Triggering You | Moon Baek [Trigger] x Reader

I'm a Good Girl, Officer

Lee Do doesn't hesitate. He straightens, badge flashing, as his voice cuts through the night. "This is the police. What are you doing here?"

"Uh, we're gonna make some cash selling boxes."
"Got a problem with that?" The second man spits out.

"Didn't you see the tape back there? This is a crime scene. You can't just come in here." The detective spoke calmly.

"I don't know how to read, our mistake, officer." One of man responds in mock surrender, scattering away as they look back at you. You release Min-Ji's arm only then, realising your nails have dug half moons into her skin.

"The gift," Lee Do says, crouching low near the boxes. "You said it came in a black box?"

"Yes," you nod, stepping closer. "Smooth, clean, expensive. Not like these."

He doesn't answer. His phone vibrates, and he answers without looking at you, murmuring clipped responses to the officer on the other end. His other hand keeps searching the boxes. And then, both at once, you and he see it.

A red 'N' stamp, smeared across cardboard, but still visible. The same stamp that sealed the roses, the one that stared at you like a signature. You find your voice first. "That's it. That's the same mark."

Lee Do looks at you, raising an eyebrow, recognition dawning in his eyes almost an instant. He turns back to the call, his tone suddenly urgent. "It's the same mark. And I think a man named Jeon Woo-Seong got the same package. Okay—I'm heading there."

He ends the call and looks at you both, his tone clipped. "Go home. This isn't your fight."

And then, he's gone, running towards the Main Street. "Y/N, look!" Min-Ji hisses, flipping through the folded list you'd taken from the roses. Her finger lands on a name, printed neat and damning: Jeon Woo-Seong. It matches.

"Go home, Min-Ji," you say quickly, your voice breaking as you fold the list shut. "I have to follow the detective."

Her face crumples with alarm. "No! If you go, you'll be in the middle of it—"

But you're already running and quickly got into a taxi and jolted after him. The streets blur until you arrive at the apartment, a grim block of concrete and silence. Lee Do is already there, circling the building, his phone pressed to his ear as he scans every corner with a hunters precision.

He sees you before you can speak. His eyes darken, his voice harsh. "I told you to go home!"

You don't flinch. "Im safer with you than alone. He already knows my address. If he's watching, if he's following, I'm more of a target on my own. And I want to help."

For a moment, he says nothing, only staring at you like he's measuring the weight of the consequences. Then he exhales sharply, muttering something under his breath. "Fine. But you wait outside! No matter what you hear, don't come in. Do you understand me?"

You nod, even though your chest tightens with the certainty that waiting is impossible. And as he steps through the door, gun drawn, you already know: sooner or later, you'll follow him inside.

After what seemed an eternal silence, the noise came—shouts, a crash, the sickening thud of impact. You ran inside before you could stop yourself.

You froze.

Detective Lee Do stood over a man sprawled on the ground, a hammer clutched in his hand, his chest heaving. The stranger groaned, wincing in pain, blood wetting his lip. But when his gaze lifted, it wasn't the fear you expected.

It was amusement.

He tilted his chin upward, looking up on you, his smirk sharp despite the bruise blooming across his jaw. "Hi there, gorgeous."

Your breath caught, the words slid out of him with unsettling ease, too casual for the moment, too intimate for a stranger. They snare in your chest, before you can stop them. Because the truth is, he doesn't look like the criminal you'd braced yourself to see. Even half pinned to the floor, he is handsome in a way that feels wilful, sculpted by keen lines and careless charm. His dark hair falls messily over his forehead, his eyes are quicksilver—bright, cunning, wickedly alive, and his mouth curves in a smile that belongs in a photograph, not in a police report.

For a dizzying heartbeat, you almost forget the bullets, the roses, the pressure. You see only a man. A man who should have been a lover. Your lover.

But then his grin widens, his gaze holding yours like a secret only he knows, and reality crashes back in.

"Shut up," Lee Do growls, yanking the man's head.

"Ouch. Easy, detective." His smirk broadened, eyes glinting dangerously as they shifted between you and Lee Do. "Didn't mean to pry on your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend. Answer me, now! Who are you?" Lee Do snapped, his grip consolidating.

"My name is Moon Baek. Moon Baek!" The man repeats, grabbing onto the detective's arm.

"What are you doing here?"

You stepped closer, eager on knowing his answer, every nerve screaming, your gaze locked on the strangers face. But the man's smile deepened, his eyes finding yours, holding them with unbearable ease. And then, he winked at you.

"I came to pick something up. A- a package."

Something cold slid down your spine.

And in that moment, little did you know, he was the one who had been watching you.

All along.