#COP!AU
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Change of Plan AU: Anniversary (Part 1)
I finally got to post a content from one of my AUs after almost a month sobs
(Portal Bill is always overshadowed by Teen Bill lol)
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Basic Training (Peter Parker x Reader)
Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, minor character deaths, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @whimsicalrogers
➥ series masterlist
summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.
~
You browsed the shelves with a deep frown, the sounds of your friends’ laughter in your ears as they searched for their favorite snacks too. You guys were halfway to Florida, the excitement in the air contagious as you embarked on the road trip that had been in the works for almost a year. You could hear Wanda telling you to hurry up, something about making the process rocket science.
“Sorry,” you dragged out, joining her at the counter. “…but I think what snacks you choose for an hours long car ride is pretty important.”
“We’re literally going to eat right after this,” a familiar voice said from over your shoulder as MJ pulled up beside you. “…and shopping too.”
She grumbled that last part, and Wanda chuckled.
“The whole point of this trip is to have fun,” the redhead reminded her.
“In some small rinky dink backwoods town?” Michelle murmured. “They don’t even have a mall.”
The man working the counter gave her a look at that, and you nudged her with a look of your own. You definitely had similar thoughts of your own when Pietro stopped here, Wanda’s brother voicing his desire for something to eat. It certainly wouldn’t be your first choice, but it had its charm you could admit. Everyone seemed nice so far, and you were quick to scold Michelle when you made your way out of the gas station.
“Don’t be so snobby,” you told her. “Besides, we’ll be leaving in a few hours anyway.”
“Finally,” you heard Pietro groan as the three of you approached the car. “I was about to leave you.”
Wanda lightly pushed his head as she slid into the passenger seat, you and Michelle settling into the back. Driving from Maine to Washington to Florida sounded like an insane thing to do when it was first suggested, but the more you and Wanda had laughed about it, the less funny it became. Michelle pretended to need her arm twisted into going, but it was obvious that she was into it. Once Pietro offered to be the main driver, the plans were set.
“I was googling restaurants here while you three were taking your sweet time,” he said, pulling onto the road.
You watched Wanda snatch his phone, scrolling through what he’d pulled up.
“We should see the Statue of Athena when we get to Tennessee,” Michelle suggested, looking out of the window.
Pietro mumbled something unintelligible, but Wanda voiced her agreement. You were mostly quiet on the way to the restaurant, but it wasn’t a long drive. Michelle was right when she said the town was small, and the restaurant that was decided on took no time to get to.
It was a quaint place, nothing too extraordinary or even huge. There weren’t many cars in the parking lot, and the only notable vehicles were two police cars near the building. Wanda and Pietro were going back and forth about what the restaurant may or may not serve while Michelle slid some shades onto her eyes to block out the sun.
There was a bell above the door that rang when it opened, and you looked around the establishment as Wanda talked to one of the waitresses. As the woman led the four of you to a table, your gaze passed over four cops seated in the corner of the restaurant. You didn’t know if they were on break or officially done for the day, but if their table was anything to go by, they’d been eating here for a while.
When the waitress came back with menus and glasses of water, you asked her if there was a bathroom.
“Oh, sure, honey,” she sweetly told you, pointing towards a hallway over her shoulder. “Just through there.”
“Why didn’t you go at the gas station?” Wanda wondered as you stood.
“…because it was probably ten times more disgusting than this one could be.”
You told Michelle what you wanted to order just in case you weren’t back by the time the waitress returned to get orders. You hurried into the hallway, finding the bathroom with ease. There was only one, and you were relieved when your knock on the door was met with silence. Like you predicted, this bathroom was cleaner than you expected the one at the gas station to be.
You’d drank a lot of water since the last stop, and you didn’t even try to hold in your sigh of relief as you peed. Just as you were pulling your pants up, you heard a knock on the door, and you hurried to button them and wash your hands.
“I’ll be out in a second,” you called.
With one last look in the mirror, noting that car ride sleep was doing more wonders than sleeping in your own bed, you opened the door.
You were startled by the sight of one of the cops you’d seen earlier. You blinked at the sight of him, noting how boyish he looked up close. He seemed just as taken aback by you, although why, you didn’t know. You had the stray thought of wondering if he was even old enough to be a cop, and you shook it away. You knew guys from back who started making moves to be one the second they turned eighteen.
“Sorry,” you apologized for almost running into him. “It’s all yours.”
You sent him a polite smile, the smile dropping some when he didn’t really…move. A few seconds passed of him just looking at you, and after some time, he finally blinked himself, shaking his head. You noticed some strands of his dark hair move with the action.
“Sorry.”
Now, it was his turn to apologize.
“I shouldn’t have been standing that close,” he said, finally moving out of your way so you could walk out. “Enjoy your food.”
You sent him another polite smile at that, returning to the table. Pietro told you that they’d ordered when you sat back down, Michelle confirming that she’d ordered for you. When you made yourself comfortable in your seat, you glanced around again, your gaze catching an unfamiliar blue one. It was one of the cops at the table, a blond man with an intimidating build, and you quickly looked away.
“I kind of don’t want to skip North Carolina,” Wanda said, and both MJ and Pietro sighed.
You chuckled, already knowing why she wanted to go there.
“Outer Banks is just so far out of the way, Wanda,” you told her.
“Yes, but it’s a road trip,” she quietly whined. “The whole point is to see things and have fun. Besides, it’s not like we have a set date on when this is supposed to come to an end. It can end whenever we want, right?”
None of you had an argument for that, and she smiled, almost triumphantly.
“Okay, don’t get ahead of yourself. We all still have to agree,” Michelle said, but she couldn’t fight back her small smile.
“…but I’m driving,” the only man of the bunch spoke up, and Wanda flicked his arm.
“There are three of us and one of you. Hush before we put you in the trunk,” Wanda teased.
The waitress brought your food over before another word could get in, and you glanced up to thank her. As you did, your eyes passed over that same cop from earlier, the one you’d ran into outside of the bathroom. Your gazes briefly connected, and you had an odd reaction to it, a shudder traveling down your spine.
You frowned a bit as you gave your attention to your food. It wasn’t that weird, you guessed. It was a small restaurant after all, and aside from them and your friends, there were only about three other people in the building. It was probably your own bias to be honest. Men in positions of authority never bode well with you, and policemen were at the top of the list for a multitude of reasons.
You guys discussed the rest of your trip over your lunch, making a list of things you wanted to see. Pietro huffed at every third suggestion. When there came a point where you could feel yourself getting full, you peered around for the waitress. With no sign of her, you decided to just go to the counter and ask for some takeout boxes. What you presumed was the owner nodded at you.
“Yeah, give me one moment…”
When he walked away, you pulled out your phone to see if there actually was any place decent in town to shop at. Worst case scenario, you guys would wind up at a Walmart or something. Google was just pulling up some results when you felt a shift in the air, a shift at your side. You glanced over and was shocked to see that same cop from before next to you.
You didn’t acknowledge it outside of that, facing forward again just as he spoke.
“Hey, Nick! Bring some out for us too,” he called.
Your attention was drawn to your fingers on the counter, tapping them and drawing circles into the wood. You could feel the heat of a gaze on your face, and you thought that maybe you were imagining it until the man next to you spoke up.
“Are you and your friends new in town?”
You were startled by the question, by the act of him talking to you, and you looked at him just as he spoke again.
“…or just passing through?”
There was a small smile on his lips as he said that, the corners curving upwards ever so slightly.
“Just passing through,” you finally answered. “Road trip.”
He hummed with a nod, gaze passing over you.
“My buddies and I went on a small road trip a few years back. It was pretty fun.”
You gave a tight lipped chuckle at that, looking towards the kitchen and wondering what was taking the owner so long. You both felt and heard the cop move closer, and you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye just as he spoke again.
“Our town isn’t much, but there’s a few nice shops and boutiques around here,” he said, making you look at him in wonder.
“Oh?’
“Yeah,” he said, pulling out a pen and paper. “I’d hate for you to leave here with a bad impression.”
He chuckled, and you eventually joined in.
“We need you to come back. How else will we make any money?”
“Right,” you lightly said with a smile.
You took the list from him with a thanks, and he held it for a few seconds longer than necessary before finally letting go. You folded it up as he introduced himself.
“Peter,” he said, holding out his hand.
You hesitated, eyeing the appendage for some reason.
Peter seemed nice enough, maybe overly so, but again. That was probably just your own bias. Besides, even if he was a little strange to you, you would never see him again. You guys would be leaving in a few hours and heading further south. On the off chance that you did ever come back to visit, the chances of running into this same cop were low.
You gently shook his hand, introducing yourself too.
The owner finally returned then, bringing a bunch of carryout boxes with extra to keep at the counter. You took a few, thanking him and leaving the man Peter without another word. Your friends were in a discussion about Pietro’s ex-girlfriend when you returned. You told them about a list of shops in town as they packed up their food.
“That cop told me,” you told Wanda once she asked, walking outside. “The youngest one.”
You didn’t think of him again once you were in the car and driving down the street. Wanda was happy with the suggestions, finding at least two things at every shop. You and Michelle stopped for ice cream while Wanda went into some mom-and-pop pharmacy. Pietro was by the car and on his phone. While Michelle complimented the chocolate mint she got, you glanced up and caught sight of a cop car slowly passing by.
You only gave it a second glance when you recognized the cop in the passenger seat as the same blond from the restaurant. You frowned a bit, Michelle’s words fading to the background. You reminded yourself that it was a small town, and while the police department back home had hundreds of cops, the one here maybe had a total of fifteen. It was probably normal here to see the same cop several times in the same day.
You and Michelle met Wanda back in the car, Pietro telling you guys to get a move on. You were texting your mom, telling her you guys were on the road again as Pietro started the car. You loved her, but she worried too much, and while you didn’t mind placating her and keeping her up to date on where you were, it still made you roll your eyes.
After eating and walking around for a bit, you could feel yourself getting sleepy. It was to be expected. All of that combined with the smooth drive was really doing you in. Wanda and Michelle’s conversation became nothing more than a soft hum, and you were drifting more and more, but you knew Pietro hadn’t been driving long when you felt him starting to slow down.
You didn’t think a thing of it at first, not until you heard him curse anyway.
“What’s wrong?” Michelle wondered.
“The engine is cutting out,” you heard him say. “There’s…the gas. It’s gone.”
You opened your eyes at that, peeling them open just as the car came to a complete stop on the side of the road. You blinked, rubbing them and sitting up.
“What?” you heard Wanda say.
“Didn’t you just get gas?” you wondered.
“Yeah,” Pietro scoffed. “What the hell…?”
He tried to start the car a few more times with no luck, and only then was that when you started to get worried. When the twins got out of the car, you followed with a frown. Michelle poked her head out of the window as Pietro popped the hood.
“We had a full tank and then suddenly it just dropped,” he said from under the hood. “It has to be the fuel line…”
Wanda leaned against the car, and you pulled out your phone. You started texting your mom, and after a while of it not going through, you realized you must be on a bad stretch of road. You were holding your phone high as Pietro tried to figure out what was going on with the car. Wanda was trying to make a call too, and you’d just dropped your arm in frustration when the sound of a car reached your ears.
“Someone’s coming. Maybe we can get them to call someone or bring us some gas,” you suggested.
As the car appeared at the top of the hill, you realized it was a cop car. You weren’t sure if you should feel relieved about that, and you sank your teeth into your lip. Without even needing to flag them down, it started to slow, and you moved closer to the rental as it stopped right behind it.
You didn’t really know how to feel when a familiar face rose out of the passenger seat.
It was the same cop from the restaurant.
Peter.
The one who rose out of the driver’s seat was at the restaurant too. You remembered him, skin dark and hair cut low, and you wrung your hands together, frown deepening. You wondered how many coincidences became weird, became something that was no longer a coincidence.
“Hey,” Peter waved to you, that friendly smile on his pink lips.
You could feel your friends’ eyes on you, and you sent the cop a tight smile.
“Hi,” you nervously breathed.
“Car trouble?” he wondered, moving closer.
His partner lingered by the cop car…watching. You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling weird all of a sudden, and you glanced over your shoulder. Pietro was peering from around the hood, and Michelle had gotten out of the car, now.
“Yeah,” you finally answered. “We think it’s the engine or…something. One minute we had a near full tank of gas and then nothing.”
You shrugged as he neared the front of the car, peering under the hood. You glanced back at the other cop nervously, unable to help feeling like something was off. Peter didn’t remain under the hood for long, straightening and sending a nod to his partner. You heard the other man speak into his radio, and Wanda spoke up.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re just going to give you guys a ride back to town,” Peter said, and that didn’t relieve you.
“What about the car?” Michelle wondered.
“We’ll get someone to come and get and take it to a shop,” the other cop finally spoke up.
All four of you looked at each other. You still didn’t know what exactly was wrong with it, so it made sense to have it looked at, but this was definitely putting a dent in your plans. Not to mention how off this all still felt to you.
“There’s four of us,” you commented. “Honestly, if you could just call for a tow…”
“Well, that’s why I called for backup. That way we can give everyone a ride,” the other cop replied.
You looked to your friends, trying to gage how they felt about this. This just didn’t feel right to you, but you guys were stuck practically in the middle of nowhere with no gas and a faulty car with unknown reasons as to why. You didn’t want to be the one to disagree if everyone else was okay with it, but Wanda spoke before you could.
“Actually, I think we’ll just keep trying to call a tow.”
You could see another cop car coming over the hill, now, and you moved closer to Michelle. Peter, the only cop whose name you knew, was near you again, and he sent you what was meant to be a comforting smile, you were sure.
“It’s no trouble. Just let us drive you back to town and-.”
“Thanks, but we’re just going to decline,” you told him. “That’s nice of you though…”
You made to get back in the car when Peter stopped you. You were startled by the feel of his hand on your wrist, looking at him with wide eyes, and Pietro’s voice reached your ears.
“Hey,” he called, nearing you both. “We appreciate the offer, but we’d rather just call a tow truck, alright?”
He grabbed Peter’s arm, the action drawing his attention to Pietro, and you used the opportunity to stumble away. Peter looked at your friend with a gaze in his eye you couldn’t name, but it unnerved you, cementing that odd feeling you’d felt since they’d arrived. Peter didn’t look so boyish, now, so…nice. His dark eyes studied Pietro’s hand on him, and the other cop car had slowed to a stop, now.
“I could arrest you on assaulting an officer,” he quietly said, and your heart skipped a beat.
“You grabbed our friend first,” Michelle argued, the concern that you’d been feeling all along now reflected on her face.
“Pietro,” you said, reaching for him and trying to get him to back up.
He did, but you had a feeling that the offense was already done.
“He shouldn’t touch you like that,” he spat, and Wanda was now standing with you three.
You didn’t like the way Peter was looking at Wanda’s brother, and you looked over as the other officers got out of their car too. Your lips parted, chest clenching painfully as your eyes landed on that same blond-haired, blue-eyed cop from the restaurant. The brunette at his side had been there too, and you sharply inhaled.
Something was very wrong.
The blond was quickly approaching, speaking to Peter as if the four of you weren’t even there.
“What’s the problem?”
Peter spoke before any of you could.
“Car trouble. We tried to offer them a ride back to town, but their friend here thought it was okay to assault an officer.”
The way Peter spoke to the blond, it made it clear who was the higher up of the two, and you scoffed at the words leaving his mouth.
“That’s not true. You grabbed her and Pietro-.”
“Pietro, is it?” the blond cut Wanda off, approaching her brother. “You have the right to remain silent...”
“Wait,” Wanda cried. “This is insane, he barely touched him. Your buddy-.”
“Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney.”
You blinked in disbelief, unable to understand how some simple car trouble had escalated into Pietro getting arrested. While Wanda was trying to argue with the cop currently putting Pietro in handcuffs, you didn’t notice Peter moving closer to you until his hand was on your arm.
“We’ll drive the rest of you back to town…”
“No!” you pulled against his hand, shocked when he didn’t let go. “I don’t want to go anywhere. You can’t arrest him, he didn’t do anything!”
Panic filled you when Peter appeared to be stronger than he looked, practically dragging you away, and Michelle called out. It had gotten Wanda’s attention too, and they both ran over.
“Let go of her,” Michelle cried.
In all the commotion, you didn’t realize the other two cops had come over too. There was too much going on, and in the chaos, you found yourself tripping over your feet and out of Peter’s grip. Your chin knocked against the pavement, and you winced. You pushed yourself to your hands and knees, glancing up just in time to see that blond cop reach for his gun.
Your lips parted at the sight of Pietro pushing against him, unaware of what was about to happen.
You screamed his name just as the sound of the gunshot rang through the air, and you felt your skin grow cold at the sight of your best friend’s brother going…limp. Blood had never bothered you before, but in this context, it was the worst thing you’d ever seen. Wanda’s scream brought tears to your eyes, and you heard Peter curse.
“What the hell, Steve?” one of the other cops said, and their cavalier attitude about it had you stumbling to your feet.
The blond cop, Steve, finally spoke up.
“It was going to happen now or later, right?”
You looked at him, horrified, and you mindlessly reached for Michelle’s hand, but she batted it away. You looked at her, meeting her dark eyes as she seemed to have come to some conclusion you hadn’t yet. She looked disturbed, and she wouldn’t take her eyes off of you.
“Run,” she whispered.
Obviously, you guys were going to run, but her hand was pushing on your arm, pushing you away. Wanda was a screaming and crying mess, detained by the brunette who’d come with Steve, and more than you wanted to run, you wanted to hold her. What had just happened didn’t quite feel real, and you had a hard time convincing yourself that this wasn’t some awful nightmare you’d conjured up while falling asleep in the car.
Pietro was dead…and your eyes studied the way his blood crawled away from him. It made your stomach turn, and Steve’s next words took what little breath you had left.
“Peter…are you taking her or not?”
He sounded irritated, frustrated, and you slowly looked from him to Peter. His eyes met yours, and you took a step back as several things happened at once, too fast for you to comprehend, but just slow enough for you to witness.
The other cop, the brunette with hair that brushed his chin, took out his gun, and suddenly Wanda was just as dead as her brother. Steve was grabbing Pietro like he was nothing, the fourth cop was reaching for Michelle, and Peter was taking a step towards you. You didn’t even have time to react to it, Michelle grabbing your hand and taking off.
You couldn’t quite register that you were running, feet moving so fast and clumsily that it was a wonder you didn’t fall. Grass and twigs were scratching at your ankles and branches were snagging on your clothes. Witnessing the death of two of your friends wasn’t something you were able to process, too in disbelief, too in denial.
Michelle’s hand was tight in yours, and then it wasn’t.
You stumbled to a stop as she collapsed, your wide eyes falling to her frame. She was gasping and clutching her chest, a horrifying gurgling sound leaving her lips. Blood was soaking her shirt in a terrifying capacity, and when you fell to her knees beside her, her bloody hand pushed at you. Against your better judgement, you pressed your hand against her chest, but you knew it wouldn’t do any good.
Every cough coated her lips in more red, and you could hear the hurried footsteps approaching.
You felt like you couldn’t breathe, and even though Michelle couldn’t speak, her dying action was to harshly shove you away. You glanced between her and the approaching cops, and feeling like your body was working on autopilot, you struggled to stand. It took you too long to take your eyes off of her, breaking out into a confused run.
You didn’t want to die, and you didn’t know why this was happening.
Michelle’s blood was on you, all of your friends were dead, and you were being chased through the woods by cops you had never even seen before today. Your vision blurred from your tears, and you felt like you weren’t getting air fast enough. You couldn’t hear anything else outside of your breathing, ears deaf to all other sounds.
You had never been particularly athletic, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins had your legs pushing farther than they ever had. Your mind couldn’t focus on anything beyond the sight of your dead friends, fear tightening your chest at the thought of ending up just like them. You thought you were running fast enough, but maybe it was silly to think you could outrun a cop who’d trained for things like this.
You hit the ground hard.
Truthfully, you didn’t even understand why you’d fallen at first. You’d just started flailing and screaming, and in the commotion, sometimes your hands or feet would connect with something. Or better yet, someone. Your nails broke skin, and you couldn’t tell what blood was MJ’s and what blood was…Peter’s.
“Hey, hey,” he gently said, trying to shush you, pressing his body against yours and trying to get his hand over your mouth. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
You didn’t believe him. Why would you believe him? You couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t swallow down the heavy sobs that kept climbing out of your throat. Every swipe of your hand got more of Michelle’s blood on his face, and the visual made your stomach churn. You were pushing your arm against his throat as he reached down, and so sure that you were going to die, you were shocked by the feeling of being shocked.
The taser made you jerk, halting your movements long enough to allow Peter to grab your arms. Your body was still shaking some when he turned you on your stomach, and you squeezed your eyes shut, your breath moving dirt. You couldn’t stop crying even if you tried, and you wailed at both the feel and the sound of the handcuffs clicking into place.
“Sam,” you heard him call, his breathing just as heavy as yours.
Peter was sitting on your lower back, knees pressed into the dirt on either side of your waist. You felt him pull the back of your shirt down, a pinch making you wince, and you didn’t miss the way the hand that held your head down was massaging your scalp with its fingers. It was almost soothing, or maybe that was just from whatever was in the syringe.
Your body felt weighed down by more than just the grown man holding you down, and when he moved, starting to lift you, you confirmed that. You stumbled, vision tilting and spinning, and Peter leaned you against him. You could feel his arms holding you as your knees buckled, and you blinked up at him, your breathing shaky. The corners of your vision were going dark, and a few more tears escaped.
“I don’t want to die,” you heard yourself whisper.
You could make out his frown, the way his dark eyes ran over you. You shuddered at the feel of his fingers on your cheek, brushing a tear away, and you swallowed when he shook his head.
“You’re not going to.”
The stench of blood was the last thing any of your senses registered.
#peter parker x reader#peter parker#dark!peter parker#dark!peter Parker x reader#peter parker fic#peter parker fanfiction#marvel#marvel fic#cop!au
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--༒𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝༒--
—༒𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐳 𝐱 𝐘/𝐧 𝐘/𝐥/𝐧༒—
pairing: firefighter!eddie x cop!y/n
relations: friends to lovers
summary: they both knew each other before the station, they both fought. Y/n had been the lieutenant for Eddie's platoon. So they knew each other quite well. But Y/n had to leave the military sooner than she expected due to a bad injury. What happens when Y/n sees that Eddie has joined the same station she helps out at, station 118. Y/n is close friends with station 118, as she works with Athena.
(Reqs are open!)
#eddie dias x reader#evan buckley x eddie diaz x reader#eddie diaz x reader#evan buckley x reader x eddie diaz#eddie diaz#eddie x reader#eddie diaz x y/n#eddie diaz x you#118 firefam#firefighter#firefighter x cop#firefighter!au#cop!au#firefighter!eddie x cop!y/n#firefighters#station 118#firehouse 118#118 fam#lafd#y/n#fem reader
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Fanart by the super talented @jestermarotte! Thank you so much for bringing my fic to life with your amazing skills! The attention to detail is simply astounding—it’s everything I envisioned when writing and more! I am honoured and truly humbled to have my fic brought to life by your hand ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡
A huge thanks as well to the lovely @one-more-mossman for commissioning this amazing piece! It was completely unexpected! You are so good to me, and I can never repay your kindness and generosity (。Ó﹏Ò。)
Rocket Man (America x Russia)
Title: Rocket Man Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia Character(s) or Pairing(s): America, Russia; America/Russia Rating: Mature Warnings: Accents. Blow Jobs. Dubious Consent. Bribery. Corruption. Power Imbalance. Xenophobia. Summary: Ivan is stopped by a young blond (and not entirely unattractive) traffic cop, and foolishly attempts to bribe his way out of a ticket. Cop!AU.
I spent way too long writing this orz
Read it on AO3.
Keep reading
#cop!au#filter: all fics#filter: popular#filter: gifts#filter: favourites#pairings: america/russia#rating: e#post: fanart#jestermarotte
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Ghost Kitchen (brought to you by criminal entrepreneur, Red Hood)
Danny’s got the easiest job in Gotham.
He works as a fry cook at a shoddily-run, independent burger joint. Hardly anyone comes in, despite prices being criminally low, and portions insanely large, and while the manager looks like the average tough-as-nails ex-con, he lets Danny mess around in the kitchen whenever the place is empty. (Which is often. This place has to be the city’s hidden gem or something!)
Mr. Manager’s the only one ever there with Danny, except for sometimes when his buddies come over to smoke and play cards. Danny would find it shady, except part of his job is not to ask questions. Literally, he was told during the interview.
(It was a weird interview. Why would they need to hire someone who’s been in a gunfight before? Like, he has, but Gotham’s idea of “hirable qualities” is so bizarre.)
So instead he whips up some killer burgers with the frozen ingredients, and basks in the praise as the guys tell him he shouldn’t have, he does too much for this joint, ain’t that friendly!
Now, Danny’s a chef on the newer side. As a teen he’d preferred the look of Nasty Burger over anything with Michelin stars, and he only really took up cooking after Jazz moved out for college. But just like ecto-exposure used to turn the groceries sentient, Danny’s low-level ecto signature imbues all his food with something historically haunted Gothamites just love! And Danny’s never been one to half-ass a job when it makes people happy.
With fresher produce, real meat, Danny’s sure he can take his dishes to the next level. It takes a couple months of badgering, but his manager finally agrees to contact the mysterious store owner, who keeps the place going, despite profits Danny knows have to be in the red.
Danny spends the morning prepping. He pours his heart into his food, eager to impress. The big boss will be here soon, and he wants to prove that despite the dangerous location, this place has real potential!
It isn’t until the Red Hood shows up that Danny realizes he’s been working for a money laundering scheme.
#ecto has a weird effect on them actually. a lot like how danielle drinks ecto to keep her stable#ecto has positive health benefits for gothamites! it boosts their immune system gives them a little more energy makes them less irritable#silly hc but i think its fun#also danny just. thought it was a normal ass interview. the person who hired him was heavily hinting at the criminal element of his job the#whole time. danny just kept thinking man i cant believe all interviews are like this in gotham. every one of the#m asks if im okay lying to cops. i am but its weird i never got asked this in amity#dpxdc#dcxdp#dc x dp#dp x dc#dead on main#ghost kitchen au#danny fenton#jason todd#kipwrite
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honestly we were so deprived of a car chase
also 80s cop au or whatever just any excuse to not draw connor in his cyberlife clothes lmao
#dbh#detroit become human#connor rk800#dbh connor#dbh fanart#dbh rk800#rk800#dbh human au#dbh hank#hank anderson#dbh 80s cop au#car chase#krita#hank totally has fast and furious skills
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i think i'm hilarious -- aka i made blood blossom danny au memes
all of these come from my DpxDC prompt "i am pushing the batdad agenda--" and it's corresponding additions in the reblogs ksdjlf.
i am. rotating them in my head. forever and always. personally i think there should be more batdad aus in dpxdc, their dynamic could be neat. :)
#THAT FIRST ONE TOOK ME A HOT MINUTE TO MAKE. i have never been more careful with a trackpad. imgflip doesnt have an undo button#i think its fucking hilarious#its a batdad au#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc#dc x dp#mmm i need to come up with a name for this au#found family ftw WHOOOO. i could just do a generic 'blood blossom au' tag but i want a specific one because i like being unique#eldest batkid danny au#chronically ill danny au#danny: im grateful he's helping me but im still kinda apprehensive...#battinson: vaults over a car to escape reporters. likes rock music. isn't fucking evil. punched a cop. actively looking for a cure#danny: ...huh. okay.#furiously pushing the batdad agenda for my own gain. just look at them guys. they're funny little guys.#unofficial witness protection to adoption pipeline.#bruce wayne accidental teen acquisition. save a teenager gain a son#its about the adventure of them going from strangers to friends to family :)#im bored of the bruce slander guys in the words of hermes from hadestown:#“[its] about someone who *tries”*#danny saw a funny man in a funny costume eat the side of a dumpster and has never related more with someone on a spiritual level#“brother eugh i feel that. oh heY WAIT HERO BUDDY?? SAME HAT??? SAME HAT?”#danny's been the only hero he's known since he was 13. on god he is leaping at this opportunity. like YES. PLEASE BE ANOTHER HERO#HELP ME GET AWAY FROM CERTIFIED CRAZY MAN. HELP. YOU'RE SCARY AND HIDING IN THE DARK. EVEN BETTER. HELP A BROTHER OUT HERE#blood blossom au#for the time being thats the name
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dextrocardia | 16
Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.
"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."
"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.
Spouses.
pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader
genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, (smut?)
word count: 6.5k
warnings: none besides.... fictional police work...
rating: NC-17 – Adults Only
masterlist
part 16/?
<previous | next>
© dextrocardia is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.
Despite everything, you fill with a sense of excitement as you drive off, Sana in the passenger seat beside you. It’s nice to feel like you have a purpose again, and even if you technically had one during the last mission with Jeongguk, it was overshadowed by the danger you believed resided under the same roof.
It’s a comfortable journey, and soon enough the highway turns into a pristine neighborhood, bearing no trace of the traumatic events that occurred there months ago. Most of it looks the same as you remember it but other parts don’t. There’s an unfamiliar car parked outside ‘your’ house, and not only that, but glancing through the large windows as you cruise by, you spot movement inside. Children? You knew people would eventually move into the house–a house that never even belonged to you to begin with–but it feels weird.
Putting your more than illogical feelings aside, you focus on parking your car outside the Jungs’ house instead. Before stepping out, you and Sana give each other one last once-over. Despite the relatively low risk of this initial part of the mission, you’ve still made an effort to appear inconspicuous, and it’s not only for your own sake. Considering what they’ve done for you–Hoseok especially–you don’t want to be a bother if they’d rather not have law enforcement be seen knocking on their door.
It’s Eunha who opens the door, eyes going wide when they land on your face. For a second, your worry grows; what if your presence isn’t actually appreciated? At all? But then her lips pull into a smile.
“Oh, hello?”
“Hi, we were wondering if we could ask you a few questions? About another case, not… yours,” you find your greeting turning into rambling.
“Oh, uh, yeah, of course. Come on in. I’m a little busy baking at the moment, but Hobi is home, and I’m guessing he’s the one you really want to speak with?”
She wipes her hands on her light blue jeans, leaving a white, powdery residue on the fabric before opening the door wider.
“Thank you,” you smile as you step inside, looking around to see that, as far as you can tell, everything looks the same as when you last paid the Jungs’ a visit. When you think about it, Hoseok never brought up the bugs you placed in their house, so you’re guessing they never found them. Or if they did, they haven’t brought it up for some reason or another. You’re not sure, but what you do know is that you’re not gonna be the one to do it, just in case.
“Make yourselves at home. I need to check on the cookies. Hobi!” she turns to call out into the house, “We have guests!”
With an apologetic smile, Eunha excuses herself, and then you and Sana are left alone in the entryway. You share some kind of look. Sure, you didn’t expect too much hostility, but to leave you, two detectives, unsupervised in their home?
A second later, the sound of footsteps approaches, and you smile toward the brown-haired man as he comes into view, his confused features turning happy. He takes in the sight of you before he closes the distance to give you a warm hug.
“How are you? You look good!” he compliments, also turning to shake Sana’s hand, a very sweet smile on his lips. “Hoseok.”
“Sana,” she greets.
“I’m doing well,” you answer, “He is too; made a full recovery.”
Hoseok’s smile falls, and he takes on a rather baffled look instead. “We saw on the news. About the station and the investigation and all that. Crazy. I mean, we knew there were corrupt cops, but to that extent?”
“Yeah.”
“So what brings you here?” he asks, a glint slowly returning to his eyes. “Was it maybe something I said one time at a hospital?”
You nod, “Yeah. Can you tell us what you know? Or give us any tips at all so that we can stop Kyung Sunghyun once and for all?”
You watch him contemplate. Since he first let that comment about Ksung slip at the hospital, you’ve felt that he’s a good enough man to at least not mind Sunghyun being investigated and possibly put behind bars. But what can he say without incriminating himself for essentially planning a robbery? And can he trust you if he accidentally lets something slip? You might seem like you’ve stopped pursuing him, but can he trust you not to, ever?
“Why don’t we take a seat in the living room?” He gestures for you to follow him, and after quickly taking off your shoes and jackets, you do, with Sana in tow.
Sitting on the Jungs’ couch, you wait for Hoseok to get comfortable and for Sana to pull her pen and notebook out of her bag.
“Hey, love?” Hoseok calls out to his wife, turning to the two of you, “You want something to drink?”
“Oh, water would be fine,” Sana accepts, and you nod, “Yeah.”
“Hm?” Eunha appears in the doorway. She seems to have more flour on her pants than last time.
“Could you bring us some water?”
“Of course. Anything else?”
Hoseok thinks about it for a second before he lights up, “Oh, do we have some of those brownies left?”
“Uh, yeah, I’ll bring a few pieces.”
“Thanks.”
As soon as Eunha leaves, Hoseok turns to you again, a look of concentration coloring his features. “So, what do you want to know?”
“Well, everything,” you say.
“Okay. I’ll warn you that I might not know as much as you think, and some things–not that I know them–I can’t say. I guess I can start by saying that, hypothetically, if I were a criminal of any kind, I would probably still stay as far away from other criminals as possible; especially if I had… valuables that might make me a target. No honor amongst thieves and all that, you know?”
Although his words deny any criminal activity, his expression reveals that he’s well aware that everyone in the room knows that he’s far from innocent. At least as far as the law is concerned. You watch him intently, waiting for whatever information he has and praying that it’ll help.
Sana drives you both home an hour or so later, you sitting quietly in the passenger seat and staring out the window as the world passes by.
“We need to tell Jihyo as soon as possible,” Sana says, “I can drive you home after if you want me to? Unless you’d rather stay with me?”
“No, it’s… fine. I’m fine.”
You are fine. Although it could’ve sent you into some sort of panic attack, it didn’t. It’s just a reminder of why you don’t trust men, and you feel yourself withdrawing instead.
Hoseok didn’t have too much info on the Ksung trafficking case. As you expected, they spent a pretty significant amount of time trailing Sunghyun and his closest men in order to map their routines. Not that Hoseok admitted it; it was very ‘hypothetical’. But from what you gathered, it was difficult to get close to the top men and almost harder to follow anyone. Then, when everything happened and Hoseok and Yoongi understood that you’d been watching them, they put the plans mostly on hold. Except for one thing.
“He, of course, doesn’t actually get his hands dirty if he can help it, and we weren’t–you’d have to be a whole team to keep track of everyone and what they’re doing. But …there might be a private plane flying mostly under the radar about once a month. Someone might’ve found… ‘receipts’ for fuel from different places, and when pieced together, they form a vague route.”
“I guess the question is, why the need to fly incognito? Is it possible it flies… cash or other valuables from the bank that they’d rather not have everyone know of?” Sana asks, and you nod in agreement. It’s a very valid concern; you wouldn’t want just anyone to know if you’re transporting valuable cargo, even legally.
“The plane is refueled more often and with less fuel than a cargo plane, according to the receipts. It seems to be a very small plane, with a correspondingly small fuel tank. And these days, flight tracking is the default; it’s definitely an extra step to opt-out. Sometimes even difficult to achieve.”
“So we’ll be looking into this plane, alright. Where are the receipts from? Is there a pattern? Somewhere we can go to see if we catch them as they’re refueling?”
“The first stop is around three hours from their headquarters, so you’d assume the plane is stationed around there somewhere, but it might have proved hard to actually find it. I’ll give you the coordinates for that and the other locations.”
“Thank you.”
It’s with genuine gratitude that you thank Hoseok. It’s truly ironic that one of the sweetest men in your story is a bank robber, while the police have taken on the role of your enemy.
“So how is your case coming along? You haven’t found them yet, I assume?”
You press your lips together briefly before sighing. You know you shouldn’t disclose anything, really, but again, with how much has been on the news, the public would’ve known if the wanted police officers had been apprehended. And they haven’t. You’ve been told not even the Jimin-lead actually led to anything.
So you shake your head. "Still looking.”
To your surprise, Hoseok looks to be thinking hard about something.
“Okay, so… this might not lead anywhere, but if you’re stuck and possibly trailing Ksung’s people anyway… rumor has it that Ksung has been paying off the cops for a while. Not sure what station, but maybe, someone–at least up until around two months ago–used to meet up with someone at seven a.m. on the fifteenth of every month. Like I said, it’s supposedly around two hours away from here, essentially smack dab in the middle between the closest stations, but given your previous colleagues’... reluctance to follow the law, it might be worth checking out.”
“But they’ve been on the run for months now,” Sana questions, “If Ksung has been paying for police protection or their deliberate ignorance, then what would be the point now? They don’t have anything left to offer.”
“Their silence, maybe?” Hoseok tries to offer an explanation. “They could be blackmailing Ksung into giving them the money they need while on the run. Pay up, or they’ll tip someone off?”
“If what we think about Ksung is true, wouldn’t he just… get rid of them if that were the case? Can’t be that much of a leap between trafficking and murder? Especially if they’re a threat to everything Sunghyun built?”
You adjust your position on the couch, sitting quite literally on the edge of your seat and looking at Sana. “Yeah, I honestly think so too. It wouldn’t make sense to let some of the most wanted people blackmail you like that. There’s a big risk that they’re caught and then they might blab and drag you down too. Better to get rid of them.”
“Maybe,” Hoseok adds, “But there were a lot of officers caught in the investigation, weren’t there?”
“Yeah. All fired,” Sana confirms.
“Again, I can’t promise it’ll help because it’s somewhat of a long shot, but what if you didn’t catch them all? What if…”
“--Someone’s still working at the station,” you continue where Hoseok trailed off. “And taking bribes?”
“And you think that person is helping Hoseong?” Sana wonders, her eyes wide.
“Don’t know, but what are the odds of two separate groups of officers being corrupt?”
You really don’t want to answer that.
Jihyo is surprised at your findings, but when you turn it around to look at it from another angle, it makes an awful lot more sense. Instead of questioning the odds of your two cases being connected, it’s not so strange to think that a criminal bank CEO might be bribing the town’s corrupt police. It’s just strange for you to have found yourself in the middle of it.
“So what do we do?” Sana whispers, glancing at Jihyo’s closed office door behind her.
“Wait. What’s today’s date?” Jihyo asks, her eyes going wide as she realizes what you’ve already had time to see.
“January fourteenth,” Sana explains.
Jihyo looks at you and Sana and the look you give each other. “No. We should wait for backup; the outsourced detectives will be here in a week.”
“We’ll miss the window,” you argue quietly.
Jihyo raises her eyebrows. “What if it’s not true? What if it’s a trap to get rid of you?”
“Set up by Hoseok? I don’t think so. He could’ve gotten rid of us today if he wanted to, and I don’t think he would; he saved us, after all.”
“Well, you more or less surprised him today, and people knew where you were, so it would’ve been stupid on his part. Getting rid of you while you’re ‘looking for someone else’ would be a better plan. And like you’ve said before, when he saved your life, he didn’t know that you were investigating him yet. Now that he does, he might’ve just been waiting for an opportunity. What are the odds of you finding all of this out on the fourteenth when the supposed meeting is taking place tomorrow?”
Well, when she’s putting it like that you have to agree that there’s a risk. Not a big one, you don’t think, but a risk nonetheless.
“I want to go,” you say before lowering the volume of your voice further, “If there is someone here still… if there’s a mole, we need to… we need to act as soon as possible. The longer we wait, even if we try to be discreet, the higher the risk of him finding out.”
Jihyo sighs, lifting her hand to rub her forehead until she seemingly decides.
“Fine. Do you want to go tomorrow? Together? Maybe you should bring someone else as well?”
“Who? We don’t know who the mole or informant is, and if you suggest bringing Jeongguk…” you trail off. Jeongguk is great, but this is not his area of expertise.
“He’ll want to go, regardless.”
“He’s not a detective.”
“He’s out on a call right now?” Sana asks.
Jihyo nods. “Yeah, I think so. Out patrolling, at least.”
“Don’t tell him,” Sana suggests.
“You don’t think it’s him, right?” Jihyo asks in disbelief.
Sana continues, “No, but… the more people who know, the bigger the risk. I think he’ll do more good here, keeping up the charades.”
A few hours later, you’re already in the car, heading toward the spot Hoseok pointed out on a map. The meeting isn’t supposed to take place until tomorrow morning, which gives you a valuable opportunity to scope the place out beforehand.
The sun has set by the time you reach a hill, the road ending in an empty cul-de-sac with a low stone wall overlooking the arches of a large, gray viaduct. There’s a road running parallel to you, only on the other side of the wall, below the hill. It doesn’t pass under the viaduct, which stands almost perpendicular to you, but instead turns to run alongside it. You lean your gloved hands against the stone wall, following the road and its sidewalk below with your eyes.
The meeting point is supposedly a few meters from the sidewalk, up underneath the viaduct’s closest arches. From this spot, you can’t see beyond the arch, except for a few bushes and trees. It looks like it might be downhill.
Hidden by the elevation, the stone wall, and some trees, the current spot will be where you park the car tomorrow, and before checking in at a nearby hotel for the night, you decide to also check out the other side of the viaduct.
“So, how does it feel to be back for real?” Sana asks, stepping out of the bathroom and putting her toothbrush in her mouth.
Sitting on the bed, you flip through the TV channels. “Uh, good. I really missed this… feeling of having a purpose?”
She pauses the brushing, toothbrush still in her mouth as she speaks. “Mhm, I get what you’re saying. And… how does it feel, knowing that there might be someone we… missed?”
You take a moment to think about it. “I don’t know. I’m so used to walking around the hallways, paranoid of who might be waiting around the corner. Waiting for me to be alone somewhere. After a while, you just don’t have the energy to be that scared anymore.”
Sana nods in understanding, brushing her teeth thoroughly for another few seconds before she enters the bathroom again to spit the foam into the sink.
“Did you know that I basically didn’t fight them at all when they came for us during the undercover assignment?” you ask, fiddling with the remote on the white bedspread.
“Jeongguk mentioned something about feeling like you’d given up, but not a lot more. He wanted us to stay close and check up on you; said he thought the last year had taken a bigger toll on you than we’d assumed.”
“Yeah. I’ve been so scared for such a long time; felt for so long that I stand no chance whenever they actually decide to try it. I didn’t think there was any use in fighting them when they came, so I just… stood there. I closed my eyes.”
“But Jeongguk saved you.”
“He did, yeah. Let himself be stabbed by a fucking samurai sword.”
Sana’s quiet as she exits the bathroom again, a white robe in her arms.
You let out a deep breath. “What would you do? If you were me?”
Immediately understanding, she sits down on the other bed. “I don’t know. I want to say that I’d give him a chance, but I think it might be easier said than done.”
You look down at your hands. “Yeah.”
“I do believe he’s a good guy, and I think he’s learned his lesson, but a relationship can’t depend on whether he’s good or not, if he deserves you, or whether you should forgive him, can it?”
“It shouldn’t?” you raise your eyebrow at her, smiling a little.
“No, I mean, you shouldn’t be with him if the answer to those questions is ‘no,’ but the next question is just… Do you want to be with him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then… does being with him make you happy?”
You feel your whole body practically answer her question. Your eyes drop sadly to the bedspread again, and your shoulders lift a little anxiously. “I think he makes me feel inadequate.”
She looks at you sadly. “You know that you’re not, though, right? You get to feel that way, and he has no say over your feelings because he’s the one who caused them, but you’re more than enough. We’ll support you no matter what you decide to do.”
Nodding slowly, you take another deep breath, getting up from the bed to brush your own teeth.
Usually, you find it hard to wake up fully when the sun has yet to rise and it’s freezing cold. Even the hotel’s hard but warm bed would be tempting you to stay in. But not today. The moment the alarm blares, you’re already reaching for your phone to quiet it, sitting up and looking around. On the other bed, not far from yours, Sana is rubbing her eyes and yawning. Today’s the day you might actually find a good lead.
Due to the nature of today’s assignment, you’re armed, just in case, and you’re clipping small body cameras to your thick, black jackets. On your head, you’ve got black beanies, and your hands are gloved as well to withstand the cold.
The sun still hasn’t made it far on its journey across the sky when you park the car in the same spot as you did yesterday.
“I’m in my position,” Sana informs through the earpiece. You dropped her off closer to the other side of the viaduct, where she’s currently hiding a little farther down a walkway and behind some parked cars.
“Good. Me too,” you confirm, leaning your elbows against the wall. Thanks to the trees and the relative distance, you’re well hidden as you kneel behind the stone wall, focusing on the meeting point through your black binoculars.
“It’s five fifty a.m., and we’re both in position,” you repeat, more so for the recordings.
“And so we wait,” Sana concludes.
Despite the thick jackets, it doesn’t take long before you’re freezing. If you could, you’d sit in the car, at least to be protected from the biting wind, but the angle from there wouldn’t let you see over the wall. Sana complains quietly about her fingers while your cheeks hurt the most. Every glance at your watch is painful.
Six fifty arrives, and you focus further. But there’s no one. Once every few minutes, a car or two passes on the road below you, but that’s it. Seven o’clock. Still no one. You’re starting to fear that maybe you missed them? Did they change location? Or maybe they decided on another time? What if they really just stopped meeting up, altogether? Hoseok didn’t seem too sure, after all. You bite your lip, trying to keep your cold body still. If there is an informant, you need to catch him.
Then, at seven twenty, you hear something. It’s the rustling of thick fabric as Sana adjusts her position.
“Dark-clothed male, moving in. 4 o’clock.”
As slowly and inconspicuously as you can, to not draw attention, you turn your head. Sure enough, a man is walking on the sidewalk below and to your right.
Just like you, he’s dressed in all black, a bulky jacket covering most of his body except his legs. He’s got the hood pulled over his head and his hands in his pockets.
“Can you get a visual of his face?” you ask, watching wide-eyed as he passes below you.
“No, he’s got something–a shirt or something–pulled up over his mouth and nose.”
“Okay, looks like he’s headed for the viaduct,” you say, waiting to see if he follows the sidewalk as it turns to run parallel to the viaduct, or if he steps in under the arch. “We’ll wait and see if anyone else shows.”
But the man doesn’t stop to wait for someone. He steps off the sidewalk, casually walking over to the closest of the huge pillars, graffitied in blue and green, and swiftly retrieves something from under a small bush. A bag?
“It’s a dead drop,” Sana exclaims as the man continues on his path, heading in her direction. It only took a few seconds, and anyone less observant would’ve missed the pickup.
“Do you recognize him?” you ask, on the edge of your seat. “Can you follow?”
You’re too far away to follow him on foot, and driving down would be impractical and likely draw his attention, so you stay put.
Instead, Sana moves, the rustling loud in your ears, and you hold your breath. It’s always more nerve-wracking to watch someone else pursue and track a target than doing it yourself. If this man discovers her, you don’t know what will happen, much less what he’ll do if he recognizes her.
The man disappears from view, and for a while, all you hear is Sana’s breathing and that same occasional rustling of her jacket as she moves. Then, there’s a bout of silence before her quiet, shocked voice comes through.
“I can’t follow him further; he’s getting into a black car. I… I think it’s JJ.”
As quickly as possible, you drive back to the station, wondering if you ever missed a clue about JJ. Considering how many men work at the station and how you’ve had to keep a very close eye on some of them, JJ has flown under your radar a bit. The tall man wasn’t anyone you’ve paid much attention to or interacted with, but he never came across as weird or suspicious; just as a regular man. He never outright harassed you, but he never stood up for you either, but then again, he wasn’t the only one using that approach. Additionally, you’ve seen him with Jeongguk a bunch of times, and you figured Jeongguk had cleared all the remaining men. Not that it’s Jeongguk’s fault, but still; you don’t think he’s easy to fool.
“How sure are you?” Jihyo asks in a hushed voice, her worried eyes flitting between you, Sana, and the closed office door. You know JJ is already at the station, you walked past him in the hallway, dressed in uniform. You weren’t able to follow the man, but considering you had to wait a bit and then drive down to collect Sana, it’s entirely plausible he made it back before you.
“Like eighty percent. It was hard to see, but… I’m pretty sure. Don’t know if I captured anything of value, but we can go through the recordings to be sure?”
“Maybe we can look through the work schedule as well?” you suggest. “If he hasn’t been clocked in at seven to eight a.m. on the fifteenth of the last few months–probably since they went on the run–then–”
“–We still can’t rule him out,” Jihyo interrupts sadly. “Even if he’s been clocked in, he–maybe together with his partner–could’ve simply driven there while on duty, assuming they weren’t on an active call. Maybe not super likely, but not impossible. So if he’s been clocked in, we’d need to look at those exact hours and place him on specific calls.”
“Which might take a while,” Sana adds, and you nod, realizing that she’s right.
Your heart races. “So what do we do?”
“His car’s in the garage, right?”
Jihyo gives Sana a warning look. “We’ll need a warrant to search it, and this is not enough for one.”
“But not to take a look through the window,” you say, biting your lip and meeting Sana’s eyes.
You wait for Jihyo’s objection, but it doesn’t come. “Be careful,” she whispers instead, following you toward the door. “If there’s one, there might be more.”
“Yes, boss.”
Being the first one to step out of Jihyo’s office, you glance the other way, just in case JJ happens to be watching. However, you don’t look where you’re going, and of course, you run headfirst into someone’s chest.
“Hey,” a deep voice says, its owner steadying you by your arms. Of course.
Embarrassed, you look up, only to meet Jeongguk’s dark eyes. He’s dressed head to toe in uniform, the sleeves rolled up to expose his veiny forearms, tattoos and all, and it’s clear that he’s on his way out to patrol. You didn’t know he was really patrolling again, but then again, it doesn’t seem like they were getting anywhere on your case, and well… you don’t talk much these days. Like always when he’s near, your heart rate picks up, and your skin heats under his hands despite the fabric between you.
“Uh, sorry,” you apologize, looking away. You know you’re normally a pretty good actress, but today, you just feel too wound up and on edge. Jeongguk holds onto your arms, his observant eyes gazing over you.
“Is everything okay?”
“Uh, yeah. Everything’s fine,” you say with a nod, glancing at Sana. “But we need to go.”
But Jeongguk doesn’t give up. “There’s something’s going on, isn’t there?”
“No,” you lie again.
“You’re making me worried.”
“You don’t need to be.”
His gaze flickers between you and Sana, and even though you don’t think he’s completely buying it, he lets go. “Promise me you’ll tell me if you find out anything.”
“Yeah, okay,” you say, already moving away. Technically, you being ‘off’ can simply be explained by the fact that you’re not entirely comfortable around him.
After getting rid of Jeongguk, you and Sana enter the station’s parking garage. The personnel floor is empty, save for about twenty to thirty vehicles, Jeongguk’s motorcycle included. Still, you make sure to look around before you start.
“What did the car look like?” you ask, peering through the back window of the closest one, a small dark blue car.
“Unfortunately, I couldn’t make out much besides the color and size. It was black and a pretty small one, I think.”
You look around. Almost all cars are black. Or at least dark enough to be mistaken for black. "Do we even know what his actual car looks like?"
“Well... Let’s just check all of them. Just to be safe.”
Even though you make sure to check carefully, the process goes quickly. Until Sana calls your name quietly, the black car in front of her being her sixth or seventh.
“That could be it, right?” she points toward something barely visible, halfway under the passenger seat. But yeah, it looks like black fabric, maybe part of a small bag, but you can’t be entirely sure.
“Yeah, maybe.”
“If we could only look inside,” Sana mutters.
“Yeah,” you sigh, your shoulder dropping in disappointment. “But all he did was maybe pick up a bag of unknown contents outside. It’s not enough. Should we just check the rest of them and then head back?”
Sana nods, “I’ll finish this row.”
Jihyo is still in her office when you return, having found nothing but the maybe-bag. She’s pacing on the phone to someone, motioning for you to enter when you cautiously peek your head through the door.
“Okay… Just get back to me as soon as you can, alright?” she says, sitting down behind her desk. “Yeah, okay, bye.”
“We saw what we think could be the bag, halfway hidden under the seat of a car that looks about the one the man got into,” Sana explains quietly after you’ve closed the door behind you.
“Okay, so nothing’s ruled out and nothing’s confirmed,” Jihyo concludes.
You nod, trying to think of the next steps. “Well, what if we review the camera footage? We were probably too far away, but you never know, right? And Jihyo, you could check the schedules and work hours, start cross-checking them with the calls responded to. I’ll see if I can dig up anything else about him.”
For a few hours, you work in Jihyo’s office, all three of you focused. Jihyo sits behind her desk, trying to see if she can match JJ to specific calls on any recent fifteenths and thus provide him with an alibi.
Sana sits in a chair on the other side of the desk, her laptop open in front of her as she goes through every frame of your recordings, and you sit on the floor, back against the wall, scrolling through both your phone and laptop.
“Finding anything?” Sana wonders, sighing in frustration–a sign that the recordings aren’t giving her anything useful.
“Maybe…” Jihyo replies, eyes locked on her screen. “Can you read line thirty-seven for me?” She hands Sana a sheet of paper listing the calls.
“Sure. Uh… Call about vandalism came at six twenty-seven a.m., reported closed at eight thirty-two. October fifteenth, last year.”
“Six twenty-seven to eight thirty-two,” Jihyo repeats as you scroll through JJ’s instagram, clicking on yet another tagged friend.
“Mhm,” Sana hums.
“Well, he was clocked in… But it seems like… yeah, Min and Mark were the ones who responded to it.”
The room feels… tense in a way, something Jihyo is about to put into words. Meanwhile, you focus on your phone, fingers tapping away quickly and your heartbeat rising.
“Doesn’t seem like we can rule him out. Which, you know, sucks because we all trust him–maybe trusted him–and we don’t want yet another one to have betrayed us. But if it is him, then maybe… we might finally be getting somewhere? Maybe?”
“Yeah, I agree. Don’t like the direction we’re moving in, but at least we’re moving.”
“Hey, guys,” you say, your eyes still glued to the screen in your hands. “JJ has a stepsister named Jimin.”
“What?” Sana exclaims, her voice hushed and eyes wide as she turns to you.
“Yeah. JJ’s mom seems to be dating this Jimin’s dad, but it doesn’t look like they’re married; not even like they live together.”
“So there are no ties on paper?”
“No, no ties.”
All three of you exchange silent looks, realizing what this could mean. You might have an address.
After discussing your findings–all hushed voices and big eyes as you conclude that, yeah, maybe Jimin visited her brother at the station and stumbled across Hoseong–you decide to take a break. You need to pee and Sana complained only a minute ago of her rumbling stomach. To be fair, you haven’t had time to take any real breaks, much less eat.
Determined, you leave the office, discreetly looking around before heading toward the bathroom. Sana leaves for the cafeteria.
After using the bathroom, you sit on the closed toilet lid to gather your thoughts. It almost feels like you need to catch your breath, too. Do you dare hope that you might finally get them? Still, you find yourself imagining what you’d do if that were the case. It’s not like they’ve haunted you for decades, but even a few months stretching into years feels like such a long time. A lifetime, almost. You experienced life at the station before everything went down, but is it even possible to return to that? Maybe it isn’t; you’re not the same person anymore.
Still thinking deeply about what this revelation might mean, you head back toward Jihyo’s office. Occasionally–like now–the white halls are empty, but as you approach the wooden door with the frosted window, you hear voices inside. They’re not abnormally loud per se, but louder than they should be.
You open the door, and for a moment, the voices fall silent. Already back, Sana stands with a Saran-wrapped bread bun and coffee in her hands. Jihyo sits behind her desk as usual, her laptop open and the call papers scattered across her normally tidy desk. And Jeongguk is standing in front of it, still in his uniform, wild eyes looking back at you.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It wouldn’t have changed anything for the better,” you say, stepping in fully and closing the door behind you. “You’re with the guys more than we are. We don’t want them to find out.”
“There’s a risk anyway,” he says, turning to Jihyo, “We need to go there as soon as possible.”
Jihyo meets his gaze, her expression understanding but firm. “Jeongguk, like I said, we need to wait for backup. We’re understaffed, and there’s too much of a risk that they’ll recognize you. Besides, all of you inside this room are too emotionally involved at this point.”
His hands fly out, and though he tries to keep his voice down, frustration seeps through. “They were allowed to watch JJ accept a bribe in the first place?” he argues.
“Yes, and that was risky enough. If they recognize you, they’ll probably try to kill you. They’ve got nothing to lose, and you’re the reason they’re in this mess to begin with. Just hang in there until backup arrives.”
He shakes his head in frustration and disbelief. “This is crazy. They’ve tried to kill her so many times, and someone connected to them is still here. For all we know, he could be planning something on their behalf as we speak!”
“I don’t know what to tell you. I understand you’re frustrated; we all are, but this is the best course of action.”
He gestures toward you, “She needs to leave in that case. She can’t stay here.”
To be honest, you’re not that scared of JJ. He’s never seemed particularly interested in you, and you don’t think he’s planning to kill you or anything like that. Months have passed without you even suspecting he might be involved, and nothing has happened. Sure, you were mostly with Jeongguk until recently and not that often at the station, so while the opportunities might not have been plentiful, JJ has had his chances.
Jihyo sighs, leaning back in her chair. “It’s up to her.”
He turns to face you fully. “Come stay with me? Take a week off, stay at my place.”
You shake your head. “No, I’m staying at my place, and I’ll continue to work if I feel like it.”
“Please?”
You’ll never stop being surprised at how easily Jeongguk lets go of his pride. But by doing it so quickly, with so few reservations, it’s almost as if he grows in your eyes. You try not to think about him in that way.
You shake your head. “I don’t want you to think that you need to save me all the time. I’ll be fine on my own.”
He glances around at the three women in the room, none giving him the support he wants. He looks like he wants to say something, but suddenly, someone calls for him on his com radio.
“Go,” Jihyo instructs as Jeongguk gives you one last longing look before quickly exiting through the door.
Jeongguk can’t shake the new information, and as the day progresses, it keeps gnawing at him, his mind turning over every possible option again and again. While that last call–regarding a break-in—kept him distracted for a bit, his thoughts return as he enters the station again, Min heading off to the cafeteria.
He knows you’ve already gone home by the time he’s clocking out and heading for the locker room, still unsure of what to do. It terrifies him to know that there’s still someone who might want to hurt you, walking these halls. That he missed someone.
He’s got three options to choose from. The first: go home. Get some sleep. Or at least try to get some sleep. And then just hope that JJ didn’t spot you this morning and is waiting to attack you outside your apartment door. Jeongguk knows that it’s what you want him to do; go home and not get involved. But he’ll never forgive himself if something happens to you.
Option two is to drive to your apartment and sit in his car outside it all night. He’ll do it if needed, but it’s not very tempting, and it’ll render him useless at work tomorrow. Additionally, if nothing happens tonight–which, yeah, it might not–then he’ll need to guard you the night after as well. Sooner or later, he’ll need to sleep.
Biting his lip, he enters the locker room, taking a lap to make sure he’s alone before pulling out his phone. Google gives him the number to the nearest car rental, and he wastes no time, pressing ‘dial.’
He’s picking option three, and he needs a car that isn’t his.
<previous | next>
author's note: i hope you liked it!! <3<3
#jungkook#jeongguk#bts#bangtan#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#jungkook au#jungkook imagine#jungkook scenario#jungkook fic#jungkook ff#bts fanfic#bts angst#bts fluff#bts smut#bts imagine#bts x you#bts x reader#bts x y/n#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x y/n#police jungkook#officer jungkook#cop jungkook#spy jungkook#undercover jungkook#fake marriage#enemies to lovers jungkook
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#one piece#luffy#I loved the edo period filler episodes cuz they were really fun and the designs were great#but luffy being a policeman was just so.... ?????#there could be a million different AUs and I would never imagine him being a cop in any of them
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manmade monsters Sun/Moon au. bc i have no self control lol
i also mentally call it the 'why are there giant robot monsters in my shed' au lol
idk what else to say so uh. enjoy
#manmade monsters au#horror movie monsters au#fnaf au#bones of a rabbit#bones of a rabbit au#fnaf sun/moon x reader#fnaf sun/moon x y/n#fnaf dca#fnaf sun x reader#fnaf sun x y/n#grouchy reader i love u#also they r mentally ill thats part of why they don't trust authority#they know that no matter what their problem is the cops would write it off bc theyre 'crazy'#and that peeves them off#is this based off my experience with doctors saying every symptom ive ever had is bc of anxiety. perhaps#anyway im not dead! huzzah#srry lol
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"Case: It's You" Masterlist
Pairing: Detective Reader x ot8 detective ateez
Genre: enemies to lovers, romance, eventual smut, dark themes, angst.
Synopsis: As a headstrong detective- forced to transfer to another Precinct after pushing your team, and superiors too far- your new unit is less than pleased by your presence. In fact, they are down right hostile, resulting in more time butting heads than doing your job: taking down the organized crime 'gangs' of your city. Once you finally get your foot in the door, into their circle, you realize you bit off more than you can chew- or maybe it was the perfect place for you.
Completed word count(excluding spinoff chap): 97,875
Chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five |
Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten |
Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen |
♡15.5- Spinoff bonus |♡ {wc: 1,824}
Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty |
Twenty-one | Twenty-two | Twenty-three | Twenty-four | Twenty-five |
Twenty-six | Twenty-seven | Twenty-eight | Twenty-nine | Thirty
This book is finished! Book 2 coming early march!
Big shoutout to my beta readers that are currently the soul motivation for this fic and remind me to edit: @flurrys-creativity @candypop1611 and @daemour
#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez ot8#ateez yeosang#ateez hongjoong#ateez yunho#ateez mingi#ateez seonghwa#ateez au#ateez fanfiction#ateez masterlist#ateez mafia au#ateez detective au#ateez cop au#ateez smut#ateez jongho#ateez san#ateez wooyoung#ateez x you#ateez x y/n#poly ateez x reader#ateez fic#pirateteeznet
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Basic Training II (Peter Parker x Reader)
Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, mentions of MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @whimsicalrogers
➥ series masterlist
summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.
~
When you opened your eyes, it was dark.
For a moment, you thought that maybe you’d gone blind, but you could just barely make out the shape of your hand in front of your face. There’d even been a split second where your heart stuttered, thinking you were buried in a box or something, but then you’d sat up. You were on a soft surface, and it didn’t take much longer to realize that it was a bed.
You couldn’t see anything, no matter how hard you stared or where you looked. It was all just dark, and with difficulty, you pushed yourself to your feet. Your body felt weighed down, almost like it was filled with sand, and you stood still for a moment, pressing your hand to your head. That gave you pause…and you sniffed.
The smell of blood hit your nose, and your lips parted, eyes widening.
You stumbled back, bumping into a wall, and a loud gasp escaped you. You stared ahead into nothing, eyes watering as you remembered watching your friends die one by one. Pietro was the first to go, dying for something as silly as trying to protect you. Wanda had died for even less, and Michelle… You struggled to breathe, recalling MJ’s last moments and how she used them to push you away.
You pressed your hands to your face, tears wetting your palms, and before you could stop yourself, a loud wailing noise climbed out of your throat. Your knees shook, and you were falling before you realized it. Your forehead touched the floor as you cried, and you wanted to convince yourself that it was all a nightmare.
It had to be.
You had to be still in the car, Pietro behind the wheel as he argued with Wanda, MJ listening to whatever songs she had on her phone. You had to still be asleep, your mind coming up with the most horrific nightmare possible. That had to be the truth, but everything felt too real.
Your skin felt too dirty, the stench of dried blood was too strong, your ankle ached too much. All the signs pointed to otherwise, that this was your reality, and you cried harder. You couldn’t see a thing, didn’t even know where you were, and you didn’t know what to do. Those cops had to have brought you here, and you wondered why.
They’d killed your friends like it was nothing, had talked about their bodies like they were nothing, and it made your chest clench painfully. You didn’t understand why they did that, what was going on, and more importantly…why you? Your friends had been taken from you so violently, and you were still alive, and you didn’t know why.
There was too much going on in your head, and you fought to remember everything that had happened. You remembered the blond one, the scary one, saying something to Peter. Peter was the one who’d looked nice…sweet. He’d been friendly, and at the time, you’d thought he was a little too friendly, but you’d written it off. Now…you wished that you hadn’t.
Are you taking her or not?
That was what he’d said, and the words had only served to confuse you then, but now you understood. He had taken you. Where? Only God knew, but you were fighting with the fact that you were now a statistic. You’d been taken, by cops no less, and that fact only made you cry more. Any chance of you getting out of here seemed laughable because these guys were professionals.
You felt cold, and you knew it had nothing to do with the temperature in the room. You peeled your eyes open and kept them open, because every time you closed them, all you saw was your friends. Bloody and lifeless. It made your stomach turn, and you fought the urge to be sick. You didn’t have the strength to return to the bed, and so you remained on the floor, cold and afraid and crying so much it made your throat hurt.
You surmised that you drifted in and out of consciousness, not because you could even relax enough to find sleep, but more so out of exhaustion than anything. Your body had seen and dealt with too much in such a short amount of time that it took it upon itself to try and heal.
The next time you peeled your eyes open, you could see light.
It was only a crack of light, and it looked too far up to make sense. You didn’t even know what you were looking at at first, but then you sat up, and your lips parted. The light was coming from beneath a door…at the top of stairs, and you trembled.
You were in a basement.
You could feel yourself shaking at the realization, and you forced yourself to your feet. You tripped a few times going up the stairs, stumbling to the door, and the sound you made was loud. You banged on it, searching the wood for the handle before frantically pulling and twisting.
“Hello?”
Your voice croaked at first, but the more you yelled, the stronger it became.
“Hello?” you screamed, banging on the door. “Is anyone there?”
When only silence met you, you could feel your eyes watering again, and you squeezed them shut. Your chest twisted painfully, and you wanted to break down again, but you thought about MJ and how much she’d tease you for being so weak. Taking a deep breath, you sniffed and hit the door again, standing this time as you kicked it too.
“Let me out!”
Your arms felt so weak, and there was no telling how long you’d been down here. The door shook from the force of your assault, and you wouldn’t stop hitting it, your vision starting to blur.
“Let me out, let me out,” you shrieked.
Your hands were starting to hurt, and you couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over. When it became too much, you stopped, falling to the stairs and sitting down. Your chest heaved, and loud choking sounds left your throat as you dropped your head into your hands. You were trying so hard not to panic, but it was hard. You didn’t know where you were nor why this had happened, and you dropped your hands with a frown.
You blinked at the light coming from beneath the door…
…and the way it broke up, now.
It took a moment for you to realize that someone was standing there, shoes in the middle of the door, and you sharply inhaled. You leaned over, doing your best to look underneath, but all you could see was their shoes.
“Hello?” you choked out.
They didn’t reply, and you blinked back tears.
“I don’t… I didn’t do anything,” you told them. “I don’t know why I’m here, but I didn’t do anything.”
Again, silence was all that met you, and you started crying again.
“Please, let me out…”
They started moving away at that, and you cried harder. You didn’t know who they were nor why they pretended not to hear you, and you stared at their shoes. At the way they seemed to hesitate in leaving, and you blinked, your tears halting.
“Peter…?”
The person stopped completely, and you moved closer to the door, frantically trying to reach underneath.
“Peter?” you questioned louder. “Peter, please! Let me out!”
You pushed your fingers underneath the door, wiggling them.
“I won’t say anything, I swear I won’t,” you cried. “Please, just let me out.”
Your words seemed to fall on deaf ears, and to your detriment, someone stepped beside Peter. There was a hushed exchange of words before they both walked away, and you were alone again. You let your head drop to the step, harsh sobs leaving you, and that was where you remained.
“Oh dear.”
There was someone standing over you the next time you woke up. A woman. You hadn’t even heard the door open, and when you craned your head, you focused your shaky vision on her. You felt so weak, dirtier than you did the last time you woke up, and with a frown, you realized why. The smell of urine was strong, and again, you wondered how long you’d been down here.
Her brown hair brushed over her shoulders as she leaned down to grab your hands. Her eyes held something like sympathy as she helped you stand, and you winced, regretting the night you’d spent sleeping on the stairs. It took you longer than you cared to admit that a light was on, allowing you to see, and you blinked at it as it hung from the ceiling, a string beside it.
Of course, you wouldn’t have known it was there.
It was dark, and you’d never been here before.
The strange woman helped you down the stairs, slowly and with patience. You couldn’t take your eyes off of her, both relieved and fearful of her presence. She was a woman, yes, but that didn’t guarantee anything. Still, she was kind, and she didn’t say anything about the way you’d soiled yourself. You glanced away, and the action forced you to really take in the basement.
It was nice, but just nice enough to not be considered inhumane. The twin bed was a dark wood and looked like something you’d see at Badcock. There was a large rug on the floor beside it, and a door in front of it that you hadn’t even noticed. The rest of the room was bear with plain white walls. The unknown woman led you to that door, and you watched with wide eyes as she reached for the key around her neck.
When she unlocked it, it revealed a bathroom.
“You’ll need to wash up,” she told you, moving towards the tub and running some water. “Clean yourself very good.”
Her tone and her words had you looking at her again.
“Will I get to leave?”
Your tone was hopeful, and the look she gave you had you deflating. She pressed her lips together, seeming to think over her words carefully.
“This room, maybe. If everything goes well…”
You didn’t understand, and she was helping you peel your clothes off of you before you could voice your confusion. You couldn’t even find it in you to be embarrassed or shy. You’d witnessed your friends dying and had been locked up in some basement for God knows how long. Some woman helping you to undress so that you could clean yourself was the least of your concerns.
You hissed when you sank into the hot water, eyes watering at how quickly it took on a pink hue.
“My name’s Jane,” she eventually told you, helping you scrub.
You looked at her, drinking her in and repeating her name to yourself.
“Jane.”
She nodded, and you looked at the water again.
You had so many questions, but you didn’t know where to start. Why were you here? Why had they killed your friends? Who was she and could you trust her? You decided to focus on the more important one.
“What do you mean I might get to leave this room?”
Jane softly exhaled, running you some more bath water after draining the filthy batch.
“If you want to leave this room, you’ll need to get it together,” she whispered.
Her harsh words didn’t match her soft tone, and your frown deepened. She looked you over with a frown of her own, pulling her lip between her teeth.
“No more of that crying and screaming and banging like you’ve been doing…”
Your eyes widened, and you sat up.
“You heard that?” you asked in a small voice.
“The whole house could hear it,” she answered.
Your embarrassment was taken over by confusion.
The whole house.
You wondered if that was just exaggerated language on her part or if you really were in a house full of people. If the latter was true, you wondered about your chances of escaping, and when you looked up, Jane’s eyes met yours.
“No more of that either.”
She continued before you could open your mouth.
“You’ll be seeing Steve today…”
The mention of the blond cop had you shuddering, and you held back tears.
“…and if he thinks you’re not ready, he’s going to send you right back down here.”
Your hand wrapped around her wrist at that. It wasn’t on purpose, but the thought of spending another day down here had your chest clenching in pain. She softly shushed you, reaching for your hand and gently prying it off of her.
“Hey, hey,” she softly started, taking your hands. “It’s going to be okay. He just… If he thinks you might be a danger to anyone else or if you’ll try to escape the second you step outside, he’s going to leave you down here.”
You hadn’t meant to start crying again, but the whole thing was overwhelming.
You’d been on a nice road trip with your friends, and now you would be trying to appeal yourself to some insane man just so he’d treat you like something a little better than a dog. Jane shushed you again as you wailed, head falling, and you shook your head.
“You have to be good, okay? If you’re good, he’ll let you out, and that…that’s better than being down here…”
It wasn’t appealing to you, and you leaned your forehead against the side of the tub.
“Trust me,” she whispered, stroking your head. “Peter is sweet. He…he’s much nicer than the others.”
At the mention of him, you lifted your head with a frown. You had an inkling of why you were here as you processed her words, holding her gaze, but you fought it. No. You didn’t want to accept that, and you shook your head.
“What does that have to do with me…?”
She sadly tilted her head at you.
“He’ll be good to you.”
You blinked again, more tears kissing your eyes, and you pulled away from her. You could feel your stomach twisting, almost painfully, and you pressed your hands to your mouth. You wanted to ask her plainly why you were here, but you couldn’t find the strength. You were scared that if you opened your mouth, anything left in your stomach would come out.
Jane seemed to read it on your face though.
“Peter chose you,” she quietly continued, resuming in dragging the cloth over your skin. “You’re his, now.”
Your vision swam at that, and you reached for the edge of the tub. More tears fell, and your head spun. He chose you? You were his now? As self-explanatory as the words were, you were having the hardest time making sense of them. It was 2023, and Jane was speaking like it was centuries ago instead. Peter would be good to you? What exactly did that mean when you were a victim of kidnapping?
For the first time since that day, you felt anger flare up, but then you looked at Jane.
Really looked at her.
She was beautiful, no doubt about it, but there was something in her face and eyes that spoke to a life of trauma. There was a dimness in her eyes that told you she didn’t believe what she was saying, but more so she accepted what she was saying. That she accepted the reality that would be yours too, and your face fell.
“Were you chosen too?”
Your question seemed to have taken her by surprise, and even though it took her a long time to answer, her brief silence was answer enough. She nodded just as you both heard the door open, and your eyes widened, jumping at the sound. Jane quickly rose to her feet, and her change in demeanor was evident. She gestured for you to stay, and you watched her swiftly walk out of the bathroom.
“Is she ready?”
You recognized the voice, shrinking in on yourself as Jane replied. When she returned, she had a simple white dress in her hand. She urged you to get out as she drained the tub, quickly pulling the dress over you. As she straightened it, she quietly spoke to you.
“Remember what I said,” she whispered.
When she guided you out of the bathroom, your worst fears were confirmed.
Steve, that intimidating blond, stood just at the bottom of the stairs. He wasn’t alone, and you weren’t prepared for that. You choked up at the sight of them both, recognizing the brunette as the one who’d killed Wanda. Jane’s hand was on your arm, guiding you, and regretfully keeping you upright. Your vision had started swaying before you knew it, and you fought to look better than you felt.
You couldn’t hold either of their gazes, your own lowering as it focused on the floor.
You heard heavy footsteps near you, and you shook.
None of this felt real. None of it, and you squeezed your eyes shut. You were sure that your face looked like shit with how much you’d been crying, but you didn’t think you could’ve stopped even if you wanted to. The closer he came, the more you shook, and you flinched when his hand roughly gripped your chin. He forced you to look at him, and your lips trembled.
His eyes were so blue and cold, and they didn’t match the faux sweet smile on his pink lips. He studied your face for what felt like too long, drinking you in, and you didn’t know what to think of it when he hummed. His thumb brushed your skin, and disgust rolled in your stomach. These were the same hands that had killed Pietro, and the thought made you want to cry again.
“Peter has good taste,” he finally breathed, straightening and stepping back. “Bring her up.”
You didn’t know how to react to that, but the brunette did, looking at Steve with a deep frown.
“Already? She’s only been down here for three days…”
His words shocked you, and your eyes widened. Three days? It had been three days since…? You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the thought, eyes watering again. No wonder you felt so weak, no wonder you’d soiled yourself, no wonder you felt like you were going even more crazy than you already had when you watched them kill your friends.
Three days.
You swayed at the thought just as the unnamed male continued.
“You left Nat down here for three and a half months.”
He almost seemed to spit the words out, and the knowledge that there was another woman here, another poor unfortunate soul sharing your fate, made you queasy. It really seemed like there was quite literally a whole house of people here, and you tearfully wondered just how many women were here.
Steve turned to him with a wry smile.
“Well, she’s not Nat,” he told him. “She’s weak.”
The words had you wincing…because they were true. You glanced away, unable to stop a few tears from spilling over.
“Another day, and I’m convinced she’ll bite off her own tongue to choke on, and then all of this will have been for nothing.”
By ‘all of this’, he meant the murder of your friends, no doubt.
“Look at her Buck,” the blond chuckled, glancing at you. “She’s shaking.”
He reached out to tap your chin.
“Poor thing. Peter really knows how to pick ‘em,” he mused, dragging his eyes over you, and you hated it. “…because she’s perfect for him.”
He nodded at the brunette, Buck, and the other man came towards you with a dark scarf. You trembled as he tied it over your face, and Jane shushed you when you started crying again.
“Take her upstairs, Jane. Bucky will be right behind you.”
That sounded like more of a threat than a simple statement, and it took a long time for Jane to get you to move your feet.
You ripped the blindfold off, spinning around just as the door shut and locked behind you. You stared at it before reaching out to pull on the handle with no such luck. You could hear Jane’s footsteps fading, and if you listened hard enough, you could hear other feminine voices down the hall mingling with hers.
You took a step back from the door, staring at it with dread before finally turning around.
The room that met you was nice. Not necessarily small, but modest, and it was prettier than any room you’d ever been in. You didn’t grow up with money, and wherever Peter and his…friends lived, they lived well. You bitterly wondered if they earned their living by kidnapping and transporting unsuspecting women. However, if that were true, you wouldn’t have the memory of Wanda and MJ’s lifeless bodies in your mind.
You touched your white dress with trembling fingers, looking around the room with tearful eyes. You were so tired of crying, but you couldn’t stop. None of this made sense, and it seemed every hour you had to remind yourself that this wasn’t a nightmare.
You’d really been kidnapped and given to some man like a gift instead of a person.
Your chest hurt, and with unsteady feet, you moved further into the room. You took note of the way it was furnished, of how homey it felt, and you were reminded of Jane’s words, of how ‘nice’ Peter was compared to the rest. A lot of thought had gone into the room, but it only reminded you of a golden cage. You felt frozen…until your eyes landed on the window.
You ran to it, but disappointment stopped you in your tracks.
The bars on the outside of the window were visible through the opening in the curtains, and you backed up until the back of your legs hit the bed. You didn’t sit so much as collapsed, falling onto the bed with a loud sob. The pretty room became blurry, and you twisted your fingers into the white fabric of your gown.
This couldn’t be real.
It couldn’t be.
You had to get out of here, but then you thought about Steve’s words. You recalled the mocking tone of his voice as he called you weak, and the way defeat seemed to surround you at the truth in his words. You thought about Nat, about a woman you had never met, and how she had lasted three and a half months before finally…breaking? Is that what you were? Broken?
Had the vile murder of your friends broken you?
Was that why Steve had waved you off as nothing more than a broken and docile girl perfect for Peter?
You didn’t even know how you’d go about getting out of here, the thought overwhelming you so much, but you had to. You had to get help, and help the other women here, and get justice for your friends. You just… You didn’t know how, and tears ran down your face. Wanda always knew what to do in tough situations, and you desperately wished you could ask her what to do.
…but she was gone.
…and she wasn’t coming back.
That thought had you crawling further onto the bed, laying down and pressing your face into the pillows. Your head started throbbing almost immediately, a sign that you were crying way too much, but it also told you that you needed to eat something. As if someone was reading your mind, you heard a noise, it startled you into silence, and you hurriedly sat up.
You stared at the plate of food that had been slipped under your door, the opening underneath just big enough. You hadn’t noticed it at first, and you hurried towards it, ignoring the food and sticking your face against the opening. You could only see just enough to make out someone lower legs should they walk by. At the moment, the hallway was empty, and you sat back with a frown.
Your eyes landed on the food, unmoved by how good it looked, only picking at it and nibbling. Despite how little food you’d had in the past few days, your stomach just wouldn’t settle. You knew if you wanted to escape, you’d need all the strength you could get, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to eat much, and before you knew it, you were crying again.
You scooted back until your back met the bed, and you leaned your head against it, softly crying into your hands.
#dark!peter parker#dark!peter Parker x reader#peter parker#peter parker x reader#dark peter parker#marvel fic#marvel fanfiction#peter parker imagine#cop!au
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Fool, Hopelessly in Love
Minho x Reader (fem.) Genre: Brother’s Bestfriend au!, Angst, Romance, unrequited love, slow-burn, slightly NSFW (mdni) Warnings: mentions of cheating, drinking, cursing, blood, physical violence, somewhat proofread WC: 12.7k A/N: raise your hand if you needed a pining lee know fic 🙋♀️ Feedback is always welcome, enjoy! ── MASTERLIST
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Lee Minho was an ordinary man. Minus the occasional dangers of his profession, he thought of himself as just an average guy leading a typical life. He was quiet and composed, enjoying his solitude, yet loved goofing off and letting loose with his closest friends. Again, despite the challenges of his job as a cop that he found fulfillment in, Minho was perfectly ordinary.
But hidden deep inside was a secret he had kept locked away for what seemed like forever.
Lee Minho was a fool, hopelessly in love.
He hadn’t anticipated falling for her.
No.
Never in a million years.
He wasn’t aware he’d fall this hard. The aching feeling in his heart intensified just at her presence, drawn to her like a moth to a flame, unknown to anyone but himself.
Yet all he could do was pretend.
After all, she was his best friend’s little sister.
It hadn’t always been like this. Despite knowing her for more than a decade, he had never felt such an overwhelming pull to her before.
How was it possible that now, after all this time, he was painfully aware of these newfound feelings?
Her brother, was his first and only friend in high school. The then-sixteen year old had transferred in the middle of the semester, recently losing his mother, and had come to live with his uncle and aunt. He was a loner for the most part, yet by the second week of school he had gained a reputation for being blunt and rude, a cold demeanor displayed by a teenager who was still mourning. Still, the class mood maker, who was absent for the two weeks Minho had been there, due to a sports injury, smiled brightly in front of him. Knocking on the desk Minho had laid on with head buried in his arms.
“So you’re Lee Minho huh? Hey, I’m Seo Changbin!”
His voice was loud, yet Minho never understood why he had smiled at him. Even approached him, when he was hobbling around the school and had lots of school work he had to catch up on.
But slowly they became close. Changbin would persistently stay next to him, well aware that Minho didn’t want him there. The sound of Changbin’s lunch tray clattering across from him would become something he became used to. And suddenly he found himself laughing, opening up to something he didn’t know he needed. A friend.
By the time the semester ended they were best friends. The notorious reputation he earned, long gone. They played basketball, went on trips, hung out at each other’s places for hours, fingers working against game controllers in frenzy.
That’s how Minho met her. His best friend’s sister.
Y/N was only two years younger than they were. The siblings were always bickering. Their teasing and pranks were things that stretched even into their adulthood. But still, anyone could tell they were close. Even at fourteen, Y/N’s voice rang out loudly, matching her brother’s, if not even louder.
When Minho introduced himself, she quipped, “Ah, so you’re Grumpy Minho from Bin’s class,” earning a nudge from her flustered mother.
Their mother, a warm and kind woman, who had been acquainted with Minho’s aunt, understood the tragedy he had endured before living in this town. Initially uncomfortable with the sad look in her gaze, Minho gradually grew accustomed to her kindness. She welcomed him into their family, treating him like a second son and providing the love and support he had lost.
As the years passed, Minho’s bond with the Seo siblings deepened through shared experiences and countless hours spent together. By the time they graduated from high school, Minho had become a protective figure in Y/N’s life, someone she could rely on when her brother couldn’t be there.
And a few years later, once Minho graduated from the police academy, Y/N proudly declared she would marry him someday, eliciting chuckles and teasing from those around them. He was too good for her, they scoffed. Her mother, though, secretly wished it would come true, hoping Minho would become a permanent part of their family.
They all laughed.
Only a handful of years ago, Minho, who laughed at such a ridiculous thing, was now at a loss for words.
What changed so drastically that she became someone who occupied his thoughts day and night? He found solace in her smile, joy in her laughter, and pain in her tears.
Probably that night.
The day before his promotion. The week after Changbin secured a full time position at the company he had been interning at.
It was also the day Y/N planned to officially introduce her boyfriend to them.
Her birthday.
It was her first attempt at bringing a romantic partner in front of her protective older brother and his equally overwhelming best friend. One was a gym enthusiast, the other a cop, easily intimidating for any suitor.
They made reservations for dinner and drinks at an upscale venue later that evening to meet the man who supposedly made her feel special. But with so much to celebrate, the siblings decided to hit a club first. Though Minho’s promotion was not yet official, the occasion demanded dancing, laughter, and drinks. The birthday girl, initially beaming with joy, danced gracefully to the music. However, her mood shifted upon receiving a text from her boyfriend. He was busy at work and couldn’t step out, couldn’t make it to her birthday celebration. She returned to find the two older guys at the bar, masking her disappointment, though they could see right through her facade.
So they decided to distract her.
They continued drinking, dancing, and trying to lift Y/N’s spirits. Minho found himself back at the bar, navigating through the crowd when he accidentally collided with someone who looked eerily familiar. He squinted in disbelief, he’d only seen that face in pictures that Y/N shoved in his face, but he was sure it was that person. Minho’s face had contorted, and he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t who he thought it was. Perhaps the shots he downed were playing tricks on his mind. Changbin intervened, pulling him away, something about getting some fresh air. Minho nodded absently, stealing one last glance over his shoulder, but the familiar face had vanished from the bar.
The familiar face was outside, and Minho’s initial hunch proved correct.
All three of them stood in stunned silence as they witnessed Y/N’s boyfriend passionately kissing another girl by the club’s entrance. Changbin hesitated momentarily, glancing back and forth between Y/N, frozen in disbelief, and the scene unfolding before them. Like Minho, it took a moment for the realization to sink in for him as well. Y/N’s soft voice, barely audible over the bass of the loud club music, booming even outside, and the chatter around them, was enough to confirm their doubts.
“He wasn’t at work after all.” Her voice carried a mix of hurt and resignation.
Her boyfriend finally noticed them, his face going pale as he hastily pushed away the girl he was with. Who turned out to be a mutual friend, looking awkward and guilty. He stumbled over his words, attempting feeble excuses that neither Minho nor Changbin found convincing. His eyes darted nervously between them, fully aware that the two men were probably going to kick his ass.
Minho let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his temples as he stepped forward to restrain Changbin, whose fists were clenched and ready to strike. Y/N remained silent, her gaze fixed on her boyfriend, processing.
“Hey, I’m a cop…” Minho started, his tone cool and controlled, fully aware of the consequences of any altercation, especially the day before his promotion. And this loser was not worth it.
He glanced briefly at Changbin, silently urging him not to attack.
But before Changbin could respond, Y/N cut in sharply, her voice firm and decisive.
“Let’s go.” She said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
She turned on her heels and walked away, leaving her boyfriend standing there, stunned and calling after her futilely. But the boyfriend’s calls cut short, seeing the deathly glare Changbin had shot his way.
Minho sighed heavily, his frustration evident as he glanced back at the cheating man, who was now taking cautious steps backward, still shielding his cheating partner.
“Pathetic.” Minho muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief at the situation.
The Seo siblings found themselves seated in a humble hole-in-the-wall bar, far from the upscale place they had originally planned to celebrate Y/N’s birthday. Despite its lack of glamour, the dimly lit bar became the perfect place where they could gather their thoughts.
Changbin struggled to find words that could provide comfort or solace, as he sat in the stool next to his quiet sister. His initial attempts were drowned out by the bitter taste of anger and disappointment. But each time he began to speak out in a string of curses, Minho’s subtle gestures urged him to hold back, a silent reminder to tread carefully.
“Ugh, let’s just drink.” Changbin finally muttered, breaking the heavy silence that hung over them.
The brother-sister duo began drinking. Minho observed them quietly from his seat, knowing he would eventually need to ensure they got home safely. His gaze shifted between Changbin, visibly letting off steam with each drink, and Y/N, surprising him with her capacity to match her brother’s pace despite her usually lightweight tolerance.
Changbin had fallen first, his head landing with a dull thud against his folded arms on the bar counter. His shoulders rose and fell rhythmically with each breath. Meanwhile, Y/N swayed slightly in her seat, her elbows propped on the counter as she cupped her flushed face in her hands. Her eyes struggled to remain open, the effects of alcohol painting her cheeks with a noticeable tinge of red. When she spoke, her words slurred together in whispers that caught Minho’s attention. Frowning slightly, he leaned in closer, trying to decipher her drunken murmurs.
“Why can’t I find anyone decent?” She began questioning, turning towards Minho, who truly did not have any answers for her.
Minho listened intently as Y/N poured out her frustrations, her voice wavering with a mix of disappointment and vulnerability.
“I just want a good man who will treat me well.” She lamented, her glistening gaze searched his face for understanding.
“Before this cheating dog, there was the jerk who just wanted a fling. Before him was the thief. Even you laughed at the idea of marrying me.”
Minho had blinked back, suddenly caught off guard by her last sentence.
“Have you never seen me like that?” Her question hung in the air, heavy with implications that Minho suddenly struggled to process.
He continued to blink, big eyes taken aback by the unexpected turn of the conversation.
For a moment, silence enveloped them, broken only by the soft murmur of the bar and Changbin’s occasional sleepy shuffle on the other side of her. Y/N’s eyes bore into Minho’s, waiting for a response that he didn’t have.
“You are a good guy then.” She whispered finally, a fragile smile playing on her lips.
And she leaned in, her lips meeting his.
The man next to her stiffened. Wide eyes bore into the air behind her. His mind raced as Y/N’s lips brushed against his, a gentle press that sent a jolt through his entire being. Her warmth lingered on his lips even as she pulled back, her sheepish smile breaking the spell of their fleeting moment.
Before he could process what had just happened, Y/N slumped forward onto the bar counter with a heavy thud, the sound echoing in the quiet bar. Changbin stirred beside her, groggily lifting his head and scanning the scene with furrowed brows of confusion. Minho could feel his heart pounding in his chest, entire body igniting with a burning sensation.
“What’s wrong?” His best friend muttered, still a little drunk, a little sleep hazed.
Minho snapped out of his daze, still utterly at a loss for words.
The siblings had shown up hungover at his promotion ceremony, they had gotten so drunk to the point that Changbin only remembered bits and pieces of the previous night, while Y/N didn’t remember anything at all. Her genuinely puzzled expression left Minho feeling conflicted, uncertain of how to process the situation.
He couldn’t help but wonder if he should be relieved that she couldn’t remember, sparing her from embarrassment. Yet, another part of him wondered if he should have felt worried that she did something like that? What if it had been someone else?
Or maybe he should’ve been mad that he had to be the only one who knows what happened between them?
But ultimately, Minho did not want to confront it.
Instead he lied. Nothing stupid had happened.
Minho brushed off the incident as a drunken mistake, burying it deep within and keeping it hidden from everyone. Even her.
But then his mind wandered beyond his control, bringing up questions he never anticipated.
What did Y/N mean when she included him in the list of guys who hurt her?
Did she truly want to marry him back then?
Why did she kiss him?
The detective wracked his brains. The unanswered questions gnawed at Minho’s thoughts like an unsolved case. It replayed in his mind, each detail scrutinized for clues. Surely, part of her had to be aware she was kissing him and not someone else.
Her words, “You are a good guy,” echoed in his mind.
His eyes tracked her movements with a new intensity, questions at the tip of his tongue but never said aloud.
That’s probably how it started.
A slow time-lapse of his resolve breaking down, a gradual shift in his perception of her, something that seemed to have easily slipped under his radar.
He found himself looking for her, his eyes wandering until they landed on her. Each time he saw her, his mind replayed the moment. The soft of her lips, plush against his, the warmth of her smile afterward, and the sheepish glance she had given him before succumbing to unconsciousness.
He had smacked himself, shuddering for even remembering such details. Despite his efforts to push aside those memories, they persisted stubbornly, haunting him.
Then he woke up one night, stunned. Eyes darted from one end of his room to the other, his chest heaved with each panicked breath.
He had dreamt of her.
He had dreamt of kissing her.
And he had liked every second of it.
The sensation was so vivid, so real, that it lingered even in the darkness of his bedroom.
It doesn’t take much for a woman to get a man to notice her, even if it’s just from a drunken encounter.
Minho wrestled with himself, debating whether he should have just told her the truth when she asked the next day if she had done anything foolish.
But it was too late he concluded. He had already lied.
Instead, he made himself busy.
The new detective was commended for taking on so many new cases. To the outside world, he appeared focused and driven, but deep down, only Minho knew the real reason behind his relentless workload. It was his defense against thoughts of Y/N.
Against the memories of that kiss, the confusing emotions that followed, and the vivid dreams.
And for a while, his strategy seemed to work. He managed to avoid seeing Y/N frequently, although he had little energy left for socializing with anyone else at all.
Minho was becoming a fool, falling hopelessly in love.
There was a particular instance when she dropped by unexpectedly with coffee, and his new teammates couldn’t resist teasing him about whether she was his girlfriend. His response was unexpectedly sharp and loud, heavy with denial.
“Of course not! Never!”
It made her flinch, visibly taken aback.
“Geez, you don’t have to deny it that eagerly.” She retorted, rolling her eyes at him before turning to his team and introducing herself with a lighthearted smile.
If only she had known how much of his thoughts she had taken up.
Minho tried to convince himself out of those forbidden feelings til the very end.
But then he found himself smiling at her while she did something she always does. In that fleeting instance, he found her utterly endearing, cute even.
The realization hit him like a sudden wave, his smile fading as he stood frozen, eyes cast downward. It was as if his heart had sent a clear message to his entire being.
Accept it, you like her.
Everyone always talks about the five stages of grief, but what about the stages of secretly crushing on your best friend’s sister?
Then came anger.
His emotions finally boiled over one day when Y/N visited him unexpectedly on New Year’s Eve, insisting that he take a break from his relentless work schedule and join their celebrations. His outburst wasn’t just about her interrupting him, he knew it stemmed from the frustration and confusion he felt about his growing feelings for her. The emotions he shouldn’t have even felt to begin with.
Why was he the only one tormented by that damn kiss?
Why was he the only one dreaming of doing things to her that made him shudder just thinking about?
Was it even fair to blame her?
These questions gnawed at him, stirring up a storm of conflicting emotions that he struggled to contain.
In a moment of raw vulnerability, he lashed out, slamming his hands against her and the wall, unintentionally caging her between them. Y/N was stunned at his outburst, confused as to why he acted that way, worried even. Her concerned eyes darted between his shining gaze.
“I’m not supposed to feel like this.” It was a panicked mutter to himself.
The intensity of his emotions surprised him, and he quickly recoiled, realizing his eyes had lingered on her lips.
Afraid that he’d be the one to kiss her this time. Fully sober.
He pulled back abruptly, his fear palpable. The thought of doing something and crossing a line that he had been desperately trying to avoid, terrified him.
Y/N thought Minho’s outburst was because of stress from work, concerned that he was dealing with a particularly challenging or disturbing case.
She misunderstood. And he let her misunderstand.
Then he disappeared.
Well, attempted to disappear. Believing that some time away would help him sort out his feelings and make them fade, much like Y/N’s apparent teenage crush on him.
He was confident at one point that he would be able to overcome whatever disease he believed it to be. If he believed hard enough that he would convince himself that it wasn’t so.
But the dreams.
The damn dreams that often woke him up in the middle of the night, sweaty, ears and cheeks red and flushed, the painful tent in his pants. All make him groan, rubbing his face in his palms.
He had transferred to another city for a year to get away from the source that made him feel those emotions he’s never felt before, but once there and away from her, he did nothing but pine for her.
Alone in a city over, Minho had constantly prayed for those forbidden feelings to fade as quickly as they surfaced. But after crying to himself countless nights, feeling overwhelmed by the turmoil within him, the tug at his chest whenever he thought about her, the detective’s prayers changed.
He prayed she would be his.
That’s how this game of pretend began.
After returning back, Minho slipped back into his routine. As if the year apart hadn’t stirred and set his feelings for Y/N in stone. As if he hadn’t been pushed over the edge. Pretending that he hadn’t fully accepted the fact that he was probably in love with her.
He smiled and laughed as he always did. Changbin and him would hang out, catching up on everything he’s missed over the last year. He lied he had been well, that the city he was working in kept him so busy he didn’t have time to think.
Of course his thoughts were full of his best friend’s sister, but the detective would never admit that.
Throughout this charade, Minho often found himself searching for Y/N in crowded rooms or during quiet moments. In hopes he could simply observe her and take in his fill of her for the day.
Then one day, when he asked about her, Changbin casually mentioned that she was on a date with her boyfriend. Unlike the fleeting relationships Y/N had described before, this one seemed different.
This one stayed.
This one was a good man. ──────────────────────── Y/N had known almost instantly that she saw him as something more than just a brother figure. From the moment she met Minho, she teased him. A familiar sense of comfort lay over her whenever she was with him. At fourteen she didn’t know what that feeling was, concluding it was because he was someone she looked up to in some sense, much like she did with her own brother.
But when she began maturing, going from a fourteen-year-old who was busy fangirling over her favorite boy band, her eyes began opening up to the beautiful chapter of teenage love.
It started out as a crush. Her heart raced at the sight of her brother’s best friend, her cheeks flushed whenever Minho spoke to her. At seventeen, she convinced herself it was love, it had to be love. So when she realized that she would never be able to cross that line and get out of his blatant sister-zone, she was heartbroken. He was, after all, her first love.
First loves, however, often end up as stories scribbled in diaries or reminisced about in old age. The chapter of secretly loving Lee Minho closed by her college years. Or so she thought, because exactly on her twenty-second birthday she had kissed him. But the only problem was that the memory of it was all fuzzy.
If only Minho hadn’t abruptly chosen to leave and transfer, perhaps things would have unfolded differently. But that all remained unknown, probably in another storyline, another universe.
Y/N had a knack for falling for the wrong type of guys, the ones who effortlessly wielded charm and knew the right words to say.
A magnet for heartbreak, her friends would tease.
But everything changed when she met Han Jisung.
Han Jisung, a good man.
Their paths crossed at the cosmetics company where Jisung was in finances while Y/N worked in the marketing department. Initially, they didn’t cross paths, beyond sharing the same workplace. However, when Y/N’s team leader, responsible for a critical product launch, went into early labor, she was suddenly thrust into the role of temporary team leader. Finding herself collaborating with the finance department frequently.
Their relationship unfolded like a classic enemies-to-lovers tale. The ambitious temporary team leader, determined to ensure a flawless campaign, clashed with the detail-oriented man who managed budgets and processes. Despite the initial dislike, they found themselves drawn to each other, their feelings blossoming into a deep romance.
A year had passed since Minho left, a year of change. Suddenly, when Minho decided it was time to confront his feelings he had a painful realization.
It would remain a dream, a reality that that was unreachable and impossible.
Minho felt his heart race, cheeks flushed with a mixture of emotions he surprisingly managed to mask. Extending his hand, his smile concealed the turmoil within him, meeting Jisung’s steady gaze.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Han Jisung, Y/N’s boyfriend.”
Glancing at Y/N, Minho caught the nervous anticipation in her eyes, a silent plea for his acceptance. He realized how much his opinion mattered to her, how dear he was to her. Though not in the way he yearned for. Her eyes sparkled with admiration as she looked at Jisung, a gleam of affection shining through.
Returning the handshake, Minho nodded graciously, his voice smooth, even though he tasted bitterness with every word.
“Nice to meet you too.” He smiled, lying straight through his teeth.
Her brother’s best friend found himself hoping this new man was just another in the string of disappointments Y/N met. Like every other asshole she thought made her feel special. Minho wished she would discover him cheating, or catch him stealing from her. Anything that would rid him from her.
He wished she would cry because of this other man.
How selfish of him.
But he couldn’t help it.
Like he couldn’t help loving her no matter how much distance he put between them.
His yearning for her so painful that sometimes he found himself clutching at his chest. Sometimes crying in the solitude of his bedroom.
Minho had never thought he would love secretly.
No, an unrequited love story was something he had never imagined for himself. Especially with his best friend’s little sister.
Lee Minho was an attractive man. He had dated his fair share of women, was successful as a detective with a good income. It was obvious he’d be able to protect his woman. And no matter how much of a cold front he put up in public, he could love his woman madly.
He would love his woman madly, doing exactly that, with his walls of pretend built up so high no one was able to catch even a glimpse of it.
Except he didn’t think when he tucked that photo into his favorite book.
A captured moment of Y/N’s radiant smile, standing beside him with a bouquet of flowers held between them. He was sharply dressed in his police uniform, a proud symbol of his graduation from the academy. It was the photo that brought him solace during his time away. The one he couldn’t help but stare at every time he missed her that year he was away.
He was a cop, yet he had done a terrible job of hiding the picture.
So when he was caught, he was utterly surprised. His eyes widened as he froze at the entrance of his bedroom door, seeing his best friend holding up the photo in his hand, the open book it had been in, flat against the desk.
Changbin glanced at him, his furrowed brows relaxing, and in an instant, the detective understood exactly what that look meant.
Realization.
Changbin wasn’t the brightest in the box growing up, yet he was sharp enough to become an accountant at a very big company.
Only a handful of minutes ago, the accountant’s ocd got the best of him as he stared at the clutter on Minho’s desk. He rifled through to somewhat organize, instantly his eyes caught sight of a familiar paperback novel. Its spine bent at a particular page, the book hovered open slightly. Changbin had opened it, eyes immediately seeing the photo, fingers automatically picking it up. At first he smiled, thinking back to the day it was taken. He was probably the one who took it. He glanced down at the half open novel, eyes narrowing, wondering why the photo was in there in the first place. His free hand flipped through the pages to see if there were other photos in there from that day, or even of Minho’s other friends.
But there wasn’t.
So the best friend stared intently at the photo of his sister and Minho. At the creases at the corner, clearly there from constant holding. And then his mind went back to that one time right after Minho’s return. The night the two of them drank by the river.
Changbin had asked if Minho wanted to be set up on a date. Some of his female colleagues were constantly asking him if he had any single friends, so he thought of Minho. Weirdly, the detective was single even with that handsome face. Weirdly, he chose to be single. For a long time.
Changbin had poured some liquor into his glass, asking why he didn’t want to go on a blind date. Minho smiled and leaned back into his seat.
“I have someone I like.”
His alcohol induced confession, surprised his best friend, who blinked back a couple times, leaning in. With both elbows on the table, his brows raised.
“When? Who—Why didn’t you tell me?”
Minho let out a faint chuckle.
“She doesn’t know.”
Changbin frowned. There was a clear look of confusion in his eyes.
“Why? Are you not going to tell her—ah, dummy what are you waiting for?” His mind racked, awaiting for a valid excuse.
“She has a boyfriend. She’s happy.” It was evident that the smile on Minho’s face was a sad one, eyes staring at the bottle of alcohol set in the center.
Changbin silently sighed, quickly catching on. This was something he wasn’t able to help out with. Instead he cleared his throat, waving it off, attempting to quickly changing the topic.
“Wait—just tell me. Is she someone I know?”
Minho looked up. He blinked at the man across from him, before he sat up in his chair. Slowly he shook his head and he smiled.
“No.”
Even if it was for a second. He hesitated.
Of course once sober, Minho had cursed himself for confessing such a thing to his best friend. But neither of them had ever brought it up.
Until now.
Maybe a part of him wanted to get caught. Maybe he wanted someone to uncover this harbored secret and rid him of some of his suffering.
“She has a boyfriend. She’s happy… It was Y/N?”
Changbin’s voice broke the tense silence that hung heavily between them, his tone a mix of disbelief and shock.
With a resigned nod, Minho finally acknowledged the truth. There was no use in denying it anymore. Changbin had already pieced it together.
The two men fell silent, the room almost seemed as if it froze in time. Minho kept his eyes fixed on the ground, the weight of his unrequited love heavier than ever in that moment, while the best friend grappled with Minho’s hidden feelings out in the open.
Changbin, usually quick-witted, was unsure how to react. He suddenly wrestled with conflicting emotions. He wasn’t exactly thrilled that his best friend had romantic feelings for his sister, but at the same time he couldn’t bring himself to be angry either.
Should he feel betrayed? Upset or curious?
Should he ask “since when?”
Questions swirled in Changbin’s mind, yet he didn’t ask any of them. Instead a wave of sympathy washed over him and he stared at his silent friend with concern. Aware that Y/N was the woman who didn’t know, the one that had a boyfriend.
The one that was happy.
His friend was simply a fool, hopelessly in love.
Finally breaking the silence, Changbin suggested quietly, “Let’s get a drink.”
Minho looked up, surprise flickering across his features at the unexpected invitation. Changbin turned away from him, returning the photo to its place between the book’s pages. With deliberate movements, he placed the closed book back to the place he found it. After his best friend had learned of Minho’s well kept secret, the detective hoped a weight would lift from his shoulders, that he would no longer need to wear a constant mask of smiles. Yet, he found himself more conflicted than ever.
Y/N had gushed about her boyfriend. The one that made her laugh, beam with joy.
The one that made her happy.
The detective would nod along as she told him about something funny her boyfriend did, as if his knuckles hadn’t grown white from the extremely tight ball of his fists he made. He would reach over with a smile and ruffle her hair. Pretending that he wasn’t just thinking about enveloping her pretty lips in his so he didn’t need to hear her talk about another man.
But instead he sighed.
“Enough.” He murmured softly, his eyes were dark with emotions she couldn’t quite grasp.
He turned away, attempting to busy himself, while she pouted, unaware of the turmoil within him.
And just like that another season had passed. Her brother’s best friend continued to bury his secret deep inside.
────────────────────────
The summer air hung heavy as Minho clicked away at his desk, ignoring his team’s complaints about the heat. It was only before leaving that he was summoned to an emergency meeting about a suspect.
Minho was assigned to apprehend the man. But suddenly the youngest detective on the team found himself in the middle of a chase. And although Minho and his partner had eventually managed to tackle the suspect to the ground, the young detective groaned after the heated altercation they had. The sudden scuffle that had ensued before he managed to pin the suspect to the ground, hands cuffed behind the flailing and cursing man’s back.
“You’re bleeding.” His partner pointed out, concern etched in his eyes as he gestured to Minho’s forehead.
“Huh?” Minho touched the stinging wound, feeling the wetness of blood on his fingertips. He shrugged saying it was nothing.
“You sure you’re okay?”
The detective shakes it off as he nodded.
“I’m good.”
Except he wasn’t, and his legs buckled under him, his vision grew hazy as he fell to the ground.
Y/N smoothed her lipstick, preparing for a date she had spent too long getting ready for. Sighing at the mess around her she mentally groaned. A problem future Y/N would have to deal with, she concluded.
As she stepped outside, her phone buzzed with Changbin’s name. The younger sister narrowed her eyes wondering what he wanted. He was at a conference in the next town over, surely there wasn’t anything he would have needed her for. But immediately after picking up she was taken aback by her brother’s urgent voice.
“Where are you!”
“I’m on my way out. Why?” Locking the door, she started walking out.
“Get to the hospital now! Minho is hurt.”
Her brother’s words made her falter, eyes staring into the night.
“H-Hospital?” She repeated in a shout, looking around to halt a taxi.
“Yeah, he got hurt on duty. They called me as his emergency contact.” Changbin’s voice is laced with worry.
Y/N begins to freak out, thoughts conjuring up the worst scenarios. With fear and worry coursing through her, she managed to hail a taxi. Her heart raced as the cab sped through the night. When she arrived breathlessly, she began running through the hospital corridors until she found the front desk.
“L-Lee Minho. Where is he?”
It isn’t until she’s drawing the curtains back to reveal a wide awake Minho, that she almost melts with her sigh of relief. He’s sitting on the hospital bed with his feet on the ground, a look of annoyance etched across his face. But upon seeing her sudden figure staring at him with concern, he’s stunned.
He had swore he was okay, the nurses had said he only had a concussion, yet they wouldn’t allow him to leave on his own. He insisted he was fine, that he’s been hurt even worse before, that it was nothing. But still, they didn’t sign off on his discharge. His teammates were too busy with the suspect, his emergency contacts either not picking up or out of town. He had fully expected to spend the night here, or at least be kept here until they thought he was fine to leave on his own. But seeing Y/N’s distraught form sliding into the open chair as she caught her breath, almost had his own breath hitch.
“What are you doing here?” He finally asked, puzzled.
Glaring at him, Y/N finally stood and approached, eyes scanning his injuries. There was a wound on his forehead covered by the dressing of bandages, a red gash on his jaw, blood on his shirt and bandaids on his forearm. Clear signs of a scuffle he didn’t want her to know about. He stiffened under her hot gaze, his next words stuck in his throat.
“I heard you were fighting the nurses to leave. How can a grown man not listen to the professionals?” Her voice is stern.
“I’m fin—”
“No you’re not.” She cuts him off.
Her finger pushed back the hair that fell over his bandaged forehead, trying to take a closer look. He grips at the sheet of the bed, sucking in a breath.
“Does it hurt?” Worry tinged in her words.
Minho can’t help but break into a smile at the softness of her tone, as if seconds ago she wasn’t scolding him. He brushed away her hand.
“It doesn’t anymore. I’m actually more embarrassed that I passed out on the streets.” He laughed, trying to dismiss her concern.
“I’m fine, I promise.” He stated, as he looked back up at her.
But, once again, he stumbles as he takes a stand. This time she caught him, grabbing his torso to steady him before shooting him another glare.
“Just a little light-headed.” He grinned sheepishly, slowly allowing her to throw his arm around her shoulder for support.
Minho felt exhaustion wash over him as they settled into the back seat of the cab. Despite waking up in the hospital bed not too long ago, he now felt the urge to sleep again. His head swayed momentarily before he leaned against Y/N’s shoulder.
Just for now. He told himself, his eyes closing.
Y/N glanced down at him, though his eyes were closed, he was still awake, his slightly furrowed brows revealing his discomfort. She swallowed, wondering whose heart was beating so fast, hers or his?
Helping him back to his apartment was easier than she expected. Inside, she gently settled him on the couch and placed her belongings on the coffee table.
“I’m fine now. You can head back.” Minho insisted, noticing her taking off her jacket and rolling up her sleeves.
Ignoring his protests, she proceeded with her plan. Through tired eyes, the older man watched as she moved effortlessly around his apartment, reheating a pot of soup on the stove before bringing him a glass of water, which he gulped down quickly. And then she’s swiftly taking it back. The injured man observed her from his spot, soft gaze taking in the sight of her doing something so simple, yet his heart clenched. His watching gaze is interrupted by the soft vibrating sound of her phone. His eyes flickered to the device on the coffee table, his throat suddenly feeling dry as her boyfriend’s name flashed across the screen with another missed call.
The boyfriend she had forgotten all about.
Once again, Minho tried to convince her to leave, but she persisted. She helped him out of his jacket, placing it neatly on a nearby chair, then handed him an ice pack wrapped in a towel for his bruising jaw.
“Press.” She instructed firmly, and he complied.
A comfortable silence settled between them. And sometime after he felt his eyelids getting heavy.
Minho wasn’t sure when he had drifted off to sleep again, but when he woke up in the early hours of the morning, he was still dressed in last night’s clothes, feeling his head still ache faintly. The coffee table was clean of last night’s contents, her belongings, the bowl of soup, and the make-shift ice pack were gone. Just like she was.
Heading to the kitchen for another glass of water, his eyes caught sight of a note on the fridge.
Medicine on the counter. Bin should be visiting this afternoon. Take it easy and DO NOT WORK!
He couldn’t help but smile at the familiar messy handwriting, sticking the note back onto the fridge before pouring himself a glass of water.
Han Jisung had come to realize, sometime into their relationship, that Y/N’s eyes didn’t light up for him the way they did when she spoke about Minho.
Initially, he thought Minho was just a brotherly figure to her, but he started noticing subtle gestures. The way the so-called brother figure would hold his hand over the corner of a table when she bent down to pick up whatever she dropped. The way his gaze would follow her across the room, full of emotions he would mask as quick as they emerged, were far from brotherly.
She blew off their date. And this wasn’t the first time.
Jisung wanted to ask her to move in with him last night, to replace the small corner of her heart where Minho unknowingly seemed to reside, with himself. He wanted to end this one-sided battle with the detective. But she had stood him up.
She was sitting across from him, yet her mind was on Minho, glancing back at her phone to see if the injured detective had gotten up, had read her messages. Any word from him that would’ve calmed her mind.
There was always a reasonable excuse. Just like this excuse she gave him. Minho was injured, and there wasn’t anyone else to help besides herself. She apologized profusely. But her boyfriend couldn’t shake the memory of his unanswered calls, and then the message she sent after finally leaving Minho’s place at dawn. He thought back to the lingering gazes his girlfriend had.
“You love him.” Jisung finally said, the conclusion painfully obvious to him.
It was such an easy connection to make, yet she stared back at him slightly taken aback by the directness of his statement.
He watched as her expression contorted to a frown.
“What are you talking about?” Y/N’s fingers tug at his arm across the table.
He sighed, dropping his head briefly before meeting her eyes, holding back the words he wanted to say. Instead, he withdrew his arm.
“You love Detective Lee. Your brother’s best friend.”
The accusation seemed absurd to her, and her brows furrowed into a deeper frown. How could she love Minho.
How could she still love Minho?
There was no way. She cared for him, certainly… but love? However, when she tried to speak, the words of refusal didn’t come out. The denial she wanted to voice remained stuck on her tongue.
She couldn’t say anything against it. And her eyes widened in realization.
The boyfriend watched as the truth dawned on her, the emotions she thought she had locked up and thrown away the key to long ago, flooding her. Shock and a lingering fearfulness filled her gaze.
Jisung attempted to smile, but of course he couldn’t bring himself to be happy, he’d be crazy if he did. He gently grasps her hands, guiding her out of her thoughts, noticing the tears that had welled up unknowingly, shimmering under the lights.
“No. I-I don’t. Jisung-I…” Y/N attempted to deny it, to shake off this unsettling feeling, but she failed.
She couldn’t even lie.
“It’s okay.” He muttered gently.
Jisung didn’t expect to have gotten in the way of something that ran so deep, even though she herself wasn’t aware of it. He felt quite foolish, but surprisingly he didn’t regret it, falling for Y/N.
And another beautiful chapter of her life had ended just like that. ──────────────────────── Changbin watched his sister sigh once again, her fingers absently stirring the creamer into her coffee. Her mind seemed far away, lost in her thoughts.
Y/N had been like this for most of the past couple of weeks, though it wasn’t until recently that Changbin, usually not very observant, began to take notice. Their mother would ask her a question, snapping her out of her worries momentarily, her frown smoothing into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
The older brother sensed that something was amiss with her. Her behavior had been unusual, especially when it came to her boyfriend. Whenever he tried to ask probing questions, she deflected or shut down the conversation entirely. He couldn’t shake the feeling that her boyfriend was somehow involved. Changbin convinced himself that the asshole had done something.
His suspicions were confirmed a month later when Changbin spotted Jisung out with another person, clearly on a date. Normally composed, Changbin found himself reacting in a way that he probably shouldn’t have, resulting in a trip to the police station.
Sure, the brother was the type to use his fists first, and his typically level-headed best friend wasn’t there to restrain him either. But Minho did not see Y/N’s boyfriend leaning over to press a small kiss onto whoever he was with. The confrontation left both Changbin and Jisung bruised and battered.
So there Seo Changbin sat, surrounded by an officer, who glanced back and forth between him and the other man, both marked with bruises and cuts from their altercation. At one point, Changbin had even been on the other side of those bars, though Jisung had steadfastly refused to press any charges.
Minho practically sprinted up the stairs, alerted by a call from an officer who recognized Changbin as his best friend. When he arrived at the holding area, Minho took in the scene before him with a sharp inhale, surprised by what he saw. But before he could even begin to ask what the hell had happened, Y/N’s voice cut through the tension.
“What did you do?” Her voice crackled with anger as she strode towards the now group of four men.
Changbin sighed inwardly, shooting a glare at Jisung. He was certain Jisung had been the one to call her.
“You didn’t tell them?” Jisung raised an eyebrow, a red bruise marring his cheek, causing Y/N to grimace in a mix of guilt and embarrassment.
“I didn’t. I’m sorry.” She shook her head apologetically.
Changbin frowned deeply, casting a bewildered look between the two of them.
“You two actually broke up?!” His exclamation made Minho clench his fists at his sides, his eyes widening even more as another piece of the puzzle fell into place.
The ex boyfriend had admitted to the breakup when Changbin had grabbed his collar earlier, but at the time, Changbin hadn’t believed him. “Cheating bastards will say anything to make excuses”, he had spat out then.
Now, though, the older brother found himself grappling with the reality of it all, followed by a heavy dose of embarrassment.
The officer finally cleared his throat, directing a pointed look at the detective, bringing Minho out of his thoughts.
“This appears to be a personal matter. Since Mr. Han has decided not to press charges, I suggest you resolve this among yourselves.” The officer sighed, returning to the paperwork that awaited him.
“Thank you, Officer Kim.” Minho finally spoke up, nodding gratefully at his colleague, who responded with a thumbs-up before refocusing on his duties.
For the past three months, Y/N had wrestled with her thoughts. In the solitude of her bedroom, she would give herself a pep talk. Each night, she lay beneath her sheets, urging herself to muster the courage to confess to Minho. Yet, every morning, as the sun rose, she found herself backing away, consumed by doubt.
It was an endless cycle that would’ve continued if she hadn’t received the stressful call from Jisung, the ex boyfriend sighing into the phone as he informed her of what had happened. There was only one reason she hadn’t disclosed the breakup to her brother or his best friend.
It was pretty obvious, she had no excuse.
Jisung was a good guy. He was always going to be a good guy. Even the way he broke up with her was the coolest way she had ever heard.
What would she say when Changbin inevitably asked about their split?
She feared she might confess everything. Her emotions, her thoughts, her lingering gazes, everything that tied back to Lee Minho, his best friend.
So she hid it, hoping to pass it off as lovers drifting apart or becoming too busy for each other. But as she watched her swollen-lipped brother and bruising ex boyfriend exit the station, regret washed over her. She realized she should have come clean sooner. At least to her older brother who had always been protective of her in his own way.
The weight of it all suddenly felt heavier than ever before.
Changbin might have been one to always jump to conclusions before hearing any side of any story, but he wasn’t shameless to not accept his mistakes. He bowed his head in apology, guilt plain on his face as he surveyed Jisung’s injuries. Jisung, the good guy, smiled reassuringly, shaking his head as he comforted the older brother.
“It was all a misunderstanding, don’t worry about it.”
Minho remained silent, catching the meaningful glance Jisung shot his way before bidding farewell.
The three of them sat in tense silence in Minho’s car, heading towards the detective’s place where they knew Changbin could find refuge because they knew his mother would have a heart attack if he went home looking like that. Once inside, Changbin wasted no time, directing an accusatory glare at his sister.
“We need to talk!” His voice was strained with anger, his words cutting through the quiet.
Changbin headed inside, pacing restlessly in Minho’s bedroom, trying to calm his nerves.
Minho tugged at Y/N’s hand, halting her before she could follow behind.
“Are you sure everything is okay?” His voice was gentle, eyes filled with concern.
She fought the urge to not jump into his embrace, as she slowly shook off his gentle grip, nodding.
“Everything is okay. He was just trying to protect me. I understand why he’s upset.” Y/N nodded again, mustering a reassuring smile before retreating into the bedroom, the door closing softly behind her.
Changbin’s questions came immediately, causing Y/N to unintentionally flinch as she leaned against the door.
“When did you break up?” His tone was urgent, probing.
“No, why did you break up? I thought you really liked him?” The questions poured out in a torrent, exactly as she had anticipated since arriving at Minho’s apartment.
Y/N felt her nerves intensify, her lips trembling slightly as she prepared to answer. It felt like all the emotions she had bottled up were now on the brink of spilling out, her brother’s steady gaze bearing down on her.
“We broke up three months ago.” She whispered, her voice barely audible.
She watched as Changbin took a deep breath, his expression tightening as he processed her words. She felt overwhelmed, the heavy feeling from earlier washing over her with more intensity.
The brother had been about to barrage her with more questions, but the sight of tears streaming down Y/N’s face left him speechless and bewildered. Panic surged through him as he rushed to her side, unsure of how to comfort her, his eyes darting around in confusion and worry.
“W-why are you crying?” He didn’t know what to do, his voice quivered with concern as he gently reached out towards her.
She wasn’t entirely sure why the tears were flowing so freely either. But deep down, she knew her heart was in turmoil. She could feel her heart clenching, the alternate paths she had taken to forget Lee Minho had ultimately led her in a circle, back to him. Her brother’s best friend, unaware in the other room, stood oblivious to her feelings.
The words poured out with ease, much to her surprise.
“I just love Lee Minho so much.” Y/N’s voice squeaked out between sobs, her palms pressed against her eyes in a futile attempt to stop the downpour of tears.
Changbin froze, his hands dropping limply to his sides as he struggled to process what he had just heard.
She wasn’t talking about his best friend Lee Minho right?
He blinked, processing her words.
“W-what?” His voice came out in a calm yet incredulous tone, his eyes blinking in disbelief as he locked gazes with his sister’s pained expression.
“I’ve always loved him. I-I was just too scared to admit it.” Y/N confessed, her voice wavering with emotion.
Dumbfounded didn’t even begin to describe how Changbin felt at that moment. Shocked and stunned, he stood rooted to the spot, unable to comprehend whatever was happening right now.
His sister loved his best friend.
His best friend loved his sister.
Were these two playing a game he wasn’t aware of?
For some reason the brother felt anger bubbling within him.
He had been patient enough.
But after taking a beating from his sister’s apparent ex boyfriend, who was trying to defend himself, and then staring at his best friend flash sad smiles ever since he found out about his one-sided love, Changbin had finally lost it.
“You two are going to drive me fucking insane.” His muttered words shattered the uneasy silence that had settled in the room.
Frustrated and visibly upset, Changbin flung open the bedroom door and strode into the living room where Minho sat. The detective stood up immediately, concern etched on his face as he noticed Y/N trailing behind her brother, her confused eyes, red and teary.
“What happened?” Minho’s voice was laced with worry as he glanced between the siblings, searching for answers.
Changbin’s frustration boiled over. He scoffed before he shot a pointed glare first at his sister, then at his best friend
Though right now, that title was very close to being revoked.
“You!” Changbin snapped, jabbing his finger accusingly at Minho, who blinked, startled.
“Tell her everything, or I swear to god I’ll end up in jail again.”
He turned swiftly to face his stunned sister.
“If you don’t tell him today I’m gonna shave your head.” He threatened, his frustrated anger, palpable.
Minho and Y/N watched in surprised astonishment as Changbin grabbed his jacket he had thrown on the stool upon their arrival and stomped towards the door.
“But your face—” Minho began.
“I’ll live!” Changbin yelled back over his shoulder.
The door slammed shut with a resounding echo, the automatic lock beeping a few moments later. In the sudden aftermath of Changbin’s outburst, Minho and Y/N stood frozen, trying to process what had just happened.
After a long, tense silence, Minho studied Y/N’s tear-streaked face, his mind racing with questions. What had her brother said to upset her so much? Or was it about Jisung? The mere thought of her ex boyfriend tightened his jaw with unresolved emotions.
“Why did you break up with him?” Minho finally broke the silence, his voice gentle yet probing, his gaze soft as he waited for her answer.
Another few seconds of silence after, Y/N seemed to finally find her voice.
“I-I don’t love him.” She whispered, the admission slipping out easier now that she had opened up to Changbin.
She watched as his brows relaxed, taking in her words. Minho felt a wave of relief wash over him, her words sinking in, but his brows furrowed slightly again as he processed this new revelation.
“Since when?” He took a step closer.
“Since I realized a few months ago.” She confessed, a small sniffle escaping before she wiped away the remaining tears that had mostly dried on her cheeks.
Minho took another step forward, now only an arm’s reach away from her.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone? Why did Changbin have to end up at the police station before he found out?”
His questions mirrored those her brother had asked. But how could she explain it to him? She couldn’t say that she was a fool, hopelessly in love with him. Even though she had practically admitted as much back in the room to Changbin.
She was terrified. Afraid that once she acknowledged the feelings that she had tried to suppress for so long, she would end up in the same place she was all those years ago.
She did end up in the same place, loving her brother’s best friend.
“I was scared.” Y/N breathed out, her eyes darting nervously between Minho’s.
His gaze softened, his fingers reaching out to gently wipe away the tear stains on her skin, unaware of the goosebumps his touch gave her.
“Scared of what?” His voice was barely a whisper now, his head tilting slightly as he searched her eyes.
Y/N felt his touch like a burning imprint on her skin, her heart racing so fast and hard that she was certain he could hear it.
She swallowed.
“That I’d have to tell everyone about my feelings for you. About how infatuated I am with you.”
Silence enveloped them as Minho’s gaze widened slowly, his fingers freezing at her jaw before falling to his side. His expression was a mixture of surprise, and something deeper, unspoken emotions flickering in his eyes. He seemed to be processing her words, his mind racing with thoughts.
It wasn’t what he was thinking right?
Surely not.
He was imagining it, his crazy mind making up stuff, stretching and connecting her words into what he wanted to hear.
But Y/N’s heart sank as Minho stunned stare, his expression a mix of shock and confusion. His silence weighed heavily on her, confirming her worst fears.
She had gotten too bold.
Let her feelings slip too easily.
She let out a self-deprecating laugh, trying to mask her sadness. Unable to meet his gaze, she dropped her eyes to the ground.
Finally confessing her feelings, words she had carried since her teenage years, had only led to this moment of painful realization that she had expected, but wasn’t prepared for.
Of course he didn’t see her that way. He never had, and likely never would.
“I know you don’t feel the same way. I know you’ll always see me as just—“
“I love you.” His voice cut through her self-doubt and resignation, stopping her mid-sentence.
Y/N’s head snapped up, her eyes widening as she searched his face for any sign of deceit or misunderstanding. But Minho’s expression was sincere, his earnest gaze, unwavering.
This time, it was Y/N’s turn to feel at a loss for words, her eyes reflecting a mix of disbelief, excitement, and a touch of fear at Minho’s sudden confession.
His words hung in the air, sinking in slowly. Her heart raced so loud, so quickly, it scared her.
Minho dropped his head slightly, the weight of his confession finally released into the open. There’s a sudden sense of relief that washed through him, making him break into a soft smile.
“I love you Y/N. So damn much.” He repeated, his voice soft and sincere. A tinge desperate.
Her mouth parted in surprise, a silent gasp.
“S-since when?” Y/N managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.
She hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath, the chaos of emotions swirling inside her, threatening to overwhelm her.
Minho took a final step forward, closing the distance between them until he was standing so close that his presence seemed to tower over her. Her back brushed against the wall, leaving them in an intimate space where the air between lingered with unspoken feelings.
“I’m not sure. All I know is that you have always plagued my mind, driving me mad with thoughts of you and only you.”
Y/N’s heart raced as he spoke, her cheeks tingling with heat. The man she had just confessed to was now pouring his heart out in return, with words she had never expected to hear.
“Minho…” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it caused Minho to shut his eyes tightly for a moment, overwhelmed by the delicate call of his name coming from her lips.
He leaned in, closing the gap between them until her figure was pressed flush against the wall.
This moment between them was something neither had ever dared to imagine, yet here they stood, their deepest feelings laid bare in the open.
It brought Minho back to the last time he had trapped her against this same wall. The last time he had almost kissed her but had pulled back, in denial. Out of the fear of crossing a line he believed was forbidden.
But in truth, Minho had been wandering in that forbidden territory for a long time, his feelings for Y/N gnawing away at him with each passing day.
He opened his eyes, locking onto hers with intensity, his hand reaching up to gently cup her cheek. The warmth of his touch sent another shiver through her, a fluttering feeling erupted in the pit of her stomach.
“Do you know how crazy you’ve driven me?” Minho’s voice held a growl, his jaw tightening as he struggled to contain the emotions surging within him.
His intent gaze makes her stiffen, fully reminding her of the position they were in all over again. Her heart drummed against her chest.
“How crazy you still drive me?” His tone softened to a whisper, eyes searching hers with a mix of tenderness and desperation.
Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat as she tried to decipher the emotions swirling in his gaze. The words he had spoken, her heart continuing to pound with anticipation. She wanted to hear more.
“How?...” The response comes out automatically, a genuine curiosity laced in her words.
But her response to his rhetorical question faltered the intensity in his gaze. Minho chuckled softly, a brief, welcome break in the tense atmosphere that had enveloped them.
His head dipped momentarily before he lifted it again, his eyes darkening with a look that sent another shiver down Y/N’s spine. His fingers trailed down to gently grasp her hand at her side, daringly lifting them to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss against her fingers.
She stared in fascination almost, feeling the warmth of his lips against her skin, the touch erupting a searingly hot sensation that surged through her. She shuddered slightly, her throat drier than it already was as she struggled to find her voice amidst the whirlwind of emotions.
“I dream of you every night. I have for god knows how long.” Minho’s confession hung in the air, Y/N stared with her mouth slightly agape, stunned all over again.
Every word he had uttered was making her feel warm and fuzzy. Curious, yet the want to pull him into her arms tugged at her.
He continued, his lips pressing another tender kiss, this time on the palm of her hand.
“I’ve dreamt of holding you close.” His voice was a gentle murmur against her skin, filled with longing and sincerity.
Her heart raced erratically, its beats thundering in her ears amidst the silence of the room she was sure it was going to explode.
“I’ve dreamt of kissing you.” Minho’s other hand grazed her cheek, his knuckles trailing down the soft skin before fingers settled on the point of her chin.
He lifted her head gently, his touch searing and intimate. Y/N’s arms were littered with goosebumps, her eyes fluttered closed briefly to calm herself, then opened to meet his intense gaze.
“I prayed you could be mine.”
She swallowed hard, her eyes dropping momentarily to his lips before meeting his eyes once more.
Y/N can hear the thread snapping. His heartfelt words both biting and heart wrenching, has her peeling herself off the wall, closing the gap between them to finally, finally press her lips against his.
For a split second, Minho stiffened, just like he had done the first time she had kissed him years back.
But this time his eyes fluttered close, lips instantly parted to kiss her deeper. Returning it with a desperation he had suppressed for far too long. His arms encircle her, pulling her into him as if he’s afraid she would disappear if he let go.
The kiss was full of desire, a feverishly hot kiss that has them melting into each other’s mouths. The sounds of sucking are loud in the air, tongues swirling, exploring, was breathtaking almost. And when they finally part, they’re panting for air.
Minho doesn’t let her go. His eyes remained closed, afraid that this moment was just another figment of his imagination. That he was going to wake up in his bed and mourn this fleeting dream.
But it wasn’t a dream.
Y/N pressed her forehead against his, their breaths mingling in the intimate space between them.
“This was a better kiss than the last one.” She stated quietly after a long silence.
Minho’s eyes shot open, his heart skipping a beat at her words.
Shock, surprise, and finally, a profound realization washed over him.
She had never forgotten that night.
The night of her birthday.
The night she had impulsively kissed him because that voice in her head told her to do so. The voice that belonged to a part of her that still pined for her brother’s best friend.
The night he could never forget.
And apparently she hadn’t either.
He pulled back slightly, trying to find the right words to say. His words spluttered almost.
“Y-you remember?”
Her lips were still swollen and wet from their kiss, shining under the dim light of his apartment. She softened them into a gentle smile and nodded slowly.
“When I had asked you the next day if I did anything stupid…” Her voice trailed off, and suddenly Minho was transported back to the day after her birthday. After his promotion ceremony when she had pulled him aside.
He had lied. Reassuring her that the only foolish thing she had done was accidentally slam into a trash can while he chased after her brother.
Minho had chosen to pretend it didn’t happen.
And Y/N had accepted his lie.
The detective in her arms was rendered speechless at this turn of events. How was he never able to tell that she pretended not to remember? That she had been pretending this whole time. He wished he could strangle himself from back then. There were a lot of things he wished he could redo.
Her gentle fingers grazed his skin, a soothing touch that brought him out of his thoughts.
And he decides it’s not important anymore.
Minho had spent so many years stuck in his thoughts, stuck yearning, pining, when right now all he should be focusing on is the woman he had been waiting forever for. His eyes returned to Y/N, drinking in the sight of her in his arms, waiting for him. He pulls her close again, head ducking in for another kiss.
“Don’t forget about this one.” He whispered against her, his hot breath gently fanning against her parted lips.
Her hands crossed into a tangle behind his neck, a smile spreading across her face as she pulled him in closer.
“I won’t.”
And he’s kissing her again, almost slamming her against the wall. Yet there was also something gentle about his touch, fingers intertwined with hers as he lifted their arms over head, tangled hands pressed against the cold wall. Minho’s lips traced kisses down the expanse of her neck, wet, lingering, needy. The warmth of his body flush against hers, fingers groping at parts of her he only eyed shamelessly. Lips sucking softly at any part they come in contact with, elicited a whimper from her. A sound that makes Minho growl into the crook of her neck, repeating the suckles that had her make such a pretty noise.
“S-show me.” She finally breathes sharply, “h-how crazy I drive you.”
In an instant Minho’s lips left her throat, pulling out to look into her hooded eyes, her fingers grasped at the collar of his shirt, a urgency in her actions.
Minho’s patience had long left the room. His eyes darken with an intensity that made her feel tingly.
In a swift motion the man that had been longing for this moment, lifted her off of her feet, hands gripping at her legs to tightly secure them around his waist, his lips met hers hungrily once again, taking their tangled bodies into his bedroom.
The same bed that Minho would wake up on, drenched in sweat after dreaming another painstakingly hot dream of the woman he could only describe as being madly in love with, was now filled with the scent of her.
Their clothes have long been discarded, laying in a forgotten trail on his floor, at the foot of the bed, remnants thrown across the room in desperation.
He wanted to do things to her that he had only dreamt about, his deepest fantasies he had never thought would come true. He had conjured up scenarios, imaginations of her welcoming arms laying on his bed, but now he could stare with a fascination that made him inhale sharply. A real moment that his dreams could never compare to.
He had already etched her naked figure, in his brain, his thoughts, taking in the beautiful sight of her under him. Splotches of bites, trails of wet from his tongue and his kisses running down her body, was suddenly something he would never be able to live without, he concluded.
Fuck, he was a ruined man.
And finally when he feels her clenched around him, filling her enough to earn a sweet moan of his name, he could only melt into her.
Minho grunts into the air, his body working against hers in a soft rhythmic pace, forehead gleaming in sweat. A pull and slam that leaves her clinging to him, to his sheets. His fingers graze over her warm skin, lingering here, tracing there. Her whimpers are music to his ears, his name escaping her swollen lips in heightened whispers whenever he moves a certain way, already memorizing it, already diving in to swallow her moans.
“Pleasepleaseplease” Her cries are full of desperation, a need for him to be closer, deeper.
Y/N’s fingers traced his tightened jaw, guiding him back to her lips, kissing the man that had always been her first love and probably the only man she would ever truly love. She never thought there would come a moment where Lee Minho was completely hers. That he would see her in such a light.
That he would make her feel him, his fingers, his lips, his tongue. Him.
He took his time with her. Testing, feeling, gauging what made her inhale sharply, what made her roll her eyes back as she was thrown off her edge. Everything made her squirm under him, ecstasy coursing through her. He made her see stars. The sight of his sweating and disheveled figure, kissing, nipping, grabbing at parts and places of her that make her moan and cry nothing but his name, had her writhe under his grinding figure with nothing but blissful pleasure. And finally when she came down from a high Minho drew out from her, when he dove into bury his face in her arms, she spoke out the words she had once attempted to bury.
“I love you.”
The confession came out in a low whisper, she was sure he hadn’t heard them, his mouth too busy latching onto the skin of her collarbone, creating more flourishes of red, that would darken to purple and blue. But his body stilled at her words, lifting his gaze up to meet hers. His eyes search hers, a glimmering shine in them. Tears that she could only look at with both astonishment and a fluttering emotion, made her stomach tingle. She wiped away the ones that pricked his eyes, threatening to fall, while Minho could only hold her hand to his lips, muffling his face into her palms, inhaling deeply before quickening his pace, his hips rocking against hers roughly, quickly. Filling her as much as he could before ultimately crashing his lips against hers.
“I love you too.”
There was a comfortable silence that settled in Minho’s bedroom. His fingers traced random patterns on the skin of her arms, making her giggle the few times he got too close to her armpit. The two of them broke into hushed laughter as she attempted to tickle him back.
“I don’t always cry during sex, you know.” He finally voiced.
Y/N’s head shot up to meet his nonchalant expression, though his ears were bright red from embarrassment.
She broke into another low giggle, lifting herself out of his embrace to hover over him. Her fingers pushing away the strands of hair in his eyes.
“That must’ve really been lingering on your mind this whole time huh?” She raised a brow, a teasing smile played on her lips.
The way her head cocks to a side cutely had Minho erupt into a hearty laughter Y/N hadn’t heard in a very long time. Reminding her just how much they had truly hidden during the years trying to forget one another.
She leaned in and kissed him, smiling into his slightly caught off-guard expression before pulling away.
“Can you prove it then?”
This time he raised a brow, a challenge he would never turn down.
“Come here.”
He’s already tugging at her, making her crash into his embrace, his lips already finding hers easily. ────────────────────────
Changbin stared at his best friend and his sister, their fingers intertwined as they giggled and whispered into each other’s ears.
Usually, weekends were his time to relax and goof off with Minho, but now his best friend seemed to be in another world. He suddenly regretted leaving them unattended that evening.
Those idiots.
“You know, usually in these kinds of scenarios I should be kicking your ass.” Changbin interrupted whatever intimate conversation they were having.
Minho blinked up at the third wheel, while Y/N scoffed at her brother’s remark, laughing as she gracefully exited the sofa and headed towards the dining table. Minho’s eyes followed her, but Changbin slapped his hand against the coffee table to get his friend’s attention.
“You jerk. How can you date my little sister? Let’s fight right now.” Changbin’s tone was theatrical, almost like something out of a cartoon, but Minho sighed, not amused.
“How many times do you want to end up behind bars?” Minho shot back.
The detective’s question shut him up, and Changbin muttered under his breath.
“Dammit, I should’ve become a cop instead.”
The tension eased with a shared chuckle, and Minho shook his head fondly at his friend’s antics. They might tease each other, but deep down, they both knew that Minho would protect Y/N with his life.
And though Changbin had begrudgingly accepted it, he didn’t have a single worry.
It was clear the best friend could no longer laze around in Minho’s apartment. Though it was thanks to him that the two had finally poured out their feelings.
Minho’s place, which was often empty because of how much Minho stayed out due to the nature of his job, had turned into a love abode. The detective, who was rarely home before, began rushing out the door as soon as his shift ended, much to the surprise of his captain and teammates.
He’d often come back to find Y/N passed out on his couch or in his bed, exhausted after her own demanding day at work. Sometimes, he’d collapse into her arms with a blissful sigh, inhaling her sweet scent as they embraced.
He’d often come home and pin her against the wall, push her against the couch, into the bed, as his lips kissed her hungrily, hips drilling against hers. Fingers raking into each other’s hairs.
Minho could love his woman madly, and he was doing just that.
He was a fool, hopelessly in love. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ end.
#stray kids#stray kids fanfic#stray kids imagine#stray kids fanfiction#lee know#lee minho#lee know x reader#lee know au#lee know scenarios#lee know imagines#lee know fanfic#lee know fanfiction#lee know fic#stray kids fic#*mine: fics#lee know fluff#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#skz x reader#skz fanfic#lee know smut#skz imagines#lee minho smut#skz fluff#lee minho imagines#lee minho stray kids#stray kids angst#skz scenarios#cop skz#stray kids cop!au
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hello faith roleswap au community
#lyrics in first pic is from tiny gods by shayfer james 👍👍👍 yes that was a rec 👍👍👍#john loves you au#faith game#faith the unholy trinity#faith airdorf#john ward#father allred#gary miller#I still have no idea how to tag the cop#father garcia#zoup art
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july 17: fee | @jegulus-microfic | word count: 406
Regulus was aware that he was going about 20 over the speed limit. But he was so, so late for his meeting. He didn’t care that he was being a tad reckless. He had to get to that meeting.
When Regulus saw the flashing lights and siren in his rearview mirror, he cursed as he slowed and pulled over. He felt like he might cry. He’s never gotten pulled over before.
He heard the door of the cop’s car shut and he shakily pressed the button to roll his window down. The cop took the hat he was wearing off his head when he reached Regulus’ door, and Regulus really wished he had kept the hat on. Because underneath the hat was probably the most handsome man Regulus had ever seen. Perfectly tanned skin, dazzling grin, piercing eyes, and a mess up dark curls on his head.
“So,” the cop started, “you know why I pulled you over?”
Regulus nodded, probably too eagerly and managed to choke out, “I was, ah, speeding.”
The cop put his hands on his hips. “Indeed you were, love.” A smile was pulling on his lips. “Before I write a ticket, I’ll need to see your license and registration.”
Regulus dug in his glove compartment and handed over his papers and license. “Is this going to take long? I have a very important meeting to get to,” Regulus pleaded.
The cop laughed, pulling out a notepad and pen, and Regulus’ heart did a flop in his chest. “Writing the ticket right now, love, don’t worry about that meeting.”
He handed back Regulus’ papers, fingers brushing slightly. Regulus was ashamed that the small touch had sent lightning bolts up his arm. Regulus quickly stashed the paperwork away, and turned quickly back to the cop.
The cop tore a piece of paper off his notepad, folded it, and handed it to Regulus, brushing their fingers again. “Make sure to watch your speed in the future, love.” The cop winked. “I’m James by the way.” And with that, the cop retreated back to his car.
Regulus put his window back up and slowly unfolded the paper, expecting a hefty fee.
He blinked. There wasn’t a fine written in the paper. Just a phone number and a note that read:
Let me take you somewhere fancy.
And don’t speed.
Call me- James
p.s. Charming your officers out of a ticket doesn’t work every time, love.
#july 17#jegulus microfic#jegulus#regulus black#james potter#cop au#james fleamont potter#regulus arcturus black#jfp#r.a.b#reggie black#marauders#marauders era#harry potter#james x regulus#regulus x james#jegulus fanfiction#jegulus fic
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Bloom as Jinx
#the Winx are all firelights#Stella starts off a Piltie#and then gets radicalized#none of them are cops ew#bloom accidentally kills her birth parents#Daphne is vi#Darkar takes her in#WELCOME dark bloom#anyways#arcane#fanart#Winx#winx club#bloom#jinx#winx arcane au#my art
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