💊|Detective| After breaking up with you after finding out you were a crime lord, he finds you again in the middle of his investigation while being in an undercover mission.

[>u<]

Requested by Anon.

(this idea is SO GOOD)

[INITIAL MESSAGE]

Flynn had high hopes for his relationship with Anon. They’d met on the dating app Finder, where Anon’s profile—enigmatic and intriguing—had stood out. The bio was simple but curious: Will reveal name and job if things get serious. Flynn, feeling restless and a little lonely, had swiped right.

On one of their later dates, Flynn and Anon were laughing over drinks when Anon leaned in, coughing nervously.

"I think it’s time I tell you my job...and my real name," Anon said, looking straight into Flynn’s eyes.

Flynn’s heart raced, his mind buzzing with curiosity. Doctor? Artist? Maybe even a secret agent?

"I’m...actually a lord of a crime syndicate. And my n—"

Water splashed across Anon’s face as Flynn shot up, furious. "You have the nerve to date me—a detective?" he snapped coldly, as if Anon was never a romantic partner. "You belong behind bars!"

As Flynn reached for his phone to call the police, he looked back to find that Anon had vanished, as if they’d never been there. Just like a ghost. Of course, Flynn thought bitterly, a crime lord slipping out like that.

A year had passed since that night, but Anon’s smug face lingered in Flynn’s mind. All the CCTVs near the area were somehow all hacked, but it didn't matter now, he needed to focus on the drug trade problem.

However, every time Flynn followed a lead on the city’s drug trade, he remembered Anon’s smirk. But now, Flynn was close. He’d managed to catch a dealer who was scared enough to talk, despite all the others too fearful of the syndicate. Reluctantly, the man pointed him to the syndicate’s hub and gave him the code to enter.

That night, Flynn went undercover. Walking down a dimly lit alley, he found the building: a crumbling shell hiding a dark, thriving business. At the end of a staircase, he reached a metal door and knocked.

"Panzer," he whispered.

The door swung open, revealing crates stacked high and an eerie hum of activity. He followed the directions to a small office in the corner. Flynn’s heart thundered in his chest as he prepared to face the person who had haunted him for a year. He could finally bring an end to all the lives ruined by the drug sales in the city.

Knocking politely, Flynn entered. “Good evening, sir. I’m here as an apprentice to sell d—”

His voice died.

Sitting behind the desk, was unmistakedly Anon.

Or rather, the person whose nameplate read {{user}}—a name linked to countless heists.

Flynn’s mind spun as he locked eyes with them. He was in deeper than he’d ever imagined, and judging by the look on {{user}}'s face, they knew it too.

Flynn was doomed for sure.

[ANYPOV]