Summary - Reader is a popstars in trouble and Ruben is her new bodyguard, here to protect and help her find out who wants to hurt her. But what happens when the relationship between Reader and Ruben simply gets too personal?

Enjoy!

You took a deep breath as the spotlight announced your presence on stage.

With graceful poise, you began to sing, pouring your heart and soul into the lyrics. The melody glided through the air, touching every heart in the audience. Your voice was pure and captivating, embodying the emotions you wished to convey. The crowd was mesmerized, hanging on every word, as tears filled their eyes and yours. Your voice resonated within their souls, embracing them with a bittersweet tenderness. Your love for your mother poured out through each verse, capturing the essence of your ache to be with her.

Be Mine, the song was called. A favorite from your new album.

As the final notes of the song hung in the air, a profound silence fell upon the audience. Then, from the depths of their souls, thunderous applause erupted throughout the salon. The audience was on their feet, their applause a testament to the emotions that your voice had stirred within them.

You covered your mouth with your hand, overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support. Tears of gratitude streamed down your cheeks as you returned backstage, meeting the applause of your sister and Tyson.

"Y/N, that was...." Your sister was lost for words, she was crying too.

"You were amazing baby." Tyson pulled you into a hug.

"Thank you." You sniffled. "My make up."

"The kit is in my purse." You sister said, rushing off.

"Here take this." Tyson offered you a stained cloth that had been hanging on a stool.

"It will make it worse." You said, fanning you face with your hands.

"Here."

Something flashed before your eyes, a pink handkerchief. Ruben had come to the rescue, handing you the handkerchief from the pocket in his jacket, the color matching your dress.

"Thank you." You sniffled, swiping the tears away.

Ruben didn't look as moved by your performance like everyone else, maybe he hadn't payed attention.

"I got it." Your sister returned with her purse clutched in her hands. She brought out your make up kit and started redoing you face. You still had to get through the night, with the charity dinner and all. You were exhausted once you returned home.

"Fuck." Tyson groaned as he let his orgasm flood inside you. He rolled onto his back, coming down from the high.

"Was it good for you babe?" His hand stretched to rub your stomach.

You hummed yourresponse, pulling the sheets to cover your naked body. Sex with Tyson was something. A part of you hated that he always seemed to be in a bit of a rush. You've always needed more time before you really got into it.

"I've missed this, I've missed you." He rolled onto his side to look at you.

"I've missed you too." You nodded.

You had known Tyson all your life. His dad had been a good friend of your dad and so you would spend many family vacations together. It had always seemed inevitable that you and Tyson would end up together, with your sister being a bit older than the two of you.

"Brussels is lonely without you." Tyson stroked your thigh over the sheets.

"Well I've always wanted go back and visit."

He nodded. "You should do that."

"Have you been to the house?"

"To see your mother, you mean?"

"Yes."

"Sure, I've stopped by."

"Really? How is she?"

"You know." He shrugged.

"Yes?"

"Well, you know..."

"Tyson."

"Okay, so I haven't gone over there in a while. But you know how your mother is, she doesn't want visitors."

"How do you know, you haven't gone over there to find out."

You crawled out of bed.

"Hey, let's not fight, not now."

You went over to your closet, grabbing a pair of socks and some new panties.

"Y/N, come back to bed."

"I have to pee." You muttered, grabbing your robe off the hanger.

You tip toed your way out of the bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom. Upon you return to the bedroom you noticed the light coming from the kitchen downstairs.

"Ruben?"

His body shook a little at the sound of your voice.

"Y/N?"

You descended the staircase, approaching him where he stood behind the kitchen island.

"What are you doing up?"

He raised a skeptical brow. "I could say the same thing about you?"

"I couldn't sleep." You shrugged.

He nodded. "Same."

"What are you making?" The smell flared your nostrils. A pot was boiling behind his back.

"It's soup. A Portuguese recipe."

You licked your lips. "Intresting."

The corner of Ruben's lips hooked into a smile. "Would you like to have some with me?"

"I mean...if you insist."

He went over to the cupboards, bringing out two bowls. One for you and one for...

"Oh my god, what happened to your hand?"

You noticed the bruises on his knuckles when he set down his own bowl. He pulled back his hand, hiding his wounds.

"It's nothing it's...I've been training." He grunted.

"Training for what, an MMA fight?"

You gestured to see for yourself, making him reach out his arm towards you. His bruises looked sore and...fresh.

"Ruben how...?"

"I have a punching bag in my room."

"A what now?"

"It's good relief of tension."

You let go of his hand. "Well, I wouldn't want to be the person who has caused you this much tension."

"You're not."

Silence fell.

You hadn't expected Ruben to reply to your remark, it was meant as a joke.

"Ruben, I didn't..."

He shook his head dismissively. "I'm sorry I...I didn't mean to..."

"It's okay." You nodded. Somthing really did have him rallied up. You wondered what it was.

"The soup is ready." He announced.

"Right, the soup."

For some reason you had lost your appetite. But as he topped up the bowl in front of you, you quickly changed your mind.

"Ruben this is so good, where did you learn how to cook like this?"

"My mother used to make it for me and my siblings when we were younger."

You didn't know Ruben had siblings. Who knows, maybe he had a whole family back home.

"It's delicious."

"Have some more."

He poured the last of it for you without giving you a chance to protest. It didn't matter really, you were ready to lick the bowl having emptying it.

"I've been meaning to ask you, Ruben..."

He finished the dishes, before pulling out a stool to sit across from you.

"Yes?"

His features looked so soft underneath the dimmed lights, the harshness of his usual expression softening a bit.

"I'm planning on visiting my mother in Belgium before the start of my world tour. My sister will probably come with me (god knew Tyson wouldn't) but where does that leave you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know the exact details of our contract but I assume it doesn't require..."

"I'll come with you." He said, short and clear.

"Oh, okay."

"Your trial period ends ahead of next month, that's when we will discuss further agreements, but for now I'll follow you wherever you choose the go."

"Wherever? Even China?"

"Why would you go to China?" He frowned.

"It's a nice place." You shrugged. "I've never been."

"If China is where you wish to go. I'll follow you there."

You smiled, a warm feeling spreading within.

"Do you have a family Ruben?" You asked after a time spent in silence.

"Yes, my mother and..."

"No, I meant like your own family, like wife and kids."

Ruben looked startled by the question.

"I know it's a bit inappropriate for me to ask. It just seemed like you would have..."

"I don't." He said, a flicker of sadness in his eyes.

Perhaps it didn't go with his lifestyle? Perhaps it wasn't possible for him to retain meaningful relationships at all. A great sacrifice, you thought.

"And you?" He asked.

"Me?"

"Do you wish to have a family someday, husband and kids?"

You nodded "Of course. But I don't think I'll be good at neither."

"No?"

"A wife is supposed to know how to cook, no? I don't think my husband will be happy living off of take out for the rest of his life. And my kids, I dunno, I've always been the youngest sibling, someone's always taken care of me. I doubt I'd be a good mother."

"I disagree." Ruben said, quite sternly.

Your conversation had entered strange waters, follwing a tied you had never explored before.

"You do?"

He cleared his throat. "I don't think you'd be a bad mother."

"No?"

"No, I see you. You care for people and that's good enough to be a mother and somebody's wife."

He said the last part with a clogged throat, still, the words caused the intended effects.

"Ruben I..." You felt overwhelmed with emotion. No one had ever spoken to you about these things, about life after your career. Ruben had allowed you to make more of yourself than you had ever dared to and for that you thanked him.

"I should probably..."

He stood.

You whined.

You didn't want the conversation to end, not now, not ever.

"Do you ever get scared of getting too close to someone?" You blurred out. "You know, to the point of worrying that you'll lose them?"

The question might have come out of the blue, but it had been one you had been carrying around for a lifetime and since Ruben seemed to have all the answers, you thought...

He looked at you skeptically, perhaps wondering what you were playing at with all these personal questions. Perhaps he feard that you would use them against him one day? Nevertheless his expression softened as he said,

"Yes. But for me it's too late."

"Oh."

He left it at that, biding you a goodnight, returning to his room, and you returned to yours.