#COP!AU

[27nox]

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)

[cherienymphe]

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.

[fictionalmenxyn]

--༒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!)

[smuttyandabsurd]

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

[morganbritton132]

A little continuation from this post I made about Eddie being an unwitting accomplice to Steve’s crimes:

Eddie is sitting in his van in the parking lot, twirling a bathroom pass around his finger as he watches Steve let the air out of Billy Hargrove’s tires.

He looks away, contemplates going back to history class, and then jumps out of his skin at his passenger door opening. Steve sits inside like, “Hey, wanna make a hundred bucks?”

There used to be a time when Eddie would kill to have King Steve Harrington talk to him… “I don’t have that much gear on me.”

“I’m not - no, I’m not looking to buy,” Steve shakes his head like it’s Eddie’s fault for not understanding what he’s asking. “Two hundred. I need a ride.”

Eddie should’ve said no. Wayne would’ve told Eddie to say no, but here he is. Pulling into the parking lot of some posh looking law office while Steve turns towards him like, “You’re good at acting, right? Good, c’mon.”

Honestly he doesn’t know if it’s curiosity or stupidity, but Eddie didn’t back out of that parking lot right there and go back to school. No, he got out and followed Steve inside.

Pass the receptionist’s desk, pass the unpaid interns, and the junior partners, to a big glass door in the back where Steve stops short and tells Eddie, “Okay, follow me and then stand out there and look angry and fed up.”

“I am fed up.”

“Good on, Munson. You’ll kill it,” He says and then heads into the office without knocking. Eddie reluctantly follows. Steve pulls a 180 and says in a voice on the verge of tears, “Dad, I really messed up.”

He launches into an Oscar worthy performance about Tommy messing with him and not paying attention, and him sideswiping Eddie’s van, “And he says he’s going to sue me. He knows a lawyer.”

Because Eddie has clearly hit his head and is now dying, that somehow works. Or at the least, Richard Harrington is too busy to deal with this because he doles out cash to fix his van. He even says, “Have the invoice from the mechanic sent to my office. We’ll cover payment as long as this wraps up cleanly.”

“Dad, he’s going to fix it himself. He’s handy.”

That sounds like an insult but he was handed another extra hundred so Eddie just mumbled something and gets the hell out of there. He’s barely got his seatbelt back on before Steve is getting back in the car looking pumped.

He grabs the cash and splits it. Three hundred evenly. He grins, “I didn’t think that was going to work.”

“What do you need three hundred dollars for?”

“Oh. I don’t.”

Eddie stares at him incredulously, “So you just lie to everybody.”

“Pretty much.”

[ikiprian]

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.

[crabs-brencil]

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

[jeonstudios]

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

[silentheiss]

AU where Luo Binghe’s a burglar and he’s been following this rich guy for last week and he actually seems kinda nice but it’s not Luo Binghe’s business. he needs money and he’ll take what he deserves so he breaks into the apartment. the moment he steps in he’s horrified cause the whole place’s a mess, the floor is covered by empty take out boxes and there’re so many meds in the bathroom cabinet and where was the last time this guy washed his bedsheets??

anyway, Shen Yuan comes back home to a clean apartment and a homemade dinner and a very distressed, very pretty burglar

[starry-bi-sky]

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. :)

[the-barefoot-hatter]

Bill is a self-taught driver!

[cherienymphe]

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.

[bestdressedchuuya]

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

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

[potatomountain]

"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

[zzoupz]

thailand au part 2

+ dumb attempt at thai names LOL