#guards x reader

Walking a few steps behind the Frontman, peering through your silver mask and analysing the clipboard in your hands you updated your boss on the status of everything being prepared for the games.

Based on the grunts and scoffs he let out you crossed out and marked different items on the list. For a man of little words, he sure was good at communicating. After the large doors to the hall closed, you looked first to your boss then to the militia-like staff.

Handing over the checklist to the closest square, you nodded to your boss and turned to leave.

“Squares 1 through 16, Your men will be painting the halls. Squares 18 through 21, Your men will construct the bridge. Squares 22 and 23..." As you approached your office the front man's voice faded away.

There was a surprising amount of paper work for a company that strived to leave no traceable evidence, you supposed they needed to be completely aware of the crimes that the company had committed as to better cover their tracks. That being said, you would swear that the pile had grown since before breakfast.

So sitting down in your little office you pulled off your mask and began to sort through the first few files. After certain issues and unauthorised branches sprung up in the command structure of the previous year's games, you been given the tedious task of vetting all potential contestants.

The main rules were; no one with medical training, we cant have another spout of organ harvesting, no one with knowledge that could reduce or alter the difficulty of the games, aka no more glass guys, and so on and so forth for what seemed to be an unending and ever growing pile of filters.

You'd made it through half of the pile, removing a few of the contestants for their quote unquote leadership qualities, when an alarm chimed from your phone. Tugging forward the microphone you grabbed the notes from today's agenda, before crackling the speakers to life with the press of a button.

'It is now midday. Lunch will be available to grab under the sun for the next 90 minutes. Today's music choice is... mine and will be the entire Mamma Mia musical soundtrack followed by twenty minutes of me replaying my favourite songs.'

Pressing play on the album and turning off the microphone you opted to return to your work for the time being, only now there was the occasional humming along.

When a tapping came from your window you finally stopped, slipping your silvery mask back into place and tugging back the unnecessarily extravagant curtain you observed a single circle giving you a thumbs up.

Waving to him you stepped closer and peered to the side, down the hall stood a group grooving, and as you pressed your ear to the glass you could hear their voices singing along.

Sneaking your secure and very dumb brick of a phone out of your pocket you started to record, before noticing the circle was now waving for you to join them.

Deciding... screw it you leaned your phone against the sill and slipped out of the office to join the gaggle of guards. Only then did you notice just how loud the PA system was set to as the concrete under your feet vibrated with the music.

Dancing and singing along, the group seemed to grow as the album played on... until your boss' brash tone cracked over the system;

'Okay that's enough, go get your food.'

As you made your way to the front of the queue you met the eyes of the guard in front of you, almost missing the way his fingers left the previous pattern of distribution and instead reached for the very last one. Moving to take the egg from his hand, you were stopped as he closed your fist around the item and lightly caressed the back of your hand with his thumb.

Your jaw slacked as you turned and returned to your bed, and as you ate your mind refused to move away from the strange occurrence, no matter how desperately you attempted to prepare for the next game. Your focus was so wholly consumed that you missed the small roll of paper that had been painstakingly included inside your egg.

It wasn't even that they had been particularly harsh up until now, but it was something so out of the realm of what they had been doing.

Your mind reeling it was late into the night before you realised that you needed the lavatory, sadly the crazy lady had been trying that for ages to no avail. Attempting to add your voice to her pleads, you joined her at the door.

Within seconds the door had flung open and the two of you, plus the younger girl, were being led down the hall to the bathroom.

Being fast to do your business and leave, you awaited the others in the hall alongside the guard. Attempting to keep your distance and your eyes averted, the hand that encased your fingers with his own made you jump despite the gentile nature of the touch. He raised your hand and traced your knuckles with his thumb before lowering his head and gingerly pressing your knuckles to his mask.

Shifting his grip on your hand he squeezed it gently before pulling you down the hallway. You silently travelled behind him, finding yourself trusting him for no discernable reason, you only jumped when a door slid open to reveal a group of squares. Looking between the man leading you and your new company, the silence elicited goosebumps down your spine. They took their time addressing your companion before giving a curt nod, handing him a key and speaking;

"Room 056, for the time being, the cameras have been dealt with."

He expertly weaved throughout the identical corridors, the chill constantly running up and down your spine was combated by the warmth of his grip. A warmth that didn't leave even when we reached the door numbered 056 nor when he searched his pockets for the key and not even when he had opened the door and rushed you inside.

Upon the door closing, he motioned for you to be quiet, and as the seconds passed two gunshots were heard in the distance.

"So that they think you are dead and will update the system to not include you." He explained before moving towards the bed where he patted the space next to him.

Taking the seat, you noted how badly you were shaking and the shallowness of your breath. Placing your hands on your chest and attempting to calm your racing heart you missed the look of concern that flashed on the guard's face, not that you would have really seen it anyhow. Yet because of this, you were surprised when he laid back on the bed and pulled you to his chest, his gun long abandoned.

Walking a few steps behind the Frontman, peering through your silver mask and analysing the clipboard in your hands you updated your boss on the status of everything being prepared for the games. Based on the grunts and scoffs he let out you crossed out and marked different items on the list. For a man of little words, he sure was good at communicating. After the large doors to the hall closed, you looked first to your boss, then to the militia-like staff. "Squares 1 through 16, Your men will be painting the halls. Squares 18 through 21, Your men will construct the bridge. Squares 22 and 23 your men shall construct the robot. And Since Square 17 decided to fail us, my assistant shall be leading his group for the time being, that being said, his group shall be working in the kitchen going forward."

You had swiftly led the gaggle of men to the kitchen attempting to keep your mind away from holding their hands, feeling their warmth and holding it close.

Introducing the dishes that you will be cooking for the day ahead, you assigned the roles to the different masked men. It only took around twenty minutes before some of them asked for help kneading their dough. Standing between the two you gently grasped their wrists and guided them in small up and down motions. Too focused on helping them you missed the look they shared behind you. Once the men got themselves together they thanked you for the lesson and kindly sent you on your way. Walking around the room you checked on the various components before being stopped in your tracks by a guard and his ladle.

"Will you taste the curry sauce I made?"

"Alrig-"

"No please taste mine"

"No matter about the sauce try my bread"

"No no no try my tea"

You tried your hardest not to giggle at the plethora of ladles, cups and foods that crowded your face, but their pleads were just too cute.

All of them visibly deflated as the giggle passed through your lips moving to retract their hands as you scramble for an apology.

"no no no my darlings I would love to try all of them, your passion gives me such joy and the care you show in trying to feed me warms my heart. Your bickering is what makes me laugh."

They have been seeing you for years, for the three months prior to each game there you stood, whether you were bent over a table hair swept back as you studied design plans, a pencil tucked behind your ear or driving some sort of machinery to form mounds or pits, you were always there.

The guards favourite time of course was always towards the end of your stay (at least until today) when you would paint murals for all of the game rooms, and even if they weren't permitted to talk to you they could happily watch you work.

The issue with the order was of course that around three years ago you had forgotten some of your roller extensions and so large patches remained unpainted. Looking around yourself, attempting to find a solution without having to speak to the (honestly creepy) 'Frontman' you had spotted the stacked heads leaning into the doorway their eyes set on your frame.

Knowing the size of the venue you knew there had to be staff but you hadn't encountered any of them in all of your years there, you had always suspected that this had been organised for the owner's privacy and so that you knew only what you needed to.

That was the first time you had seen them, the masked minions, and to their dismay, it was the first time you had talked to them. Although they were around a hundred metres away from you when you had first spotted them their immediate skedaddling was for naught as you caught them with ease, you had just spent the last week painting every inch of that stair maze so you knew your way around.

After explaining your conundrum you were met with blank stares, or so you guess after all they still had their masks on.

One of the square-faced beings spoke after a long pause;

"We have been ordered to not interact with you,"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes "By who? The Frontman?"

Yet again you were met with silence, the only response being a spookily synchronised nod.

"Well, I was hired directly by his boss... and you all seem to have no other pressing duties so if anyone has any suggestions I would recommend you tell me immediately before I am forced to concern your boss with such petty matters."

The shape faced beings looked around at each other before drawing nearer, the squares seemingly leading the pack, but whether you were their prey or them yours was yet to be made clear.

Although the way they volunteered, or should I say begged, to hoist you atop their shoulders definitely screamed that you had them under your thumb.

The guards paid no mind to the screaming figure as they dragged her through the halls, easily overpowering her flailing. Continuing the showmanship they were known for they followed their manager to the centre of the common room before dropping the crazed woman.

"457 Will not be returning," The manager spoke as he retrieved the small blade from his pocket before tossing it beside the woman at his feet. "Feel free to ask her why."

Turning on the spot the trio stalked out of the space, smug smirks hidden beneath their masks as cacophony erupted behind them.

Approaching the door to the bathroom the manager instructed his soldiers to inform the Frontman of your death, while he saw to your wounds.

The silence that followed after the Crazy woman had been dragged from the bathroom left you with nothing but your thundering heartbeat and the blood that poured freely onto the tiles below.

Slumped against the back wall all of your attempts to slow the breathing were ceased by the slamming of the door and the unending stream of synchronised steps. Within seconds you were face to face with four managers, as the other managers and guards filled the space.

Glaring down the man closest to you, you refused to look away let alone close your eyes in fear. If they were going to kill you, they would watch as you didn't even flinch, eyes locked on their own as your soul followed your blood down the drain.

However the fear you refuse to acknowledge had a hand in your unwavering eye contact, terrified of seeing the gift box like coffin they had brought for you. Yet the gun, the bullet and the coffin never came, instead your eyes were drawn to the sets of hands gingerly wrapping the gash on your thigh.

Despite your efforts to push yourself as far into the wall as possible, you are brought into the chest of the man whose mesh cloaked eyes you had been glaring into so fiercely only moments ago. His strong yet gentle grip lifted you from the ground as the bandage was wrapped firmly around your leg.

Finally finding your voice you mutter into his chest, "What are you- Why are you doing this?"

"They all think you're dead, we don't want to see you hurt again." Pulling back slightly he continued, "Stay with us, let us look after you."

As your lips moved to form a rejection your eyes caught the doting movements of those around you, The cleaning and dressing of wounds as well as the food and water being passed through the crowd, and suddenly the only word you could form was the "Okay" you softly uttered into the pink fabric brushing against your cheek.

After a few more stinging moments as they cleaned your wounds, they produced a jumpsuit and mask. Gently helping you into the outfit their voices overlapped as they let you know what had to happen. You would have to stay in one of the rooms, the workers upstairs would assure that the cameras never watched it, but for the most part you would have to stay there, only seeing the guards once a day until the games were over.

You had plenty of time to ponder the reality that none of the pink cladded men had ever been aggressive or even mean towards you. This realisation had you taken aback, so when the time for dinner came around, you pulled the guard into the space. Tugging him to sit by your side on the bed, you cupped his masked face staring deeply into the perforations of the plastic.

"Why, Why did you all save me, what could I possibly have done to deserve your kindness?"

Flicking down his hood, he pulled the mask from his face before gently resting his forehead against your own, then in the softest murmur he answered;

"We all felt you were special from the moment we saw you in the first game, none of us could explain it, all we knew was that you were different."

Luckily enough however the next week flew by as your wounds healed, and soon enough almost as soon as the games finished you were ushered out of your room. As you were led through the almost abandoned halls, you noticed how the fear that the guards used to elicit up and down your spine was now entirely gone. You had had plenty of time to ponder your new reality, soon coming to the conclusion that the men around you were caring in a way you had never experienced.