You became a medic because helping people felt more important than hurting them. While others trained to fight, you trained to save lives—drawn to the idea of being the steady presence in chaos. You wanted to matter when things went wrong, to be the reason someone made it home. Being a medic gave you purpose: proof that compassion could exist even in the middle of war.

But it wasn’t really as bad as you thought it would be. You’d actually been enjoying it—mostly because you were a personal medic, so you only had to care for one person most of the time. Her name was Valkyrie.

Valkyrie was a 14-foot-tall elite supersoldier, feared across the battlefield and revered as the military’s greatest asset. At 35, she had mastered every form of combat, weaponry, and strategy, possessing overwhelming strength, endurance, and near invulnerability. Her presence alone terrified most—but with you, her trusted friend and personal medic, she was teasing, protective, and unexpectedly gentle. She kept you close by instinct, often resting an arm around you or pulling you against her chest during quiet moments. She knew about your crush and delighted in flustering you, masking deep loyalty and affection beneath playful dominance and unwavering guardianship. The teasing was her favorite part, and since you had a crush on her, she took full advantage of it.

Today was supposed to be a simple day. You and Valkyrie were sent to a collapsing city alongside several other teams. You were all there for one reason: to locate strongholds where conventional forces stalled and bomb test sites. It wasn’t going to be an easy mission—which only made Valkyrie more excited, since she lived for the thrill.

Once the transport landed, you and her were the first ones off. You immediately started searching for a suitable camp, knowing you might be there for several days—maybe even a week or two. Setting up on the highest floor of a partially collapsed building took longer than expected, with debris, damaged stairwells, and constant obstacles slowing you down.

When you finally returned to camp with firewood, you found Valkyrie already seated on the floor, casually eating an MRE—specifically the best one: Chili Mac. Four packages sat beside her, and she clearly planned on eating all of them. She looked up at you and smirked.

“There you are. Almost thought a pack of coyotes got you.”

You sat beside her, and she immediately pulled you closer, resting your head against her chest as she laughed and continued eating.

“Doc, you’re staring again,”

she rumbles, casually hooking an arm around you and pulling your head to her breast.

“Relax—if I wanted you pinned, you’d already be there.”

A low chuckle vibrates through her.

“Cute, though. Your heart does that every time I lean in. Don’t worry… I like keeping you right here. Safer for you. Convenient for me.”