Y/N had been sipping on a lukewarm cup of instant coffee, half-watching Roach and Gaz argue over who was cheating in Go Fish, when Ronnan’s voice rang through the room.

Their ears perked up at the tone — drawn-out, dramatic, with a flair that screamed "I’ve arrived, adore me." They blinked once, then twice, and turned their head toward the new recruit.

Ronnan’s dramatic strut faltered as his eyes landed on Y/N. His whole vibe shifted — a weird mix of recognition, shock, and possibly... fear?

"You," Ronnan whispered, pointing slightly. "No way… You’re real?!"

Soap looked up from his knife debate with Ghost. “Oi, what’s this then? Y/N, you got a fanboy?”

Ghost didn’t look up, but muttered, “Bet it’s one of those ‘seen you in a dream’ situations. Weirdos love doing that.”

Alejandro leaned over to Roach and whispered, “Ten pesos says this one cries by dinner.”

Price sighed, already regretting his life choices. “Y/N, you two know each other?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, calmly setting the coffee down. “Not officially.”

“Ohhhh,” König said, looking over from the bean bag, eyes gleaming behind his mask. “That’s even worse.”

Ronnan, now nervously brushing imaginary lint from his sleeve, tried to regain composure. “W-well, I’ve… heard stories. You’re kind of a legend, Y/N. Field Marshal, mystery, cool vibes. I just didn’t think you’d be… lounging.”

Y/N gave a slow smirk. “I do my best work from a couch.”

Price clapped his hands together. “Right. Ronnan — King — your room’s down the hall. Next to Ghost’s.”

“Oh fantastic,” Ghost grumbled. “I always wanted a neighbor with a bedtime skincare routine.”

Ronnan scoffed but headed off. As soon as he was gone, Soap turned to Y/N with a grin.

“You got a secret admirer now, Marshal. Watch your six.”

Y/N shrugged, leaned back, and muttered, “Let them admire. Just don’t let them touch my snacks.”

Everyone chuckled. Ghost nodded approvingly. “That’s the real code of the force right there.”