⭐️

The first thing he noticed about you was that you never asked for anything.

Rides home after missions? Help carrying equipment? Never. Not even for something as simple as a charger when your laptop died halfway through a briefing.

You would rather spend three hours finding another solution than inconvenience someone for thirty seconds.

At first, he thought it was independence. You’re picky and liked to do things your own way. Then he realized it was something else.

Because every time somebody offered help, your shoulders tensed slightly.

Was it kindness that made you uncomfortable?

The second thing he noticed was that you never complained, which, in his opinion, was significantly worse.

The team often joked that you were part ghost. You spent most of your days tucked behind multiple monitors in the operations room, fingers flying across keyboards while surveillance footage, financial records, and security feeds reflected in your glasses.

You rarely spoke unless someone asked you a direct question. Even then, your answers were usually short.

Yes. No. Maybe. Okay.

Meanwhile, everyone else filled the silence for you. Especially him. Sometimes he wasn’t even sure why he kept talking to you.

Most of the time, you only responded with a nod. Occasionally, a hum.

Yet somehow, he kept finding reasons to stand beside your desk. One day he brought you coffee. Another day he started asking questions he already knew the answers to. He wanted to linger.

And every single time, you looked equally confused by it, which he found strangely adorable.

-

The mission had gone slightly off plan before noon. As discussed (or as he had strictly directed) you were supposed to stay inside the surveillance van.

Monitor cameras, track movement, feed information through the earpieces, and please stay safe.

Instead, the sound of shouting exploded through the comms, then gunfire, then silence.

You watched through a security camera feed as one of the team’s men got cornered in an alley with three attackers closing in.

Before anybody could stop you, you left the van.

Every few minutes previously, he checked in about your safety and location through the earpiece, to which you fed him your usual one-word responses.

“Yes.”

But by the nth time he checked in, he didn’t receive a reply from you. His anxiety immediately began to rise.

After making sure the rest of the team had the situation under control, he rushed back toward the area where the van was stationed.

By the time he arrived, two men were unconscious on the pavement, and a third was groaning beside a dumpster, while you stood nearby, breathing heavily.

You hadn’t even noticed he was standing behind you, stunned.

Instead, you were staring with disgust at the man sprawled on the ground who had tried choking you seconds earlier.

“Fucking asshole,” you muttered, wiping your bloodied knuckles against your jacket.

That was the first complete sentence he had ever heard from you, and to his surprise, it was a curse.

Surprise aside, he had been furious, because you had just thrown yourself into a fight you had no business being in.

When he looked at you afterward, he noticed something wasn’t right. Your movements were slower. But every time he asked if you were okay, you answered the same way.

“Yes.”

—

Three hours later, everyone returned to headquarters, and the mood was surprisingly good since the mission’s objective had been completed.

The rest of the team gathered together, debating what food and drinks to order, while you had silently removed yourself from the discussion and disappeared into the kitchen.

From the corner of the room, he watched you go, and something bothered him. Till he saw it.

A dark stain slowly spreading across the sleeve of your jacket. Blood.

His stomach dropped.

Without thinking, he excused himself from his conversation with the undercover policeman and followed you immediately.

You were reaching for a bottled drink when a hand suddenly wrapped around your wrist. The touch startled you, but before you could react, he was already pulling you down the hallway.

“Wha-”

“Come here.” His voice left absolutely no room for discussion.

You blinked in confusion as he guided you toward one of the spare bathrooms connected to his room, and the door shut behind you, then he finally turned around.

“What happened?”

You stared at him. “What?”

His jaw tightened. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend you don’t know.” Only then did his gaze drop toward your arm. You followed it.

The blood had soaked through the fabric completely now. “Oh.”

Oh. Like that was all it deserved.

His expression darkened immediately. “Take the jacket off.”

“It’s fine.”

“No.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“No.” The firmness in his voice surprised even you.

Slowly and reluctantly, you removed the jacket. The second it slid off your shoulder, both of you froze.

The cut running across your side was far deeper than either of you had expected, not life-threatening, but certainly not something a normal person would ignore for hours.

He stared at it. then stared at you, then back at the injury. “You’ve been walking around like this all afternoon?”

You shifted awkwardly, which was an enough answer.

Something hurt flashed across his face. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

You looked away. The question should have been easy. Instead, your throat tightened unexpectedly.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s not true.” He crouched in front of the first-aid cabinet and began gathering supplies.

Eventually, he asked again, softer this time. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

You swallowed, then told the truth. “I didn’t think anyone would want to.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and the room went completely silent. Immediately, you wished you could take them back.

When you finally looked at him, his expression had changed completely. He didn’t say anything for several seconds. Then, quietly, “Don’t say that.”

Your eyes dropped to the floor. His voice broke your heart a little. Not because it was loud, because it wasn’t. He sounded devastated instead, and it hurt you to think you had disappointed him.

The rest of the treatment happened in silence, surrounded only by warm hands, antiseptic, bandages, and his careful movements.

Every now and then, he would ask if something hurt, and you always answered no. Every time, he gave you a look that clearly said he didn’t believe you.

Eventually, the wound was cleaned and wrapped, yet neither of you moved.

“You know,” he said eventually, “you’re allowed to need people.” You stared at your hands and gave no response.

“You don’t have to do everything alone.”

Something inside your chest cracked, and your vision blurred unexpectedly. One tear slipped down your cheek before you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

You hated crying. Especially in front of people. And you certainly hated it more that you were crying in front of him now.

But suddenly, you felt so open, and so small.

You immediately tried turning away, but he noticed and gently repositioned you to face him again.

You tried covering your face, desperate to hide the embarrassment, and he quickly removed your hands.

Helpless, your head eventually dropped forward against his chest as you continued crying, and slowly, you wrapped your arms around him.

Your first hug. The first contact you had ever willingly initiated.

For a moment, he froze. He understood exactly how much it had cost you, and slowly and carefully, his arms came around you.

Neither of you spoke. Eventually, one of his hands came to rest on your head as he pulled you closer, giving you all the space you needed to let it out until your breathing finally steadied.

And for the first time in a very long time, you allowed yourself to stop carrying everything alone.

The black SUV behind you rammed into the side of the car hard enough to shake the entire vehicle.

“Left, LEFT-” Woo-jin shouted, gripping the handle above the door as Kim Gun-woo swerved violently through the narrow Seoul street, tires screeching against rain-slick pavement.

Gun-woo’s jaw tightened. “I know!”

Another gunshot shattered somewhere behind them. The rear windshield cracked instantly.

“Jesus Christ!” Woo-jin ducked.

The mission had collapsed twenty minutes ago.

What was supposed to be a clean intel pickup turned into a full pursuit after one of Baek Jeong’s men recognized you during the exchange. Now three SUVs chased your car through the city while bullets tore through signboards and alley walls behind you.

And somehow, Gun-woo was still driving frighteningly well. One hand gripped the steering wheel tightly while the other shifted gears sharply as he drifted around another corner. Streetlights flashed across his face in quick intervals, illuminating the focused tension sitting behind his eyes.

You steadied yourself from the backseat while loading another magazine into your sniper rifle.

“We need a cleaner angle,” you muttered.

“We need divine intervention,” Woo-jin corrected breathlessly.

Gun-woo glanced quickly toward the rearview mirror. “They’re getting closer.”

Another SUV appeared beside yours suddenly. It was too close, and one of the men leaned halfway out the window with a gun raised directly toward your car.

“Gun-woo,” you warned sharply.

“I see him.” Then the car drifted violently again.

The movement almost threw you sideways before instinct took over completely.

You climbed forward between the seats without thinking.

Woo-jin immediately reacted. “…Why are you moving like that?”

“I need a better shot.”

“There’s no spac-”

Then suddenly you were halfway over the center console, and directly on top of Gun-woo.

Everything froze for one catastrophic second. Especially Gun-woo.

Your knees planted on either side of his thighs while one hand braced against the seat behind him to steady yourself. Your chest pressed against his shoulder as you leaned across him toward the driver-side window, trying to position the rifle properly.

Gun-woo’s brain stopped functioning immediately because your body was suddenly everywhere.

Your hair brushing his neck. Your thigh against his lap. Your chest dangerously close to his face every time the car swerved.

And the worst part?

You smelled really good.

Woo-jin looked between both of you in disbelief.

“Oh my God.”

“Shut up,” Gun-woo muttered instantly, face burning.

“You’re BLUSHING? Right NOW?”

“I’m driving!”

“Your ears are red!” Another gunshot exploded beside the car.

You finally found your angle and leaned farther across Gun-woo’s lap, one hand gripping the roof handle while aiming through the shattered window.

“Keep the car steady.” you shouted orders at a very flustered Gun-woo, while he genuinely thought he might pass away.

Because steady? come on.

How was he supposed to keep anything steady right now?

Your stomach pressed against his shoulder every time he shifted gears, and the soft curve of your chest brushed his jaw during another sharp turn.

“If you want steadiness then remove your ass from his view! We’ll crash-“, Woo-jin complained worriedly, before another swerve got him silenced.

Meanwhile, you remained completely focused on shooting, a sniper by trade, and a menace by accident.

You fired once? The pursuing SUV swerved violently.

Twice? Its front tire exploded.

The vehicle spun hard across the road before crashing into a divider behind them.

Woo-jin screamed triumphantly. “LET’S GO!”

You smiled slightly while lowering the rifle, then finally noticed the silence beneath you.

Gun-woo had gone completely rigid as you looked down. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“…Gun-woo?”

“Please move.” he said immediately.

Woo-jin burst into laughter so violently he almost choked. “Oh this is unbelievable.”

“You’re heavy,” Gun-woo added quickly, clearly lying.

Your brows lifted. “You literally carry grown men for a living.”

“That’s different.”

“Why?” Gun-woo’s face somehow reddened more.

Woo-jin looked seconds away from tears. “You’re making him nervous.”

“I AM NOT NERVOUS.” Another drift sent your body against him again.

Gun-woo visibly short-circuited, and Woo-jin completely lost it.

—

By the time the team regrouped near the abandoned warehouse safepoint outside the city, everyone immediately surrounded the car checking for injuries.

Mr. Moon shouted something about the damaged doors while he inspected the bullet holes near the trunk.

Woo-jin exited the car first, still laughing, then Gun-woo stepped out next, expression unreadable. But you noticed immediately, especially because he suddenly refused to look directly at you.

Interesting.

“You okay?” you asked casually while slinging the sniper rifle over your shoulder.

Gun-woo nodded too quickly. “Fine.”

Woo-jin snorted loudly beside him, so Gun-woo elbowed him hard enough to almost send him into another car.

“Ow-“

“Shut up.”

Unfortunately for Gun-woo, Woo-jin noticed everything, including the fact that Gun-woo kept glancing toward your waist every few seconds before aggressively looking away again like he was fighting demons internally. It was the first time he sees his friend flustered.

And honestly? You found it adorable.

The next route discussion happened quickly afterward around the warehouse tables. The team needed to split vehicles again to avoid being tracked further through the city.

Woo-jin opened his mouth immediately. “I’ll go with Gun-woo—”

“No.” Everyone looked up.

Gun-woo cleared his throat awkwardly. “I mean… you should stay with Mr. Moon hyung.”

Woo-jin blinked slowly. “…Why?”

“You’re louder.”

“What does that even mean?” Gun-woo refused to elaborate.

Meanwhile you stood there pretending not to notice the fact that he was very obviously trying to get you alone, which got you smirking.

Man he was terrible at hiding it.

Eventually, the routes got finalized anyway: Two cars, split directions, and regroup later.

And exactly like Gun-woo wanted, you ended up alone with him in the final vehicle leaving the warehouse.

The second the last team car disappeared down the road, silence filled yours immediately. Rain tapped softly against the windshield while city lights streaked across the windows.

Gun-woo drove quietly at first while you leaned comfortably against the passenger seat, watching him from the corner of your eye.

“You survived earlier.”

“What?” Gun-woo frowned slightly.

“You almost had a heart attack while I was on top of you.”

His grip tightened around the steering wheel instantly. “So you did that on purpose?”

“I was trying to save our lives.”

“You could’ve warned me first.”

“Would you have said yes?” You smiled, then leaned towards him a bit teasingly.

“No.”

“Exactly.”

Gun-woo glanced at you briefly before looking back at the road. His ears were red again, and your chest tightened stupidly at the sight.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” you admitted softly.

The car nearly swerved. “I’m not flustered.”

“You almost stopped breathing.”

“You had a sniper rifle in my face!”

“And? forgetting something else?”

“And you were-” He stopped himself too late.

You tilted your head slightly. “I was what?”

Gun-woo stayed silent. You leaned closer slowly across the console, tilting your head even more against your rested palm, smirking now.

“What was I, Gun-woo?”

His jaw tightened. “You know.”

That answer sent heat straight into your stomach. The tension inside the car became unbearable after that, because now neither of you were joking anymore.

One glance at you and he decided he was done talking and bearing the teasing. He finally parked near an empty overlook outside the city, hands still gripping the steering wheel too tightly.

Rain continued softly outside while your shared breathing filled the car, as suddenly you climbed over the center console again.

This time intentionally.

Gun-woo looked up instantly, and whatever restraint remained between both of you finally snapped.

He grabbed your waist immediately, pulling you onto his lap while his mouth crashed against yours hard enough to steal the air from your lungs.

The kiss felt hot and messy from the beginning, as everything exploded at once inside the cramped car.

Your hands tangled into his black shirt while he pushed the driver’s seat all the way back roughly enough to shake the vehicle.

You absent mindedly threw the sniper rifle as it clattered against the passenger seat beside you, while you kissed him harder.

Gun-woo answered instantly, one large hand gripping your waist while the other slid into your hair carefully, almost reverently despite how rough his breathing had become.

“Please stop driving me insane,” he asked shakily against your mouth.

A laugh escaped you breathlessly. “All because I sat on your lap?”

“You know that’s not all you did.” Your stomach flipped violently.

The windows fogged slowly around you while rainwater streaked down the glass outside. Gun-woo kissed down your jaw afterward, slower now, deeper, like he finally let himself enjoy this instead of resisting it.

You shivered when his forehead rested briefly against yours. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmured quietly.

Instead, you pulled him back toward you by the collar, and that was it for him, as his kisses turned needier immediately.

His hands tightened against your thighs while your breathing became uneven against his neck. Every small sound you made seemed to affect him ten times harder.

Then suddenly, the positions shifted.

Within seconds, you found yourself pressed back against the driver’s seat instead, Gun-woo towering above you in the cramped space of the car. His chest rose heavily with every breath while his hands slid beneath your shirt, pushing the fabric upward slowly as his kisses trailed lower across your skin.

Your pulse nearly stopped.

Gun-woo’s hands moved over you carefully but possessively, like he still couldn’t believe he was finally allowed to touch you like this. His mouth brushed across your stomach before he crouched between your legs in the limited space left by the pushed-back seat.

Then he looked up at you, quietly asking for permission without words.

You didn’t even let him finish asking before helping him tug your jeans down desperately yourself, already too far gone to feel embarrassed anymore. The second the fabric disappeared, Gun-woo exhaled shakily beneath his breath like he was trying to control himself.

He hooked your legs carefully over his shoulders afterward, settling himself fully between them while his eyes stayed fixed on you the entire time.

And once he started, every coherent thought left your body instantly. Your head fell back hard against the seat while one of your hands searched blindly for something to hold onto, finally gripping the leather armrest beside you. Gun-woo noticed immediately and gently took your wrists instead, guiding your fingers into his soft hair.

“Here,” he murmured quietly against your skin.

The raspiness in his sound tipped it all. Because despite how intense he looked beneath you, despite the way he kissed and touched you like he had been starving for this for weeks, there was still something devastatingly soft about him.

And he was absolutely unbearable once he realized how sensitive you were for him. Every reaction pulled something cocky out of him.

His pace deepened whenever you gasped too loudly. His mouth lingered longer whenever your thighs trembled around his shoulders. And every time your fingers tugged helplessly at his hair, that stupid gorgeous smirk appeared briefly against your skin before he buried himself between your legs again like he wanted you completely ruined.

You were seeing stars.

The same man who got flustered because your chest brushed his face earlier was now looking up at you with dark, unwavering eye contact while completely undoing you beneath him.

And when he noticed you getting close, his restraint disappeared entirely, as his grip tightened against your thighs while his pace quickened just enough to send your breathing into chaos.

There he had you. On the exact same seat where you spent half the day teasing him.

Completely undone for him, by him.

The moment you finally fell apart beneath him, Gun-woo slowed immediately, breathing just as hard as you were by the time he lifted himself back up. His lips glistened faintly in the dim light.

And somehow, despite everything, he still looked shy underneath the confidence that had suddenly taken over him.

“Serves you right,” he muttered quietly, trying and failing to sound smug. You stared at him in disbelief.

He then pulled you back onto his lap again carefully, one arm wrapping securely around your waist while he rested back against the seat.

Something softer settled into his expression afterward as he looked at you. Maybe because seeing you like this affected him more than he expected.

The same woman who had been hanging halfway out of a moving car earlier shooting at armed men without hesitation was now melted against his chest, completely exhausted because of him alone.

Your forehead rested against his chest while both of you caught your breath slowly inside the dark car.

Outside, Seoul glowed faintly beneath the rain. Inside, Gun-woo looked at you like he still couldn’t believe you were real.

Then suddenly he restarted the engine. You blinked. “…That’s it?”

Gun-woo’s mouth twitched slightly, “We still have a mission.”

You groaned dramatically before trying to climb back into your seat, but Gun-woo stopped you immediately.

One arm wrapped securely around your waist instead. “Stay.”

Your brows lifted slightly “Gun-woo, you’re driving.”

“I know.”

“And I’m on top of you.”

“I know.”

“You complained for thirty minutes earlier.”

“That was before.” Heat rushed into your face instantly.

He adjusted one hand back onto the steering wheel before pulling onto the empty road again, keeping you sprawled comfortably against his lap while the city lights blurred around the car.

Cold wind drifted through the cracked window beside you, sending your hair flying softly across both your faces while music played quietly through the speakers.

Gun-woo rested his chin briefly against your shoulder at the next red light, and for the first time that entire night, neither of you said anything at all.

Rain hammered against the cabin windows that night, heavy enough to swallow the forest surrounding the safehouse whole.

Inside, however, the tension felt worse than the storm itself. The cabin arranged for the team sat hidden far outside Seoul after Baek Jeong’s men ambushed one of their routes earlier that evening. Everyone made it out alive, barely, but the attack confirmed something none of them wanted to admit aloud: Baek Jeong was getting closer.

Gun-woo had been unbearable about it the entire mission.

Not officially, though. Nobody told him to stay glued to your side; not Woo-jin, not Mr. Moon, and definitely not you. You were part of the team too. You could fight, you could shoot, and you had survived worse long before him.

But still, Gun-woo hovered around you like breathing depended on it. His hand constantly found the small of your back whenever crowds got too tight. He walked slightly ahead of you during routes, always checking corners first. Every time someone unfamiliar looked at you too long, his expression darkened almost immediately.

And you noticed every single thing. You found it adorable.

Earlier that afternoon, after he nearly shoved a man away for brushing too closely past you during the escape route, you finally laughed.

“Gun-woo,” you teased while jogging beside him through the rain-soaked alleyway, “are you my bodyguard now?”

Gun-woo didn’t even glance your way. “No.”

You smiled instantly. “Really? Because you almost killed that taxi driver with your eyes.”

“He was too close.”

“He bumped into me accidentally.”

“He still touched you.” The answer came out so quickly that even Gun-woo seemed caught off guard by himself, the tips of his ears reddening almost immediately.

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling harder. Because despite his broad shoulders, bruised knuckles, and terrifying punches, Gun-woo had always been disastrously transparent when it came to you.

Unfortunately for him, you noticed everything. Unfortunately for you, you were already completely in love with him. And that was becoming a serious problem.

-

The ambush happened less than an hour later. It was fast, violent, and chaotic.

One black SUV suddenly swerved across the road while headlights exploded through the rain from behind. Then came the shouting. Men flooding out from both sides. Gunshots. Pipes. Knives glinting beneath the streetlights.

Gun-woo shoved you behind him immediately while Woo-jin cursed somewhere nearby, throwing punches fast enough to crack teeth.

Everything blurred together afterward. Rainwater mixed with blood across the pavement while bodies collided violently beneath flickering streetlights. You barely had time to react before one of Baek Jeong’s men rushed toward you from the side, knife raised high.

But someone moved first, Min-jae. One of the newer men working with Mr. Moon’s team.

He threw himself directly between you and the blade without hesitation, the knife tearing across his side instead.

Your eyes widened instantly. “Min-jae!”

Gun-woo froze for half a second after hearing your voice, then he looked over and saw your hands grabbing Min-jae immediately, trying to steady him while blood soaked through his shirt. Even injured, Min-jae still positioned himself protectively in front of you.

And Gun-woo understood something ugly right then. As a man, he knew exactly why another man would move like that.

Nobody throws themselves in front of a knife unless feelings are involved.

Something twisted painfully inside his chest. Fear.

Because suddenly, Gun-woo realized someone else could protect you too, and he hated how much that thought suffocated him.

-

By the time everyone reached the cabin later that night, exhaustion hung heavily across every room.

Mr. Moon and Woo-jin discussed routes upstairs while Min-jae disinfected his injury near the fireplace downstairs. You stayed beside him helping quietly, handing over gauze and alcohol while checking whether the wound needed stitches.

Gun-woo sat farther across the room in complete silence, and Woo-jin noticed immediately.

“Oh no,” he muttered under his breath while watching Gun-woo stare toward the fireplace. “He’s jealous.”

Min Beom looked up briefly. “Who?”

Woo-jin pointed subtly toward Gun-woo.

Gun-woo looked seconds away from beating someone unconscious.

Unfortunately, every time Min-jae quietly asked if you were okay or thanked you for helping him, Gun-woo’s expression darkened further. Until eventually he stood up abruptly and disappeared into the kitchen without a word.

Woo-jin watched him leave before glancing toward you, then toward Min-jae, then back toward you again.

“Oh, this is bad.”

-

The kitchen remained dim except for the warm light above the stove. Gun-woo stood near the sink pretending to drink water while internally trying not to lose his mind.

You entered quietly a minute later.

He heard you immediately but refused to turn around.

“You’re being mean,” you said softly from the doorway.

Gun-woo tightened his grip around the glass. “I’m tired.”

“You almost ripped Woo-jin’s head off for asking where the medicine kit was.”

Silence filled the kitchen for a moment while rain battered against the windows.

Then finally: “You should stay near him then.”

Your brows pulled together immediately. “…What?”

“That guy.”

Gun-woo finally turned toward you, jaw tense. “He seems good at protecting you.”

There it was. Jealousy. Raw and impossible to hide anymore.

Your chest tightened so painfully you almost smiled by accident. Because this was Gun-woo. Sweet, painfully reserved Gun-woo who swallowed every feeling whole instead of speaking it aloud.

And now he looked genuinely wounded by you.

You stepped closer slowly. “You’re jealous.”

“I’m not.”

“You look miserable.”

“That’s your fault.” The answer slipped out before he could stop it, and your heart nearly exploded.

Gun-woo looked away immediately afterward, frustrated with himself.

“You scared me today,” he admitted quietly.

That changed everything, and your teasing softened instantly. “Gun-woo…”

“I didn’t like watching him touch you,” he continued, voice rougher now. “I didn’t like watching you look at him after he got hurt for you.”

Because beneath the jealousy, beneath the irritation and possessiveness, he sounded terrified. Like he genuinely thought he could lose you.

You reached for his hand carefully. Then, after seeing him welcome your touch without hesitation, your fingers slowly moved to the side of his face.

You fought the urge to smile from ear to ear.

And the moment his head leaned gently into your hand, something inside you gave out completely.

You pulled him toward you suddenly by the belt, and he immediately reciprocated, one of his hands gripping your waist while his mouth crashed against yours hard enough to steal your breath away.

The kiss felt desperate immediately. Like weeks of restraint finally collapsing all at once.

You couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

A soft gasp escaped you against his lips while your fingers tangled into the fabric of his fitted grey shirt. Gun-woo backed you slowly against the kitchen counter without breaking the kiss once.

“I .. hated it,” he admitted shakily between kisses. “I hated watching someone else protect you.”

Your chest ached painfully, as you cupped his face gently and whispered back, “I only wanted you. I’ve always only wanted you.”

Gun-woo froze completely at the reassurance. Then his forehead dropped against yours while his breathing turned uneven.

“You can’t say things like that,” he whispered.

“Why?”

“Because I already can’t think straight around you.”

Your stomach flipped violently at the confession before he kissed you again, slower and deeper this time.

One of his hands slid beneath your thigh before lifting you easily onto the counter, settling himself between your knees while your breathing completely fell apart.

The cabin remained awake outside the kitchen, only one wall separating you from the others. Voices echoed faintly through the hallway. Anybody could walk in.

That danger only made the tension worse.

Gun-woo pulled back briefly and stared softly into your eyes before gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Tell me to stop.” You shook your head immediately, and that nearly destroyed him.

His lips trailed slowly down your neck afterward while your fingers disappeared through his soft hair. Every breath against your skin made your chest tighten harder.

Then movement appeared near the kitchen entrance. Min-jae.

Stopping mid-step after realizing what he walked into.

Gun-woo noticed immediately, and instead of pulling away, something possessive darkened in his eyes.

His hand tightened slightly against your thigh before he deliberately pulled you closer against him again, his mouth brushing slowly against your throat while his gaze locked directly onto Min-jae’s stunned face.

Clear enough for any man to understand.

She’s with me.

Min-jae looked away first and mumbled an awkward apology before disappearing quickly back down the hallway.

Your face burned instantly as you gently pushed Gun-woo away after hearing Min-jae’s hurried footsteps disappear.

“Gun-woo!”

But he only buried his face quietly into your neck afterward, both hands spread against the counter around you, exhaustion finally replacing the adrenaline.

And when he spoke again, his voice sounded almost shy beneath everything else.

————————————————————————

Blood still stained the concrete by the time the police stormed in. The smell of sweat and rust clung heavily to the air while shouting echoed through the abandoned underground. Somewhere behind the officers, Woo-jin and Mr. Moon pushed through the chaos frantically, searching.

Searching for you. For Gun-woo.

The ropes around your wrists were finally cut by one of the policemen, but the moment freedom hit your body again, you stumbled forward immediately.

“Gun-woo-“ Your voice cracked violently.

He was still on the floor. Blood splattered across his body, his shoulder twisted unnaturally, bruises darkening across his ribs and sides. His chest rose faintly beneath the dim underground ring lights, but barely.

You had screamed yourself hoarse earlier begging him to stop fighting. To stop getting hit. To stop throwing himself back at Baek jeong over and over again.

But knowing Gun-woo, there had never been another outcome. Not when it came to you.

You collapsed beside him instantly, your shaking hands cradling his face carefully.

“Gun-woo… Gun-woo, wake up…please” No response.

Your fingers trembled through his damp hair before you pulled his head into your lap, tears falling uncontrollably onto his face as you hugged him tightly.

The entire weight of the world felt like it had collapsed directly onto your chest. And for one horrible second, you genuinely thought he died saving you.

—

The next morning smelled like antiseptic and exhaustion. Gun-woo woke slowly, pain spreading through his shoulder the moment he tried to move.

A quiet wince escaped him. Then he noticed you. Curled beside the hospital bed, still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, dried blood staining the fabric. One of your hands remained tangled tightly with his while your head rested next to both your joined hands at the edge of the mattress. You refused to leave him.

Even in sleep, your brows still looked tense. Gun-woo stared quietly for a long moment before gently brushing his fingers through your hair. The slight movement from him woke you almost instantly as your head shot upward.

The relief that crossed your face the moment you realized he was awake nearly broke him.

“Oh my God…” Your voice came out fragile and wrecked.

“Easy,” he murmured softly.

But the moment your eyes landed on the bruising across his body and the sling supporting his injured shoulder, your expression crumbled all over again.

“I’m so sorry my love… This is my fault,” you whispered shakily. “You got hurt because of me.”

Gun-woo frowned immediately. “No.”

“They used me to get to you-“

“And they would’ve found another way if it wasn’t you,” he cut in quietly. “Baek jeong was going to drag me there no matter what.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again, and Gun-woo hated seeing that. “He crossed a line,” he continued, voice rougher now. “Using you like that…”

His jaw tightened painfully. “I’d do it again.” You stared at him. “Over and over again.”

The room fell quiet afterward except for your quiet breathing. Then suddenly you broke completely.

Gun-woo barely had time to react before you buried yourself carefully against your still locked hands, sobbing quietly.

Despite the pain shooting through his body, he wrapped one arm around you immediately. And for the first time since the warehouse, Gun-woo cried too, and you felt every tremble in his breathing.

—

“I hate hospitals.”

Woo-jin looked up sharply from his chair across the room. “You literally just woke up.”

Gun-woo ignored him entirely. “They’re suffocating.”

“You got half your bones rearranged yesterday,” Woo-jin deadpanned.

“And your shoulder is severely strained,” you added instantly. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m fine.” Gun woo whined, earning a scoff from Woo-jin.

“You passed out.”

“I’m awake now.”

Woo-jin stared at him in disbelief. “This idiot…”

Eventually, after enough arguing and one exhausted doctor explaining that Gun-woo could leave under strict conditions, no excessive movement, proper rest, medication, and minimal strain on the shoulder, the decision was made.

Mostly because Gun-woo was impossibly stubborn. And because none of you could safely return home anymore nor stay publicly here.

Baek jeong and his men were still out there. And now they knew exactly how important you were to Gun-woo, which painted a target directly onto your back.

—

By evening, Woo-jin dropped both of you off at Min Beom’s hotel far from the city center and lurking eyes. Rain tapped softly against the windows while he stood outside the room awkwardly.

“I’ll be with Mr. Moon tonight looking through more intel,” he explained. “Call me if anything happens.”

Then his eyes narrowed toward Gun-woo , “And you, don’t move.” Gun-woo looked offended immediately as Woo-jin scoffed, “I’m serious.”

After enough reassurances from Gun-woo that he’d stay in bed and rest properly, Woo-jin finally left. The silence afterward felt strange and heavy.

You stood there for a moment before quietly deciding to shower. You felt disgusting. Your skin still smelled faintly like blood and dust and fear. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw Gun-woo getting hit helplessly in front of you again. The memory wouldn’t leave.

So beneath the hot water, you covered your mouth with your palm and cried silently all over again. You didn’t want him hearing you, you didn’t want him hurting himself trying to check on you.

By the time you finished showering, your eyes burned badly. You wrapped a towel around yourself before realizing with exhaustion that you forgot to bring fresh clothes into the bathroom.

Perfect.

After splashing cold water against your face repeatedly to reduce the puffiness and the redness around your eyes, you finally cracked the bathroom door open carefully.

The room was dim, only the television illuminated the darkness softly. Gun-woo rested against the bed’s headboard beneath half-drawn blankets, one extra pillow supporting his injured shoulder. His damp hair fell messily across his forehead while a random episode of Peaky Blinders played on screen. The blue TV light softened every sharp edge of him.

For a second, you just stared. He was alive. You stepped into the room quietly, and Gun-woo looked up immediately, lowering the volume once he noticed you.

“You okay baby?” he asked softly.

You nodded quickly before sitting at the edge of the bed with your back facing him “Mm.”

Your voice sounded hoarse. So instead of speaking more, you focused on rubbing cream gently over the bruises littering your legs from being dragged around by Baek jeong’s men.

Gun-woo watched silently. “Baby.”

The word came out quieter and gentler than usual. His hand rested lightly against your shoulder before slowly turning you toward him, and the moment your eyes met his again, your lips trembled.

The image of him lying unconscious on that warehouse floor hit you all over again. But Gun-woo looked just as wrecked, like he was barely holding himself together too.

So before either of you could say another word, he pulled you carefully into him and kissed you, softly at first, desperately after.

Tears slipped slowly down both your faces during the kiss, neither of you bothering to hide them anymore. Gun-woo pulled back only enough to wipe beneath your eyes carefully before pressing shaky kisses against your cheeks.

You cupped his face gently and kissed both his eyes, earning the smallest broken sound from him. Then he kissed you again, longer and needier this time, like he was trying to reassure himself you were really here. You survived, and he survived too.

The kiss gradually deepened, growing heavier with every shaky breath shared between you. Gun-woo carefully repositioned you until you were straddling his lap, his back still resting against the headboard while his good hand stayed firmly around your waist, almost afraid you’d disappear if he loosened his grip.

Then he pulled back for a second, just to look at you. The soft blue glow from the television illuminated your face gently, catching against your damp skin and swollen lips, and in that moment, Gun-woo genuinely thought you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He missed you so much it physically hurt him more than any punches he had received. Even after only almost losing you for one night.

His eyes searched yours carefully, silently asking for permission, for reassurance that you wanted this too. You nodded hazily, still dazed from his kisses, before pulling yourself back into him impatiently. That was all the confirmation he needed.

Gun-woo kissed you again immediately, deeper this time, desperate and hungry in a way that made your chest tighten.

Then reality hit you again. You pulled back slightly, your hand brushing carefully against his injured shoulder.

“But… you’re hurt-”

“I don’t care,” he cut you off instantly, voice low and wrecked with emotion before kissing you again like he couldn’t stand another second away from you.

Between messy kisses and uneven breathing, his lips slowly trailed from your mouth down your neck, leaving slow lingering kisses against your skin while your fingers disappeared softly through his damp hair.

Carefully, with your help, his white shirt and grey sweatpants were discarded somewhere onto the hotel floor, your towel following soon after, as the room grew warmer quickly.

He touched you like he was trying to memorize you, like reassurance, and like relief.

Soft sounds escaped both of you as his hand explored your body slowly, squeezing gently at your waist, your breast, your thighs, pulling quiet trembling breaths from your lips every time his fingers brushed somewhere sensitive.

The moment you finally sank fully against him, another broken moan escaped Gun-woo’s throat. His head fell back against the bed slightly, eyes squeezing shut as his breathing grew heavier. You immediately buried your face shyly into his neck, trying to swallow your moan yourself.

And despite everything, despite the bruises covering his body, despite the shoulder injury, despite the exhaustion still weighing down both of you, he still held you securely against him with one arm like it was instinct. Protecting you was built into him.

Your chest tightened painfully at the realization. He almost died for you yesterday, and somehow he was still here touching you this gently.

You began moving against him slowly, your pace messy and desperate from emotion more than confidence, and Gun-woo completely lost himself in it. One of his hands tangled tightly into your still damp hair while his forehead pressed against your shoulder.

“Baby…” he breathed shakily against your skin. The sound alone nearly sent you over the edge.

Your movements became quicker, more uneven, and when you bit softly against the side of his neck, Gun-woo suddenly froze beneath you with a broken gasp.

Then both of you collapsed into each other afterward, breathing hard as the tension finally shattered into something warm and overwhelming. For the first time in a while, neither of you were scared.

Gun-woo’s chest rose and fell heavily beneath you while your body remained sprawled softly against his. After a long moment, his hand began moving gently up and down your bare back soothingly. Then he pressed a tired kiss against your forehead.

“I love you,” he whispered quietly. Your eyes burned instantly again.

Gun-woo rested his forehead against yours, exhausted but sincere in a way that made your chest ache.

“And if anyone ever tries hurting you again…” His arm tightened around you slightly.

Gun-woo glanced back. “Feel what?”

“That horror movie feeling.” Woo-jin shuddered dramatically, earning an eye roll from Gun-woo.

“You watch too many movies.”

Woo-jin’s smile faded slightly as he muttered something under his breath while fake punching Gun-woo, before nudging the warehouse door open wider.

The mission itself was simple, or it was supposed to be.

Mr. Choi’s people had gotten word that one of Kim Myeong-gil’s remaining contacts was moving cash through abandoned shipping routes. It was meant to be a quick retrieval. In and out, that’s easy, which was exactly why Gun-woo didn’t trust it.

The warehouse was dark except for a single swinging light somewhere deeper inside, throwing weak shadows across stacked cargo containers.

Woo-jin clicked his tongue quietly. “This place smells like tetanus.”

Gun-woo didn’t answer. As he suggested they split up to stay on lookout, his attention shifted toward the second-floor walkway above them as Woo-jin left.

Something moved, fast.

Gun-woo barely turned before a figure dropped on him from the metal railing overhead, instinct exploding through him instantly. He caught the incoming strike with his forearm, pain shooting sharply through the bone as boots hit the concrete hard.

Nothing could properly be seen from the figure. Black clothing, gloves, face hidden beneath a mask.

Not one of us. Woo-jin and he were alone on this mission.

The stranger moved again immediately, fast enough to irritate him.

Gun-woo rolled on the floor and blocked another hit before driving forward, forcing the figure back against a container with enough force to rattle the metal walls. The stranger winced briefly in pain, the soft sound startling Gun-woo. He was quick enough to tug the mask down slightly before they twisted out of his grip at the last second with frustrating precision.

That’s… a woman? Gun-woo stared for half a second too long, stunned.

This wasn’t regular street fighting. She was trained.

Woo-jin swore as he appeared somewhere behind him as more men flooded the warehouse floor.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this, man,” Woo-jin muttered frantically and out of breath while scanning the floor Gun-woo was in, before finally spotting Gun-woo wrestling with the stranger. “What the…”

Gunfire erupted.

Gun-woo barely had time to react before the masked stranger grabbed his sleeve suddenly and shoved him sideways.

A bullet tore through the exact space where his head had been.

Gun-woo stared, and the stranger stared back for half a second too long at him and what could’ve happened.

Their eyes met. Cold. Sharp. Controlled. Not panicked.

Obnoxious laughter echoed across the warehouse as armed men flooded the floor where the three now stood. Pipes and metal bats dragged noisily against concrete, their movements confident, almost entertained, as they eyed them like prey waiting to be torn apart.

The stranger moved first again, wrenching a knife from her side holster and driving it toward one of the approaching men efficiently and brutally.

She’s against them too? Confusion flickered across Gun-woo’s expression before he snapped back to reality and joined Woo-jin and the stranger against the men.

Gun-woo caught another attacker by the collar and slammed him down hard before looking back toward the stranger again, but she was gone. Only the faint echo of metal footsteps retreating from the floor above remained.

Gun-woo’s eyes instinctively flickered upward toward the second-floor walkway just in time to catch a glimpse of a long black case disappearing behind the swinging shadows. Too slim to be a regular duffel, and too structured to be ordinary. Then the stranger vanished entirely.

“Gun-woo! Careful!” Woo-jin’s voice snapped him back into motion as two more men rushed them.

The fight blurred after that. Fists, gunshots, metal, breathing.

By the time police sirens began echoing somewhere in the distance, the warehouse was almost empty.

Only a few groaning and swaying bodies remained scattered across the floor.

[Time Skip]

Three days passed, yet Gun-woo found himself thinking about the stranger often.

Who was she? What was she doing there? And if she fought against Myeong-gil’s men too… what exactly was her objective?

Which annoyed him more than he wanted to admit. Still, he told nobody about her. Not even Woo-jin. If she turned out to be another problem, the last thing he wanted was dragging everyone deeper into danger.

He just wanted them safe.

“Wah… this lovely wall you’re staring at again.” Woo-jin spoke around a mouthful of ramen, trying to understand what was so fascinating about the blank stone wall Gun-woo had been staring at for the past ten minutes.

Gun-woo shifted his glance toward him just in time to see Woo-jin chewing with his mouth open. “I’m eating.”

“For God’s sake, please don’t chew and talk at the same time, Woo-jin. I can literally see everything mixing around in your mouth.”

Gun-woo found himself smiling despite it, appreciating Woo-jin’s random stupidity more than he’d ever admit aloud.

Woo-jin ignored him entirely.

Later that evening, the basement of Mr. Choi’s house was unusually busy. Papers scattered across tables. Phones ringing endlessly. Half-finished conversations overlapping each other. The entire team had gathered, and it seemed something big was happening.

Amid the noise, Gun-woo tried piecing together what exactly was going on while the team’s elders, Hwang Yang-jung and Lee Doo-young, reminisced about old days with Mr. Choi. Old members, people who disappeared, those who escaped, those who managed to build families and lives away from all this violence.

Then Mr. Choi mentioned a name, and suddenly the room went quiet as immense nostalgia dominated the atmosphere almost instantly.

As if summoned by the silence itself, the face for that name stepped into the room moments later.

Mr. Choi smiled faintly from near the doorway. “Perfect timing.”

Everyone stood immediately, much to Gun-woo’s annoyance as they blocked his view entirely. Between the shocked greetings and rushed embraces, he finally managed to catch a glimpse.

Your black coat was still damp from the rain. Your expression looked warm, but exhausted underneath it. One hand rested lazily inside your pocket, like you already looked bored of being here.

Then your eyes landed on a raven-haired man standing farther in the back. And you froze slightly.

The guy from the warehouse?

Your gaze met his immediately, and recognition flashed there for one dangerous second before disappearing just as quickly.

That’s interesting…. Very interesting.

The long-haired man beside him, the loud one you also recognized from the warehouse, gave you a warm smile and a nod.

Mr. Choi gestured toward you proudly. “This is Écho.”

Woo-jin blinked dumbfoundedly. “Like… the sound thing?”

You looked at him blankly. “…Thank you for your contribution.”

“Woo-jin! Nice to meet you-“ He rushed to shake your hand once gaining your attention, but after realizing you weren’t reciprocating, he awkwardly crossed his arms in front of himself and gave a small bow instead before retreating beside Gun-woo. The room laughed at the encounter, but Gun-woo didn’t like that at all.

So, to compensate for you embarrassing his friend, he didn’t bother approaching to greet you either. Instead, he simply stared from afar, while trying to understand why the hell Mr. Choi recruited you, and why you were this rude.

Mr. Choi continued speaking. “She’ll be assisting us on a temporary operation.”

“Assisting?” Gun-woo repeated before he could stop himself, disdain slipping clearly into his tone.

Your eyes shifted toward him lazily. He looked cuter when he was mute.

“Hello, buff guy,” you directed at him smoothly, trying to suppress the irritation bubbling beneath your amusement. “Are you usually this welcoming, or am I getting special treatment?”

Woo-jin physically bit down on his lip to stop himself from laughing.

Gun-woo crossed his arms slowly, his stare still as sharp and unfriendly as ever, but before he could answer, Mr. Choi stepped in quickly to swallow the building tension.

“She has experience overseas,” he interrupted smoothly. “Forensics. Tactical surveillance. Long-range specialization.”

Woo-jin blinked, confused. “Long-range…?”

“She’s a sniper,” Gun-woo answered him flatly.

Woo-jin nodded in understanding. Then immediately looked confused again. He had an unbelievably expressive face.

Your gaze snapped toward the raven-haired man fully.

Did he recognize me too?

Gun-woo’s stare remained sharp and steady. He understood immediately.

Ahh so he DID recognize me…

“Smart,” you murmured, entertained now, and Gun-woo disliked how much that sounded like approval.

Woo-jin slowly looked toward the ceiling. “Oh, this is gonna be entertaining.”

next chapter

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hi guys! ♡

this will be a fanfic with continuous chapters, and i’ll try uploading around 2–3 times per week depending on my schedule <3

as you can probably already tell, this story will be heavily action/thriller based with a slow burn romance, angst, tension, emotional trauma, humor, yearning, and all your favorite tropes mixed together. some plot points and characters from Bloodhounds will stay true to the original drama, while others may be altered or expanded for the sake of the story, so expect a mix of canon and originality throughout the fic!

also a small warning moving forward: this story will eventually contain mature themes including violence, psychological themes, and explicit sexual content later on, so if that is not something you’re comfortable reading, please skip accordingly.