lip in hesitation.

"Are you alright?" He questioned.

"Um." She began, "Nevermind. It's stupid."

"What is it?" Damian asked, "You clearly think it is important. Why do you hesitate?"

Marinette blushed, "Do you think, until I get a guard dog- Can you be my guard dog? Bodyguard! I meant bodyguard; not guard dog! At school! Keep Adrien away from me?"

Damian chuckled, "I wouldn't mind at all."

Mari lit up at his response, "Oh! I can bring you breakfast! Are there any pastries you prefer?"

"I prefer savory over sweets." he answered.

"I can make savory tarts for you." She replied.

With a nod, Marinette left the back room and quickly left the store.

'Guard dog, huh?'

Adrien looked around and spotted Marinette already at school. He couldn't wait to see her and talk to her more about hamsters. As he made his way towards her, he watched as she made her way over to Damian. To his surprise, and likely everyone's surprise, Marinette latched onto his arm. Damian didn't seem to mind and led her away.

Damian smirked as Marinette latched onto his arm. He had seen Adrien arrive and watched as Marinette quickly made her way over to him. He hadn't expected the physical contact, but after he initiated it yesterday, she likely expected it. Damian quickly led her away from prying eyes and hushed whispers. As they walked away, he leaned down to her ear.

"Woof." he barked.

He hadn't expected her to squeak, let alone blush. He chuckled as Marinette puffed up her cheeks and let go of his arm. Cheeks still flushed, she hurried into the school. Damian turned back and caught Adrien staring at them in shock. Damian sent a glare his way before following after Marinette.

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[dr3c0mix]

How would Baron feel about his darling being very affectionate, like lots of hugs and kisses on the cheek sometimes?

Bodyguard x Affectionate Reader

♠️ You make his job challenging.

♠️ He's supposed to be a hard, cold, unfeeling mercenary!

♠️ AND YOU'RE GIVING HIM HUGS AND KISSES LIKE HE'S A BIG TEDDYBEAR!!!

♠️ The first time you gave him affection was after your interview with him. You took his hands and held them in yours as you smile up at him warmly. He never thought you'd be so adorable looking up at him so sweetly.

♠️ He has a little voice recorder that he rants about you to, he's in his house kicking his legs or pacing around excitedly retelling the events of that day.

♠️ If you hold his hand or kiss his cheek or something, he's not washing that part of his body for a few days.

♠️ He wishes he could kiss you back, wrap his arms around you, nuzzle his head into your neck while you two cuddle in bed after a long day, but he needs his head in the game right now!

♠️ If you're only affectionate with him, he'd feel so special! You'd both be in a private table at a bar waiting for a deal to do down for a custom silencer they ordered. You're latched onto his arm and kissing his face and bicep whining that you hope the deal will be quick so you both can relax back at your home.

♠️ You're too adorable rn stop it >:( "I'm sure it will be over soon Boss."

♠️ Once the guy finally arrives and sits down across from you, your sweet smile and warmth from your arms around him disappears. He glances at you for a moment, and you have the scariest glare he's ever seen on you. You really do live up to your name as someone you really don't want to deal with in the underworld.

♠️ If you're affectionate with other people, you bet your ass he'll have a good reason to give them hell if ever their name ends up in one of his jobs.

♠️ Your friends would receive a warm hug from you and get a chill down their spine once they see the fiery stare, he's giving them. They can almost feel the skin burning off between their eyes from how intensely he was watching them. They'd probably end up giving excuses for you to not meet up in person from fear of your protective bodyguard.

♠️ He might say how unprofessional it would look with you being so sweet and loving to him. "Boss, I'm not sure if all of...this..is very professional.."

♠️ But his suggestion is quickly thrown out the window when he sees your little pout as your arms squeeze his arm tighter.

♠️ If ever you two get to the point on your relationship that he's comfortable in showing a bit of his love to you, he's wrapping an arm around you, kissing the top of your head, having you on top of him as you two cuddle. Remember I said showing a b i t of his love. gurlie theres more where that came from.

[zoe-oneesama]

Things would’ve been over by now but SOMEONE decided to be “helpful” today.

Episode 43 Part 7

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[the-californicationist]

The Rush

MDNI/18+

You drag your tight-laced bodyguard, John Price, out to the club. He gets a bit of a contact high from your molly, and lets you ride his thigh to the rhythm.

TW: drug use, thigh riding, come on clothing

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Troye Sivan’s “Rush” was playing in the background, the heavy bass thumping through the hollow of your chest, and you were just beginning to feel the effects of the little blue pill you took in the car. The lights of the club were chaotic, brilliantly so, and you let the music guide you. But, you were lonely.

Your bodyguard was sulking off to the side, dressed like a cop even in casual wear, gripping his gun like it was going to fly away. You loved to bother this man. It didn’t hurt that he was fine as hell, built like a bull, and some type of ex-special forces bloke. It was those eyes, though. Something about the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the world.

You sauntered over to him, teasing him for the nth time tonight.

“Hey, John,” you rubbed yourself on him like a cat, “You having fun yet, big boy?”

He smiled with a little huff, scanning the room,

“No, ma’am. Workin’. Fun is for when I get off the clock.”

“I can get you off…” you had finally done enough to earn a long, hard stare, “Maybe not the clock, but…”

You smiled slyly and ran your hands up his shirt, feeling the hair and sweat sticking to his skin. His belly jumped under your hand, giving him away. He didn’t stop you, though, so you kept playing with him, letting his body keep you warm as you sweated out your drugs.

You were high as a kite, and all of his texture was making you hyper focused, stimulating yourself with the crease of his muscles, the scent of his cologne.

“Don’t you think it’s time we called it a night, ma’am?”

He tried to look at the crowd again, but your writhing form and your exploring hands were a little too distracting. You turned away from him, planting your plump arse against his crotch, grinding against him, hoping to feel his cock.

You reached up and looped your hands around his shoulders, digging into the meat of him, finding his bones,

“No, sir, I don’t. I think you should dance with me.”

You must’ve been higher than you thought. As the room pulsed around you, beating at you like a heart, you could have sworn you heard him moan. You whined your hips, trying to make him hard. Then, you went from feeling soft, loose fabric to something else entirely.

Surely…

You rolled around his hip again, just to be certain.

Surely, that monster was his gun and not his dick?

It was your turn to moan, and you did it with abandon. No one could hear you anyway, and the whole club was focused on their own experiences, not on you and your fucking obvious narc.

“Is that you, baby? My God, you are a big boy, aren’t you?”

He didn’t say anything, but he did place a hand on your hip, holding you noncommittally. It was too soft to be a push, but it was firm enough for you to feel his warm hand through the silk of your mini dress.

You grabbed it and brought it up the front of your body, bringing his palm to your breast, letting him feel the tight hardness of your nipple and the unbelievable softness of your flesh.

You heard it again. John had moaned into your ear, you were sure of it. As if to confirm your suspicions, he gave you the most delicate squeeze, and then released you.

You turned back around to find a very different man looking down at you. His eyes were blown, and he was breathing heavily through his nose.

“Don’t you wanna dance with me?” You begged.

Grabbing his fingers in your small hand, you brought them not to your breast but lower this time, under the short hem of your dress. You were still grinding against each other to the relentless beat, and it wasn’t until you tucked his hand all the way down between your legs that you watched his rhythm falter.

His fingers collided with your wet folds, slipping into them easily, and he reached deeper on his own accord, exploring your hole and all of the warm, soaking things it was promising him.

You cried out, planting a kiss to his collarbone, letting him finger fuck you as you grinded into each other, stirring up an intense flood of emotions and feelings, making your high feel like it would carry you to the ends of the earth together.

It was intoxicating to watch him untie himself from the ropes of his duties, and you could feel him humping into you on purpose, now, thrusting over the curve of your belly with his enormous length as he fingered you in the crowded club. The blue and green lights that lasered across his eyes made him look like a demon, snarling and hungry for you and everything you kept secret.

“How about you dance right here?” Price purred.

He took his hand from you and tasted you. Price licked you from his fingers, just like he was flipping the page of a book. Then, he raised up his knee and shoved it, hard, between your legs, giving you something wide and solid to grind on. Instinctively, your hands wrapped around his thigh, or tried to anyway, holding yourself steady.

Your fingertips brushed against the sensitive head of his cock, long enough to have reached your grip, and you gasped. Straddling him was a whole new experience, and your drug-soaked mind was reeling from it. It overwhelmed you, and as you used one hand to palm his cock on the outside of his jeans, you used your other to help rock your hips back and forth across the denim, reveling in the texture.

His head fell back when you touched him with your hand, and you smiled, praising him,

“You feel so damn huge.”

John’s eyes focused back on you in a flash, and you moved together, surging when the beat rose, and collapsing together when it fell, the two of you caught in its current.

He wrapped his huge hands around your waist and held you down on him firmly, keeping your pace for you.

His smile turned sinister as he commanded you,

“Let go. Let me.”

You did as he bade, wrapping the hand that had been steadying you around his hulking shoulder instead. His grip was painfully tight around your body, and his fingertips dug cruelly into your arse cheeks, pressing your wet pussy down into his muscle and bone.

He forced you back and forth along his thigh, picking up speed to match the drum and bass. You felt him stoke and blow at the fire within your core, and you looked up to him with a face you knew was full of your hungry lust.

“Is that what you needed, hm?”

“I need this thick cock, John.”

“Come for me, and I’ll give it to you, darlin’,” he promised darkly, leaning down to growl his words right into your ear.

You sent back a long moan into his, letting him drive your hips and rub your clit against him. You felt the wetness of the denim beneath you, and you knew you were soaking a spot into his pants.

“I’m getting you all wet,” you whined into his neck, licking along his throat just as he was kissing yours, sucking on your sensitive skin.

“Doesn’t matter,” he grunted, ruthless in his pace, “I’ve got you.”

The lights and sounds and colors and smell of him all invaded your mind. It was too much, and it was not enough. Everything was swirling together and you were floating through it, letting it carry you along like a stray leaf down a stream, buoyant and vulnerable.

But, John was there. He anchored you to him, letting your high run you wild while he kept you safe, locked in his hands. The molly was making you emotional, and when you started to come, you weren’t sure if it was from his physical efforts or from his delicate care.

You held onto his cock like a lifeline, stroking him steadily for comfort. It felt so good to press into his swollen head with your palm. He was so warm, like a glowing torch beneath your fingers. You wanted to see it.

You lost the pacing, but he kept it for you, grunting with every push and pull of your body, sounding as if he was coming with you as you tumbled over your peak, whimpering and mewling for him, pliant as a petal in his hands.

“John, please… oh, fuck!”

“I know, baby, I know. I know. I know…” He chanted to you. His voice invaded your mind and the club fell away. It was just you and John in the blackness of your mind.

Under your hand, you felt his cock jump at you, leaping toward you out of the thick cloth that trapped it to his body. Then, you felt a wetness soaking through at his tip, and you rubbed it faster, encouraging him, hoping he would come with you. The wet spot grew, spanning out in a small puddle, staining the fabric darkly.

His teeth were on you then, holding you at your throat, not biting, but not letting go. His cries were a symphony of sound, and they made your entire nervous system light up. You felt incredible as you listened to him coming, ruining his jeans as you ruined them as well, making him look like he’d spilled a drink all over himself in very conspicuous spots.

As he came down, he was laughing, softly, chuckling from sheer disbelief. You’d wrung him out like a cloth, and the ragged sigh that came from his throat told you so.

He helped you off of his knee, careful not to hurt you. He fixed the edge of your dress so that it fell where it meant to, and then he looked down to survey the damage.

You didn’t like the sobering look on his face, and you’d do anything to keep him in your thrall. So, you grabbed his hand and led him out back to where your limo was parked. Pushing through the mass of writhing bodies just made you want to be closer to him.

You asked the driver to take you home, straddling John’s lap on the seat, eager for round two. You heard the privacy screen roll up and you smiled. You found your purse and pulled out your last two pills, sticking both of them in your mouth. Then, you leaned down to kiss him, feeding him one.

He swallowed it, to your surprise.

“I thought you’d protest about being on the clock, baby…” you started to unbutton his shirt, playing with his nipples when you found them, rubbing your fingers through his thick hair.

He kissed you again, a little more chastely this time, and peeked down at his watch,

“It’s 0300, ma’am. I’m a free man.”

“Turn the music up, then,” you said, kissing his neck as he used the remote to turn up the volume, letting your shared high carry you all the way home.

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Okay, listen. Just hear me out for a second, okay. Okay, look… lol 😂 I have been listening to Troye Sivan’s “Rush” all freaking season and every time I listen to it, all I can imagine is gruff, huffy, serious John Price on the dance floor with you as you slowly convince him to let loose and dance-fuck you. I will not be explaining myself further!!! It is burned into my mind. 😂 I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please. Sorry!!!