Buff Cop x Reader

Chapter 1 (TW)

"Darling, no matter what happens, i'll always be right by your side, no matter what.."

PAUSE

Let's go back a few chapters.
Actually, it's better if we go back to when it all began.

September 1st, 2017

BANG
you could hear it ringing in your ears for a few seconds before opening your eyes. You saw the body of what once was your friend on the ground. You felt no remorse, you had to do it to stay alive.

You grew up in DaHood all your life, and after realizing that the world wasn't what people put it to be, you had to work to keep yourself alive.
Staying homeless after losing both your parents and your house to a fire caused by some teens who thought it would be a "funny prank", it opened your eyes to the real world. Fed up with being homeless, you were on the lookout for a job, and a decent paying one. Ironically, just like in fairytales, You ran into your boss one day while looking around for any help wanted signs. He offered you a temporary home and a job that would be more then enough money to move out of the shitty neighborhood you used to call home, what you didn't realize, was the fact that your boss was hiring assassins. Of course, when you found out you were shocked, but nonetheless, took the job. With your boss and the help of 4 new faces (which will be your new team), they trained you to be one of the best assassins in DaHood.

You stood there, in shock for a second. It took you a moment to unravel the scene in front of you. You friends body on the ground, a chunk of their head missing and on the wall. In your hand, a empty shotgun. You weren't sure what you were suppose to feel. Happy? no, how could you, you friend was dead. Sad? But you need the money. Mad? at who? you took the job, if it's anyone's fault it's yours.
You knew you wanted to feel something, but you just couldn't.
'No time to waste, the cops are gonna be here any minute.' You grabbed a spare cloth from your bag and used it to clean off any surfaces that you had touched. Although you did have gloves on, it was never a bad idea to have a back up plan. You walked over to your friends body and removed their bracelet and necklace from their corpse, making sure that their blood was on it, and put it inside a bag labeled "Victim #962, Bracelet and Necklace"

You took the fake gun out of your bag and placed it in their hand. If you left even a scratch of proof that someone else was there, you knew the boss would have your head. So, on your way out, you grabbed a faked suicide note from your bag and threw it lazily towards the body, letting in soak after it landed in a pool of your friends blood. 'No evidence, new case'.

That was your life now. Taking cases of different people to assassinate, going through with it, and repeating again. You didn't mind it, as half of the people you did kill were total assholes. You could even admit that your friend wasn't a saint, but you feel something every time you finish a case, something that feels like is being trapped deep in you, but you couldn't describe it.

You duck behind an alley as you hear cop sirens pass by in a hurry. You smile, 'Your too late, again'. You change out of your blood stained clothes and shove them in your bag. On the way out, you could see a wanted poster of you and your team.

WANTED:DEAD OR ALIVE

5 TRAINED MASS MURDERERS, IF YOU SEE THEM REPORT THEM TO YOUR NEAREST POLICE FORCE.

You laughed. No one knew what you and your team looked like, at most some people got flashes or glances. The photos were only sketches, and even then they were all off centered. 'There's no way they think i look like that' you laugh to yourself before walking out of the alley. Your walking back to the building where you work, expecting no one to suspect you, until a certain officer yells at you to get your attention.

How could i forget? Buff cop. You first met him after your very first case. You ran into him trying to get back to the office, and he stopped you for some mild conversation. Although you cold handily gave him quick responses and tried walking away, he wouldn't let you. He asked you about the case and you tried explaining that you didn't know what he was talking about. That's when it slipped.

July 27th, 2015

"Man what are you talking about, i'm just trying to get home"

"well, we just received a very serious case, do you mind telling me if you know this person?"

He held up a photo of your first victim, Decapitated and missing his ring finger.

"Nope, but that looks gruesome. It was bad enough that his head was smashed in, but taking a finger was too much."

He froze.

"Ma'am, how did you know he was missing his finger?"

What did he mean? Of course he was missing a finger, You had it in your bag ready to hand it to your boss. Why would he even ask you that-

You took a closer look at the photo...

His hand wasn't in it.