Tumgik
You guys ever feel like you’re finally becoming okay with who you are and what you’re becoming, like it’s taken time but maybe your soul and body and mind are finally harmonising, and then something, and I can’t put my finger on what, suddenly knocks you down and now you’re having to rebuild again brick by brick step by step
Like you’ve finally hushed those thoughts that say you’re not good enough or why even bother and then like a switch the volume increases and you can’t find the mute button as easily anymore
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Do you plan on finishing Bleeding Butterflies??
It's been almost 2 years since Chap 14🥺🥺🥺
I do 😭😭😭😭😭 I just kinda got kicked out of that universe somehow 🥺 and I’m trying to find my way back in but it’s hard. My brains put a steel bar across the entrance and I’m banging the door down atm
I miss them I miss writing them I miss Taehyung in that universe I miss everything I miss their soft moments too, I might write a bonus chapter first to get me back into it and then continue the story line 🤔 that might work
I WILL GET TO IT MY LPVELY, my brain cannot tell me what to do 😤 I am in charge here
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Part 8 of oll is so good!!!!! I'm going to read it for the 3rd time now, Namjoon being angry is so delicious 😍😍😍😍
I do have a question though, do you plan to write another part for the what if of oll??? I don't know why I love that so much. Either way, thank you for sharing your work with us!
Thank you my lovely 💜 angry Kim Namjoon does something to all of us, he needed to be written
Time for some trade secrets huh… well since you’ve been so lovely to me I can let you in on them.
I currently have two chapters planned for the OLL team, a short drabble and a prequel chapter
Still very early stages but I’m quite inspired atm and I miss that OC she was so cute throat I love her
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Blue!!!
That latest chapter... I have no words
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You wrote it really well (as always!), and I can't wait for the next ones!!! The way you wrote namjoon was really 🔥
P.s. No pressure for the next update(s) tho! I'll always be here to support and wait for you 🫶🏻 Hope you're doing well!
Hello miss 25, I hope you had the best birthday 💜
What can I say, Mr Kim Namjoon demanded a solo chapter and after some negotiating I said okay 👌🏽 and I’m so glad I did because I really enjoyed writing that chapter AND THE FACT THAT YOU ALSO LIKE KT MAKES ME GO YAAAAYYY 🥳🥳🥳
I’m actually staring at all my WIP trying to decide where to go next, the inspiration is pulling me in too many different directions and there are so many stories that I haven’t updated in too long
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Thank you my lovely 💜💜💜 honestly half the comments and responses are in the “I hate him” category and I completely understand it’s a rational response. These characters are so so so flawed and messed up and unhinged but that’s what’s makes them so fun to write 😬 so I’m glad you enjoyed it
Our Little Love part eight - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au
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Mr Kim has a chapter all to himself of 6.8K words, please enjoy and PLEASE let me know what you think. Trigger warnings: manipulation, coercion, corruption, interrogation, mentions of murder and other crimes, swearing, jealousy, possessive yandere behaviour, fingering, orgasm denial, mirror sex, light choking. I am awful with warnings, please forgive me.
Namjoon wasn’t all that impressed with seeing the Chief of police visiting his cell, the syndicate boss was dressed too well to belong there, it was almost an eyesore. A glance to the camera, the normal red blinking light absent tells him all he needs to know. There were no eyes or ears to this conversation. 
“I thought I paid you to keep your men in line,” Namjoon says in lieu of greeting. “Was a bullet to the knee not warning enough for your dear Captain?”
“He wasn’t an issue when I spoke to him, the man was on leave!” the chief replied. “Your girl was the problem he-”
“Be very careful how you finish that sentence,” he advised with a deep angry rumble from his chest. “I am well aware who is at fault here, and regardless of what our little love does, she is never to blame.”
Chief Lee Soo-man only nods once, biting back his complaints.
“I asked you to sort out Kim Suho, I told you to keep him in check,” Namjoon growls. “Keeping your pockets full isn’t an act of charity Lee, it’s a purchase. I own you.”
“Yes sir,” he mumbles in response. “I assure you this arrest is just a formality, the case won’t stand once it’s revealed Detective L/n-”
The glare the man in the blazerless three piece suit gave him was enough to stop him in his tracks. Right, he couldn’t involve you in this, that was going to make things harder than they needed to be.
“What do you recommend then sir?” he asks when he finds his voice and wavering courage. 
Namjoon sighs harshly, and the Chief swears he can almost see smoke. 
“I want to be alone with my little love,” it’s not a request, the chief didn’t let the soft lilt of his fool him. 
“I don’t know how that would be poss-”
“I want-” Namjoon cuts in, unable to bear another second of this blithering idiot, “her to be the one to interrogate me. And I can trust you understand the rest.”
“Y-yessssir,” he stutters, not completely hearing the words between the lines, and that was clear enough on his face. 
“I want her alone, Sooman,” Namjoon repeats himself, if this were one of his men he would never have needed to. “I don’t want a single soul witness to what I’m going to do to her.”
Suho tugs you along by the arm, stumbling in his urgent pace, pulling you out of ear shot.
“We have a problem.”
“What problem?”
“I’m technically on health leave, brass says I can’t interrogate him,” he stares a hole into you as if his eyes were telling you the rest but you couldn’t understand.
“Okay so who’s replacing you?”
He huffs out a breath of air from his nose, knowing you weren’t going to like the command from way over his head.
Your heart beats hard in anticipation, why was he looking at you like that?
“As far as Brass are aware you were deep undercover,” Suho informs you slowly, deliberately, looking like he was about to tear your world to trash. He sighs, unable to get the words out.
“Suho what?”
“They want you to interrogate him,” he breathes, you think you’ve misheard him, but you know you haven’t.
Your world spins, you’re already shaking your head.
“I can’t,” you whisper, he knows full well that you can’t. “I resigned, I’m not a detective anymore.”
He sighs again, hesitation in his eyes. 
“I never processed it,” he confesses.
“Y-you di-”
“I couldn’t, I knew you would see reason, I knew you would come back,” he doesn’t let you process the shock, explaining himself quickly. 
“Suho I can’t I can’t,” you beg, the conviction you had to punish them now suddenly taking a back seat as fear overtakes you, “right now they believe I was deep undercover but he’s not going to let that-“
“Listen to me,” he interrupts you before you can fully submerge into a panic attack, taking your hand in his. “I’m going to be in the next room, as soon as he says anything that compromises you, I’ll turn off the cameras, okay?”
“But-“
You’re interrupted again when the door opens, both of you whipping your heads to see him being transferred by four officers to the interrogation room. His eyes find you, staring stoic holes into you before his gaze finds Suho’s hands comforting yours. The snarl of displeasure is brief but you definitely see it, and you can’t breathe.
Suho draws your attention back to him, tugging your hand softly.
“Do you trust me Y/n?” he implores you, eyes searching yours in a way that made Namjoon want to strangle him with the chains on his handcuffs. You look up at your Captain with such light in your eyes, a way you should never look at another man, and then you have the audacity to nod. 
You’ve done this a hundred times, if not more. So why were you hesitating at the door? Your hand on the handle, all you had to do was turn it and face the music but you couldn’t even manage finding your breath. 
Interrogation was a science, it was like riding a bike, you knew what you had to do, you had to command the room. It almost sounded like a joke, the worst one you’d ever heard. Command a room when Kim Namjoon was in it? 
The thought makes you hyperventilate. No, it wasn’t going to be easy but you could control what you could. You borrowed clothes from an old colleague, a skirt and blouse, simple but professional. Suho’s old blazer too, as if layers would protect you. You had splashed water on your face in the bathroom, using makeup from evidence to make yourself look presentable, composed. Your impromptu freshening up had meant you left the syndicate leader waiting for a long time, and it absolutely 100% was not because you were trying to kill time, it was to make him stew in the room, a technique you had used multiple times prev- who were you trying to convince? 
You needed to get this over with. 
Your face is impassive when you finally open the door, his gaze is on you immediately and you can feel a certain type of guilt and shame try to seep its way into you, but you push it down far enough that you can pretend it’s not there.
“Mr Kim Namjoon,” you greet him stoically.
“Detective L/n,” he returns, playing along with a small smile, as if seeing an old acquaintance after a long time. The way he addressed you shouldn’t cut you, logically it made no sense not when you’re the one that got him in the box, but it did. 
You approach the table he’s chained to, looking at the wood instead of his eyes as if he didn’t matter, or at least that’s how you wanted it perceived. Avoiding eye contact with the most dangerous man the whole country had ever come to know, meant you missed the way his stare moved to your clothes, particularly your blazer, recognising it was a man’s, and he could confidently guess exactly who it belonged to. Any friendliness on his face disappeared, he wanted to play games and now he just wanted to torture you a little, punish you for you actions. Patience, he tells himself, that would come later.
The file in your hands slaps the table as you throw it down, taking a seat opposite your boyfriend, a man you now convinced yourself you wanted behind bars. 
What do they say about a woman scorned? Namjoon thinks to himself, admiring the fire he could see burning underneath your skin, and though he knew he would feel the burn, he would welcome it. It was no secret that he had a fantasy about you interrogating him, he introduced the role play to the bedroom soon after your return to them but it lacked the flames of heat he could feel today. 
“Allow me to formally introduce myself,” you reply. “My name is detective Y/n L/n, I’ve been undercover at your… establishment for the past year and a half.”
“Is that right?” he barely suppressed his amusement but it didn’t phase you. Your professional head was on, this was just another criminal you had to put away, that was it. 
You open the file, sliding out photos of him that you had sent in as intel in your early days undercover as well as surveillance photos that Suho had taken since you were MIA. 
“Do you know who this man is Mr Kim,” you say, sliding the first of the photos to him.
“Can’t say I do detective,” he shrugs nonchalantly, not even glancing away from you. 
“Do you want to try looking at his face first before you answer,” you insisted unimpressed. 
He smiles, still staring at you. 
“I don’t recognise him,” he repeats himself slowly. 
“So this isn’t you in the photo?” You ask.
“I don’t know,” his grin only grows.
“This man, Jackson Wang, is dead, and the last person who saw him alive seems to have been you Mr Kim, at least based on the time stamp on this photo and the time of death from the post mortem.”
“Is that right,” he says again, sounding like a broken record. His eyes swim with admiration for you, you can see it though you can’t understand it at all with the current scene. Why wasn’t he fuming, why wasn’t he demanding an answer or explanation?
“Okay let's cut the crap since I know you’re far too clever for that Mr Kim,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes. “I have gathered evidence of your crimes from the last 18 months, and I will stand in court as a witness against you.”
“Are you allowed to do that little love?” he asks, the name has a pang of panic hit you, but you tell yourself you can explain it away to brass.
“The charges you're facing so far are murder, battery, and grand larceny to name a few,” you state ignoring him, flicking through the photos, throwing each one in front of him. “There are many more to follow.”
“I didn’t know partners could testify against each other,” he mused, smirk still strong on his face.
“I’m not your partner,” you object. “I was undercover.”
“No,” he contends, shaking his head like this was just a game to him. “You can’t fake a love like ours, heaven.”
You almost snort as if his point was ridiculous.
“I don’t think I could ever love someone like you Mr Kim,” your stare was ice cold, that finally wipes the smile off his face. 
“You’re angry,” he states as if it was new information for you. “I get that little love, but this is a bit too much, don’t you think?”
“I think justice needs to be served, don't you?” you sneered. “People got hurt, some people died, someone needs to pay.”
“You and I both know they deserved it,” he declares as if there wasn’t a camera recording his confession. “You’re just angry because I stepped on a bug.”
Utter rage brewed like a storm in your chest, and you wanted the downpour to drown him. 
“You sound like you’re ready to sign the confession Mr Kim,” you don’t break your stare. “That’s great, saves us a lot of time, thank you.”
You close the file, pushing the chair back to stand. 
“I’m not done with you,” he growled.
“But I’m done with you.” 
“Y/n sit,” he commands calmly, composing himself. “Throwing a fit isn’t going to fix things.”
“Throwing a fit?” The audacity of this man, you stand there in shock. 
“Let’s talk it through,” he says to you as if you were being hysterical. 
“Fuck you,” you spit. 
“Talk to me Y/n,” he scolded you like you were a child. “Without this bullshit.”
“Fine! You wanna talk about it Namjoon,” you snapped, taking the seat again, throwing the file haphazardly on the desk. “Let’s talk about it.”
The glare you present him with doesn’t make him flinch, it doesn’t phase him. You hope Suho had enough sense to turn the cameras off by now, this would go nowhere. 
“You manipulated me, you lied to me, you made me play the fool.”
He didn’t react, not a single muscle on his face moved and it fanned whatever flame explode inside of you like a bomb. This was his true colours underneath the mask of love and adoration he created for you.
“You don’t have to pretend anymore Namjoon I can see right through you,” you state. “And you are never touching me again.”
That made him look at you, really look at you, something shifted in his gaze, a slight smirk as if he was mocking you.
You could cry kick and scream about the injustice he put you through in the name of this fucked up love and he wouldn’t flinch. He would sit there and watch and then the fucker would have the audacity to laugh afterwards. He must’ve laughed at how stupid you were in trusting him when he lied.
“At least if you go to prison, I’ll finally be free,” you whisper like it’s a life line.
He’s still unmoved, sitting there as if you were invisible and it irked the fuck out of you. He was the one who wanted to talk, why the fuck was he silent now? 
You wanted him to hurt you wanted him to feel an ounce of what you did in the light of his betrayal. He tore your heart out and you weren’t going to forgive him.
“I must’ve looked so pathetic,” you say in a self deprecating tone, looking at the ceiling as if someone could answer you. “Suho was right.”
That comment makes his blood boil hard enough to show on his face. There it was, the reaction you were waiting for and you took the bait without thinking about what you were trying to catch or what you were trapped with.
“I should’ve trusted him, he’s always had my back and my best interest at heart.”
His jaw clenches, a fist squeezing nothing but air although he probably wished it was the captain's neck.
“Kai and Suho are all I have left,” you goad him, unsure of what exactly it was that you wanted to prove. “And finally I’m back where I belong.”
“If you don’t want a bullet in each of their heads, you need to stop talking love,” he grunts through gritted teeth.
Something inside of you felt vindicated and you realise then what you wanted from him, proof he fucking cared, that you weren’t some pawn or prize in this game of crime. You wanted him to soothe the very cuts he caused, or rip your heart out hard enough that you could bleed him out of your system forever.
“Oh please Namjoon, just admit why you kept me around for so long,” you scoff. “I can only imagine how it felt to have the lead detective on your case in the palm of your hands, like a trophy, a big fuck you to the justice system.”
You laugh sounding a little maniacal.
“You had me, and I fell for all of it.”
“You’re forgetting I didn’t know your true origins at first little love,” his low voice is a warning, he looks at you like he needed to remind you who you belonged to.
“And you’re forgetting I know you,” you bite back. “Any hint of betrayal and you pull the trigger first and ask questions later.”
He stares at you, grimacing.
“And yet here I am, alive.”
“Because I love you,” he says it so casually it throws you off, like it was a fundamental part of his being, like breathing.
“Because you saw an opportunity,” you rationalise.
“Because I could never lose you,” he confesses. “You could rip out my heart, little love and I would still want you, why else would I be here?”
You frown, what did he mean? He was here because you paid an eye for an eye, you betrayed him.
“What’s done is done,” you say as if you were unconcerned. “I will testify against you.”
He leans closer across the table, words for your ears only.
“Do you think you’ll be able to handle seeing Jungkook in prison, love?” Namjoon whispers. “Knowing you put him there? It would kill you.”
The pain his words brought forth only proved them to be true. You did have a soft spot for the youngest, always had. You break eye contact first, looking down at the file and turning back and forth a page as if in contemplation but really to cool your nerves.
Were you really doing this? Sending Yoongi, Jin, Hoseok, Jimin, Tae and Kookie to jail because of an angry outburst? Now your emotions had time to settle after the bomb that exploded when you saw Suho; you weren’t so sure.
“I never thought you could betray us like this,” he says solemnly, continuing to manipulate your guilt, but he forgot about your fire. He could almost see the coals ignite in your eyes, a misstep on his part, one he realised when a snarl forms on your lips.
“You. Lied.” You state ferociously. “I asked you if you hurt him and you lied to me.”
“So you decided to have us all arrested,” he continues, “for a man you stated you didn’t care about like that.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” you seethe, unable to sit with him any longer, pacing the room before you raised a finger to his face. “You played me like a fool Namjoon, and I refuse to play the part anymore.”
“I wanted him dead, little love,” he states in a low voice through gritted teeth. “Do you understand what a mercy-”
“I asked you not to hurt him!”
“Then you underestimated our wrath!” he retorted. “I couldn’t let him go in one piece, and you didn’t need to know.”
“No. You underestimated MY wrath Kim Namjoon!” You burst, slamming the desk with your hand, the sting burning, your face heating more and more with rage as it concealed your heartache. “I am not some docile doll for you to play with, and manipulate and LIE TO! You took my love for granted when it was a damn fucking privilege.”
Your chest heaves with each breath, he stayed composed while you looked like a wild animal finally let out of her cage.
“You think this obsession is love,” your voice broke at the last word, the floods of heartbreak dampening the fires. “And I did too, but it’s fucked up everything.”
His silence was eating you alive, his face giving nothing of his heart away while yours laid bare out between you.
“You know what I’m done,” you breathe, “have fun rotting in jail Namjoon.”
Tears drop out of the corner of your eyes as you walk away, his piercing gaze doing nothing to deter you. He might’ve had power over you once but that was before he betrayed you. You reach for the door handle, tugging, ready to leave him behind until his trial, but the door doesn’t budge. You still, mind blank for a second before panic overwhelms you. You try again with all your might, pulling as hard as you can over and over before releasing your grip with a harsh breath. You take a gulp, calming yourself, he planned this.
You’re not surprised when you hear the sound of the handcuffs undo or the chains hit the floor. Fucking bastard. An alarm started blaring in the building, loud and overwhelming, but it came too late. Red lights flash, the room glowing as if warning you about the oncoming danger.
“Are we done with your outburst little love,” he says coldly, like your grievances were nothing more than a tantrum.
You turn to face him slowly, more tears dropping without a sound, shaking your head at the way his words cut you down to nothing.
When he stands from the seat your heart gallops with fear and panic. Although it’s helpless you turn back to the door, trying with all your might to open it and escape him. The fire alarm blaring does nothing to ease you, you hang onto the door as you feel him approach, tears falling out of your eyes without control.
Fuck, you were stuck here with the man you sent to jail, you were left to his mercy. His presence looms over you, you can feel him a hair's width behind you, not touching you, not really, but he’s so close it’s overwhelming.
It’s when you feel his breath you freeze, your body shutting down with dread. He presses his cheek to your hair, inhaling you softly. The action makes you jolt away, turning to the side but he grabs your wrist tightly. You don’t look at him, you stare into the two way mirror, your cheeks pathetically wet. You were supposed to hold the power in this room, but you could feel it dwindle away to nothing but smoke.
You’re slammed against the door hard, a whimper escaping your lips as your eyes scrunched in pain. You miss the flash of guilt in his eyes, realising he pushed you too hard. An apology on his lips but the glare when your eyes open stops him. He’s seen anger in your eyes before, hate even, for he knew love didn’t come without it. But fear? Never of him, not even in the days when you were undercover and your life was one unveiled secret away from ending. 
“Get away from me,” you seethe, meaning every word, even when you saw the hurt in his eyes. 
Regret, Kim Namjoon never knew the feeling before, but he knew he never wanted you to look at him the way you were. He needed to keep his calm, one wrong push and you would tear him out of your own heart.
Your eyes fly all over the room, trying to piece together a way to gain some distance. Suho… maybe he was still behind the glass. You tug your wrist as hard as you can, taking steps away from him but his hold is relentless. The blare of the alarm stops ringing but the flashing red lights remain, staining the walls like blood pumping.
“Little lo-“ he starts to say with a sigh, he was being patient but there was only so much time left.
“Suho?” You call desperately trying to look through the glass. You know you’ve made a mistake before you even said his name but fear drives people to do stupid things without thinking.
The most notorious criminal in all of Seoul pulls you back against his chest hard. An arm wraps around your waist, the unforgiving grip on your wrist turning lethal. He rests his chin on your shoulder, staring at you through the mirror. The hairs on your skin stood on end at the frightening change in his eyes, danger rolled off of him and you had no choice but to take every wave.
“Do you think he’s there, love?” The corner of his lip lifts in a smirk that makes you think of a snake, the saccharine tone of his voice hypnotising. “Do you think he’s watching us?”
The palm on your hip moves down to your thigh, he squeezes the flesh. You could feel your heart jumping in your throat.
“Should we give him something to watch?” He murmurs seductively, turning his head to bring his lips so close to your neck. The bruising clutch on your wrist is gone only to find its way to your hair, yanking it back to give himself better access.
Your eyes in the mirror are begging but the inner turmoil from his touch is making you question what exactly you’re asking for. Reason tells you it’s for Suho to save you, to grant you escape, but the way you feel a familiar heat swim to your core has you doubting yourself.
“If he was in there,” he whispers, his lips now on your ear, “don’t you think he’d come in here and try to take you from me, love?”
He chuckles to himself, a joke only he can understand.
“Fuck I’d love to see him try.”
His groan has you aching, your body relapsing to what it knows, anticipating the pleasure and pain only they could provide. 
​​“I’m not mad at you for having us arrested, heaven,” he whispers in your ear, gaze softening for a second in the mirror lulling you into a sense of security you couldn’t tell if it was a trap. “In fact I’m a little in awe, a little proud.”
The smirk he gives you seems genuine.
“We deserved it I know,” reassurance fills his voice, he wants you to hear his sincerity. “What I’m mad about, little love…”
The softness is gone, eyes turn piercing, the proverbial snake about to strike.
“Is the fact you let another man touch what’s mine.”
The guttural rumble of his possessive claim sent waves of need down to your cunt, you could feel it pulsing. 
“I’m mine,” you return meekly, trying to find your resolve, but it sounded like a whine.
“Make no mistake Y/n, you’re always going to be mine.”
You didn’t have it in you to argue, not when he sent your eyes rolling back and a shiver down your spine. Fuck he hadn’t even touched you yet, maybe it was true, maybe a part of you would always belong to them, but that didn’t mean all if you did.
“Look at me,” he commands, his breath hitting your neck.
Your blown out eyes meet him in the mirror, that predatory but protective gaze piercing through you. He hums in approval the deep vibration fucking with your senses, making you hazy. 
You both hold eye contact even when you can see the fingers on your thigh stroke soothing circles up your skin. Your lips part with a harsh breath when they rub your mound through the fabric of your panties, the touch light and testing and not nearly enough. 
“You’re fucking soaking wet baby,” he calls you out with a grin.
You grab his wrist when his fingers cup your heat, his thumb soothing circles on your clit. You press against him, the warmth of his chest enveloping your back. You both fit so well together, you were forgetting why exactly you were so angry at him, but simmers of it still remained even through his touch. 
“You know,” he says, opening your leg with his knee to give him more access, “a lot of couples fuck through their problems, should we try?”
He hides his grin, burying his head in you but you can feel it against your skin, the arrogant asshole. 
“You can go and fuck yourself,” you sassed back, lying to yourself that you could be fine if he stopped now, that it wouldn’t leave you a needy mess. 
“But I’d rather fuck you,” he chuckles, breathing you in, savouring the moment while his fingers slide the fabric aside. 
You choke back a moan at the contact of his skin right where you wanted him, the way he spread your wetness until every inch of you was covered in it. 
“You can pretend to regret our relationship all you want, but this,” he emphasises his point by slapping your cunt hard, making you gasp, “still wants me.”
“It wants to get fucked,” you spitefully remark through gritted teeth, “doesn’t have to be you.”
That makes him pause, and you have to bite back the words of displeasure. 
“You’ll pay for that next time love,” he murmurs dangerously. 
“There won’t be a next time,” you try to ridicule him through a laugh but his fingers circle your entrance. 
“You’re lying,” he hums, “next time, I think we should tie you down, make you watch other women touch us in ways only you’re allowed to.”
You bury the fury that ruptures at the image, clenching your jaw to keep from swearing at him and proving the point he was trying to make.
“Maybe then you’d have a semblance of understanding of what you did- the torture you put us through.”
“I wouldn’t care,” you breathe, squirming against his fingers, he needed to shut up and move.
“Liar,” he chuckles knowingly, seeing right through you. Before you, there were many females in his organisation, until his little love demanded he get rid of them all. The memory stretches his grin wider. 
“Why the fuck was it me?” You whisper, your eyes starting to water at the vulnerability of your tone, remembering the same moment he was. “When I went undercover there were so many beautiful women-“
“They’re not you, little love, don’t for a second compare yourself to them,” he kisses your temple softly in reassurance. His face is in your hair, his hand on your throat as you preen to his touch. “You were sweet and addicting with a fire you were trying so desperately to contain.”
He thrusts two fingers in gently, watching your face contort in want in the mirror, smiling at the way your eyes rolled back. You whimper when he squeezes his grip on your neck.
“To think that passion we saw in your eyes was hatred at first,” he smiles as if amused, watching every little reaction you gave him, every proof of love.
“I did,” you confess, pressing your ass against his hard length and making him groan, “I hated you.”
“You were sent to destroy us, love, but instead you reached into our souls and thought there was something worth saving,” he chuckled, nuzzling into you softly as if he wasn’t knuckle deep inside of you, feeling every part he knew so well. “And save us you did, it was so dark before you our little light, how could we ever let you leave?”
“You’re fucking with my head,” you whimper, head falling back to his chest, it rumbles when he laughs.
“Hmmm? I’m definitely fucking your brains out today Y/n,” he promises with a chuckle, kissing your temple again, but emphasising his point when he scissors his fingers reading you for his cock. “If that’s what you mean.”
This was your fault, you knew what you were getting into when you fell for them. You especially knew Namjoon was the worst of them all. You let his soft side brush away his true nature, and while you never forgot his ruthless persona, you put it to the back of your mind. You foolishly thought you had tamed his cunning cold cruel- 
“Oh fuck,” whatever train of thought you had died, the palm of his hand rubbing your clit, stimulating your already aching cunt to the edge. Your parted lips open wider to release a silent scream, his fingers stroking so deep.
You were so close, you could taste it, unable to control the delirious sounds escaping you. So when he stops and slips his fingers away from you, you have to stop yourself screaming in protest. 
“Up against the mirror Y/n,” he commands gruffly, but you don’t move, you were so fucking close. Fuck him, fucking asshole, you were so fucking close. 
He picks you up with ease, pushing you against the wall so your breath fogs the surface. You hear the zip pull down, your forehead falls forward, your core pulsing in anticipation. He grabs your leg, opening you for him, the head of his cock sliding across your folds until you're whining.
“Stop squirming love,” he warns, but you don’t listen, of course you don’t, so he makes you listen. 
The sound you release when he slaps your clit with his hard dick over and over has him questioning his restraint, fuck he wants to just pound into you but you needed to be taught a fucking lesson. 
“Joonie sensitive,” you whine, but he’s relentless, making you cry out over and over. Fuck you could actually maybe cum like this. 
His self control wavers, his jaw clenched with such a force he thinks it’ll shatter. He couldn’t take it anymore, the swell of his head finds your entrance. Inch by inch, he relishes the feeling of your walls hugging him so fucking tight, the pulse of them pulling him in. He leans over you, trying to regain composure but you feel so good he doesn’t want to move, he wants to stay like this forever, inside of you where he belongs. 
You try to push back into him, but he grabs your waist with one hand to keep you still, grinding his hips against you and he knows it’s not enough. 
“Look at you arching your back little love,” he smirks, “Your body knows where you belong, it’s a shame you tried to take it away from me.”
Your hands ball into fists on the mirror, you can’t even look at yourself right now, you can’t stop writhing on the surface, trying so hard to get him to move. You squeeze him hard, making his head fall against you with a grunt. 
“Behave little love,” he warns, “or I’ll show your colleagues just how well you can take me.”
“Make me,” you dare him even though it comes out as a mumble. 
You were dizzy and disorientated and all you wanted was for him to fucking move. He pushes you against the wall hard, every inch of him covering you so you couldn’t budge. You whine, the cold of the hard surface making you seek his warm body, you slot against him like a damn puzzle piece. He was hell bent on torturing you today, as if you hadn’t suffered enough. 
“Joonie move,” you almost sound like a brat, trying to order him around. 
“I’ll move when I’m ready,” he growls animalistically, barely holding himself back, but he needed to savour this.
You do everything you can to break his control, writhing against him like a bitch in heat. He swallows hard when you clench again. He spanks your ass hard in return, the air gets thicker, you find it harder to breathe. You keep still, the sting of your ass satisfying your craving for a moment, but not for long. 
He picks up your skirt, watching himself inside you, watching the beautiful mess you were making. So wet, so perfect, how did you ever think for a second he would ever let this go? The sight is too much, he releases a restrained groan, done with holding himself back. 
His hand grips your cheeks, turning your mouth to his, forcing his tongue down your throat as he finally pulls out only to push back in impossibly deeper. You took every punishing thrust, his presence surrounding you everywhere, even in front of you where his reflection painted the surface. He smothered you with his existence, the heat of him scolding, but you liked it, you craved it. 
“Do you think your ‘friend’ understands who you fucking belong to now detective L/n?” He chuckles deeply watching your fucked out face in the mirror.
He uses his grip under your knee to turn you towards the camera in the corner of the room.
“Think they can all see little love?” He pants. “How well you fucking take it? How good you are for me?”
You shake your head in protest but it feels too good. Your head falls back on him without the mirror to lean against. His fingers find your clit, his sole purpose to make you lose yourself to him. 
“Fuck look at you shaking baby,” he groans, feeling you pulse around him, drawing closer to the edge. “Your poor pussy just needs to come huh?”
You can hear the smirk in his tone, fucking self satisfied prick. 
“Not as badly as you need it,” you taunt back, feeling your defiance flare despite how your body was begging you to behave.. 
“Fuck you might be right,” he groans, going harder, faster. “I’m always going to need it.”
His confession takes you over, the words pushing you so hard you come apart violently, thrashing against him as you unravel, but he holds you tight. He doesn’t let you fall. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think, all you could feel was him and the burst of pleasure that carried on wave after wave, and you never wanted it to stop.
“This is mine,” he grunts as he comes undone inside of you, fucking his cum deeper until it got through to your soul. 
He was a part of you, and you could try to deny it now with his mistakes on the table, but he was so embedded in the fabric of you he couldn’t see where he began and where you ended. His entire existence was for you, it was only fair your cunt, body and soul belonged to him. Maybe the others too, as an afterthought, but you were his first.
He feels the mess slide out of you as he leaves your warmth, turning you softly so you could lean against him as you catch your breath. He holds you tight, arn arm around your middle like the steel of a bar. He has every intention of letting you recover but the way you look up at him with those glossy eyes confirms the fact he will never be satiated, he will always want more of you even if there was nothing left to give. 
“Our little love,” he breathes in your face, stealing a hard kiss, “our little downfall.”
His mouth held you prisoner again and again, humming pleasantly as you let him devour you in so many ways. His kiss was bruising, hungry, overindulging.
Your eyes search his as he parts reluctantly, your mind still hazy, the bliss of sex still circulating your body.
“Why did you lie to me?” You whisper breathlessly against his lips as you come down, and he can hear the vulnerability in your tone, it makes a guilt spread across his chest that feels almost alien. The way you could make him ache like no one else, he should cast you aside for introducing a weakness in him but he wouldn’t even dream of it.
“I didn’t want to lose you,” he confesses sincerely. “I didn’t want you to hate me.”
“I asked you not to hurt him,” your eyes tear up again, and he curses himself and the existence of Kim Suho.
“I know.”
“But you did it anyway,” you continue, “and then you had the gall to lie to my face.”
You wipe away the tears that fall harshly, your mind clearing. You push him away and fix yourself up, knowing from the glances in the mirror you were a mess.
“You always own up to your actions, right or wrong, you never hide them,” you laugh and you think you must sound psychotic. “The Kim Namjoon… I remember the days you would drop dead bodies in front of me without remorse, without ever feeling the need to explain yourself.”
“I was testing you then,” he grunts, remembering those days well. “I needed to know you had the stomach to be with us.”
“I hated you so much,” you confess, swallowing down a sob. “And for the first time since I fell in love with you Joonie, I can feel that hate grow again.”
His jaw clenches, his fist too. He could feel a threat on the tip of his lips, one where the Captain's head would end up on a plate in front of you for dinner but he holds himself back.
“You don’t mean that,” he says between gritted teeth.
“I had you fucking arrested Namjoon,” you argue back fiercely. “Don't tell me what I mean or don’t mean.”
“You also fucked me after the fact,” he states and the harsh words slap you hard. You did. You let him defile you here only moments ago.
“Old habits die hard.”
“Not with me love,” he dismisses the thought. “Not as long as I’m alive.”
“We’ll see,” you challenge, feeling that earlier conviction rise. 
“Understand something Y/n,” he says seriously, his face solemn and hard in a way you had witnessed rarely. This was Kim Namjoon with something to lose. “You can run, you can fight, you can hate me if you need to, but there isn’t a life worth living for us without you in it.”
He takes his seat back in the interrogation chair, putting his handcuffs back on with ease, all while keeping his eye contact with you. 
“You want me here, you want to punish me,” he continues, “fine, this where I’ll stay until you’re appeased, until you forgive me.”
“I won’t,” you deny, shaking your head. 
“You will.”
566 notes · View notes
The interrogation scene made my kneel go jelly, nice work 👍
THIS IS ALL I NEEDED! THIS IS A WIN 🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽
Thank you for letting me know, I hope your knees have recovered 😎 THE POWER I FEEL RIGHT KNOW
And the ideas I am having 👀👀👀👀
4 notes · View notes
baby blue I saw this post on my tumblr feed and it instantly reminded me of the joonie interrogation scene you’ve been longing to write since an eternity
https://www.tumblr.com/veronicaleighauthor/748819518245257216/edit-note-im-really-amazed-by-how-much-love-this
You called me baby blue 💜🥺💜 I’ve gone soft
THIS HIT THE NAIL ON THE HEAD 🤣🤣🤣 literally from chapter 4 I was like how, how do I get this to happen…. Dammit we’re in the healing and rebuilding phase of their relationship………….. let’s fuck it up 👀
And thus the scene was born …. Sorry for those of you who wanted things to work out after the reunion in chapter 3 😬 but I needed this chapter okay, I neeeded to write it and I’m so glad I did because I actually really enjoyed it 💜 AND THATS ALL THAT MATTERS OKAY
5 notes · View notes
Thank you thank you thank you 💜💜💜
Our Little Love part eight - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au
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Mr Kim has a chapter all to himself of 6.8K words, please enjoy and PLEASE let me know what you think. Trigger warnings: manipulation, coercion, corruption, interrogation, mentions of murder and other crimes, swearing, jealousy, possessive yandere behaviour, fingering, orgasm denial, mirror sex, light choking. I am awful with warnings, please forgive me.
Namjoon wasn’t all that impressed with seeing the Chief of police visiting his cell, the syndicate boss was dressed too well to belong there, it was almost an eyesore. A glance to the camera, the normal red blinking light absent tells him all he needs to know. There were no eyes or ears to this conversation. 
“I thought I paid you to keep your men in line,” Namjoon says in lieu of greeting. “Was a bullet to the knee not warning enough for your dear Captain?”
“He wasn’t an issue when I spoke to him, the man was on leave!” the chief replied. “Your girl was the problem he-”
“Be very careful how you finish that sentence,” he advised with a deep angry rumble from his chest. “I am well aware who is at fault here, and regardless of what our little love does, she is never to blame.”
Chief Lee Soo-man only nods once, biting back his complaints.
“I asked you to sort out Kim Suho, I told you to keep him in check,” Namjoon growls. “Keeping your pockets full isn’t an act of charity Lee, it’s a purchase. I own you.”
“Yes sir,” he mumbles in response. “I assure you this arrest is just a formality, the case won’t stand once it’s revealed Detective L/n-”
The glare the man in the blazerless three piece suit gave him was enough to stop him in his tracks. Right, he couldn’t involve you in this, that was going to make things harder than they needed to be.
“What do you recommend then sir?” he asks when he finds his voice and wavering courage. 
Namjoon sighs harshly, and the Chief swears he can almost see smoke. 
“I want to be alone with my little love,” it’s not a request, the chief didn’t let the soft lilt of his fool him. 
“I don’t know how that would be poss-”
“I want-” Namjoon cuts in, unable to bear another second of this blithering idiot, “her to be the one to interrogate me. And I can trust you understand the rest.”
“Y-yessssir,” he stutters, not completely hearing the words between the lines, and that was clear enough on his face. 
“I want her alone, Sooman,” Namjoon repeats himself, if this were one of his men he would never have needed to. “I don’t want a single soul witness to what I’m going to do to her.”
Suho tugs you along by the arm, stumbling in his urgent pace, pulling you out of ear shot.
“We have a problem.”
“What problem?”
“I’m technically on health leave, brass says I can’t interrogate him,” he stares a hole into you as if his eyes were telling you the rest but you couldn’t understand.
“Okay so who’s replacing you?”
He huffs out a breath of air from his nose, knowing you weren’t going to like the command from way over his head.
Your heart beats hard in anticipation, why was he looking at you like that?
“As far as Brass are aware you were deep undercover,” Suho informs you slowly, deliberately, looking like he was about to tear your world to trash. He sighs, unable to get the words out.
“Suho what?”
“They want you to interrogate him,” he breathes, you think you’ve misheard him, but you know you haven’t.
Your world spins, you’re already shaking your head.
“I can’t,” you whisper, he knows full well that you can’t. “I resigned, I’m not a detective anymore.”
He sighs again, hesitation in his eyes. 
“I never processed it,” he confesses.
“Y-you di-”
“I couldn’t, I knew you would see reason, I knew you would come back,” he doesn’t let you process the shock, explaining himself quickly. 
“Suho I can’t I can’t,” you beg, the conviction you had to punish them now suddenly taking a back seat as fear overtakes you, “right now they believe I was deep undercover but he’s not going to let that-“
“Listen to me,” he interrupts you before you can fully submerge into a panic attack, taking your hand in his. “I’m going to be in the next room, as soon as he says anything that compromises you, I’ll turn off the cameras, okay?”
“But-“
You’re interrupted again when the door opens, both of you whipping your heads to see him being transferred by four officers to the interrogation room. His eyes find you, staring stoic holes into you before his gaze finds Suho’s hands comforting yours. The snarl of displeasure is brief but you definitely see it, and you can’t breathe.
Suho draws your attention back to him, tugging your hand softly.
“Do you trust me Y/n?” he implores you, eyes searching yours in a way that made Namjoon want to strangle him with the chains on his handcuffs. You look up at your Captain with such light in your eyes, a way you should never look at another man, and then you have the audacity to nod. 
You’ve done this a hundred times, if not more. So why were you hesitating at the door? Your hand on the handle, all you had to do was turn it and face the music but you couldn’t even manage finding your breath. 
Interrogation was a science, it was like riding a bike, you knew what you had to do, you had to command the room. It almost sounded like a joke, the worst one you’d ever heard. Command a room when Kim Namjoon was in it? 
The thought makes you hyperventilate. No, it wasn’t going to be easy but you could control what you could. You borrowed clothes from an old colleague, a skirt and blouse, simple but professional. Suho’s old blazer too, as if layers would protect you. You had splashed water on your face in the bathroom, using makeup from evidence to make yourself look presentable, composed. Your impromptu freshening up had meant you left the syndicate leader waiting for a long time, and it absolutely 100% was not because you were trying to kill time, it was to make him stew in the room, a technique you had used multiple times prev- who were you trying to convince? 
You needed to get this over with. 
Your face is impassive when you finally open the door, his gaze is on you immediately and you can feel a certain type of guilt and shame try to seep its way into you, but you push it down far enough that you can pretend it’s not there.
“Mr Kim Namjoon,” you greet him stoically.
“Detective L/n,” he returns, playing along with a small smile, as if seeing an old acquaintance after a long time. The way he addressed you shouldn’t cut you, logically it made no sense not when you’re the one that got him in the box, but it did. 
You approach the table he’s chained to, looking at the wood instead of his eyes as if he didn’t matter, or at least that’s how you wanted it perceived. Avoiding eye contact with the most dangerous man the whole country had ever come to know, meant you missed the way his stare moved to your clothes, particularly your blazer, recognising it was a man’s, and he could confidently guess exactly who it belonged to. Any friendliness on his face disappeared, he wanted to play games and now he just wanted to torture you a little, punish you for you actions. Patience, he tells himself, that would come later.
The file in your hands slaps the table as you throw it down, taking a seat opposite your boyfriend, a man you now convinced yourself you wanted behind bars. 
What do they say about a woman scorned? Namjoon thinks to himself, admiring the fire he could see burning underneath your skin, and though he knew he would feel the burn, he would welcome it. It was no secret that he had a fantasy about you interrogating him, he introduced the role play to the bedroom soon after your return to them but it lacked the flames of heat he could feel today. 
“Allow me to formally introduce myself,” you reply. “My name is detective Y/n L/n, I’ve been undercover at your… establishment for the past year and a half.”
“Is that right?” he barely suppressed his amusement but it didn’t phase you. Your professional head was on, this was just another criminal you had to put away, that was it. 
You open the file, sliding out photos of him that you had sent in as intel in your early days undercover as well as surveillance photos that Suho had taken since you were MIA. 
“Do you know who this man is Mr Kim,” you say, sliding the first of the photos to him.
“Can’t say I do detective,” he shrugs nonchalantly, not even glancing away from you. 
“Do you want to try looking at his face first before you answer,” you insisted unimpressed. 
He smiles, still staring at you. 
“I don’t recognise him,” he repeats himself slowly. 
“So this isn’t you in the photo?” You ask.
“I don’t know,” his grin only grows.
“This man, Jackson Wang, is dead, and the last person who saw him alive seems to have been you Mr Kim, at least based on the time stamp on this photo and the time of death from the post mortem.”
“Is that right,” he says again, sounding like a broken record. His eyes swim with admiration for you, you can see it though you can’t understand it at all with the current scene. Why wasn’t he fuming, why wasn’t he demanding an answer or explanation?
“Okay let's cut the crap since I know you’re far too clever for that Mr Kim,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes. “I have gathered evidence of your crimes from the last 18 months, and I will stand in court as a witness against you.”
“Are you allowed to do that little love?” he asks, the name has a pang of panic hit you, but you tell yourself you can explain it away to brass.
“The charges you're facing so far are murder, battery, and grand larceny to name a few,” you state ignoring him, flicking through the photos, throwing each one in front of him. “There are many more to follow.”
“I didn’t know partners could testify against each other,” he mused, smirk still strong on his face.
“I’m not your partner,” you object. “I was undercover.”
“No,” he contends, shaking his head like this was just a game to him. “You can’t fake a love like ours, heaven.”
You almost snort as if his point was ridiculous.
“I don’t think I could ever love someone like you Mr Kim,” your stare was ice cold, that finally wipes the smile off his face. 
“You’re angry,” he states as if it was new information for you. “I get that little love, but this is a bit too much, don’t you think?”
“I think justice needs to be served, don't you?” you sneered. “People got hurt, some people died, someone needs to pay.”
“You and I both know they deserved it,” he declares as if there wasn’t a camera recording his confession. “You’re just angry because I stepped on a bug.”
Utter rage brewed like a storm in your chest, and you wanted the downpour to drown him. 
“You sound like you’re ready to sign the confession Mr Kim,” you don’t break your stare. “That’s great, saves us a lot of time, thank you.”
You close the file, pushing the chair back to stand. 
“I’m not done with you,” he growled.
“But I’m done with you.” 
“Y/n sit,” he commands calmly, composing himself. “Throwing a fit isn’t going to fix things.”
“Throwing a fit?” The audacity of this man, you stand there in shock. 
“Let’s talk it through,” he says to you as if you were being hysterical. 
“Fuck you,” you spit. 
“Talk to me Y/n,” he scolded you like you were a child. “Without this bullshit.”
“Fine! You wanna talk about it Namjoon,” you snapped, taking the seat again, throwing the file haphazardly on the desk. “Let’s talk about it.”
The glare you present him with doesn’t make him flinch, it doesn’t phase him. You hope Suho had enough sense to turn the cameras off by now, this would go nowhere. 
“You manipulated me, you lied to me, you made me play the fool.”
He didn’t react, not a single muscle on his face moved and it fanned whatever flame explode inside of you like a bomb. This was his true colours underneath the mask of love and adoration he created for you.
“You don’t have to pretend anymore Namjoon I can see right through you,” you state. “And you are never touching me again.”
That made him look at you, really look at you, something shifted in his gaze, a slight smirk as if he was mocking you.
You could cry kick and scream about the injustice he put you through in the name of this fucked up love and he wouldn’t flinch. He would sit there and watch and then the fucker would have the audacity to laugh afterwards. He must’ve laughed at how stupid you were in trusting him when he lied.
“At least if you go to prison, I’ll finally be free,” you whisper like it’s a life line.
He’s still unmoved, sitting there as if you were invisible and it irked the fuck out of you. He was the one who wanted to talk, why the fuck was he silent now? 
You wanted him to hurt you wanted him to feel an ounce of what you did in the light of his betrayal. He tore your heart out and you weren’t going to forgive him.
“I must’ve looked so pathetic,” you say in a self deprecating tone, looking at the ceiling as if someone could answer you. “Suho was right.”
That comment makes his blood boil hard enough to show on his face. There it was, the reaction you were waiting for and you took the bait without thinking about what you were trying to catch or what you were trapped with.
“I should’ve trusted him, he’s always had my back and my best interest at heart.”
His jaw clenches, a fist squeezing nothing but air although he probably wished it was the captain's neck.
“Kai and Suho are all I have left,” you goad him, unsure of what exactly it was that you wanted to prove. “And finally I’m back where I belong.”
“If you don’t want a bullet in each of their heads, you need to stop talking love,” he grunts through gritted teeth.
Something inside of you felt vindicated and you realise then what you wanted from him, proof he fucking cared, that you weren’t some pawn or prize in this game of crime. You wanted him to soothe the very cuts he caused, or rip your heart out hard enough that you could bleed him out of your system forever.
“Oh please Namjoon, just admit why you kept me around for so long,” you scoff. “I can only imagine how it felt to have the lead detective on your case in the palm of your hands, like a trophy, a big fuck you to the justice system.”
You laugh sounding a little maniacal.
“You had me, and I fell for all of it.”
“You’re forgetting I didn’t know your true origins at first little love,” his low voice is a warning, he looks at you like he needed to remind you who you belonged to.
“And you’re forgetting I know you,” you bite back. “Any hint of betrayal and you pull the trigger first and ask questions later.”
He stares at you, grimacing.
“And yet here I am, alive.”
“Because I love you,” he says it so casually it throws you off, like it was a fundamental part of his being, like breathing.
“Because you saw an opportunity,” you rationalise.
“Because I could never lose you,” he confesses. “You could rip out my heart, little love and I would still want you, why else would I be here?”
You frown, what did he mean? He was here because you paid an eye for an eye, you betrayed him.
“What’s done is done,” you say as if you were unconcerned. “I will testify against you.”
He leans closer across the table, words for your ears only.
“Do you think you’ll be able to handle seeing Jungkook in prison, love?” Namjoon whispers. “Knowing you put him there? It would kill you.”
The pain his words brought forth only proved them to be true. You did have a soft spot for the youngest, always had. You break eye contact first, looking down at the file and turning back and forth a page as if in contemplation but really to cool your nerves.
Were you really doing this? Sending Yoongi, Jin, Hoseok, Jimin, Tae and Kookie to jail because of an angry outburst? Now your emotions had time to settle after the bomb that exploded when you saw Suho; you weren’t so sure.
“I never thought you could betray us like this,” he says solemnly, continuing to manipulate your guilt, but he forgot about your fire. He could almost see the coals ignite in your eyes, a misstep on his part, one he realised when a snarl forms on your lips.
“You. Lied.” You state ferociously. “I asked you if you hurt him and you lied to me.”
“So you decided to have us all arrested,” he continues, “for a man you stated you didn’t care about like that.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” you seethe, unable to sit with him any longer, pacing the room before you raised a finger to his face. “You played me like a fool Namjoon, and I refuse to play the part anymore.”
“I wanted him dead, little love,” he states in a low voice through gritted teeth. “Do you understand what a mercy-”
“I asked you not to hurt him!”
“Then you underestimated our wrath!” he retorted. “I couldn’t let him go in one piece, and you didn’t need to know.”
“No. You underestimated MY wrath Kim Namjoon!” You burst, slamming the desk with your hand, the sting burning, your face heating more and more with rage as it concealed your heartache. “I am not some docile doll for you to play with, and manipulate and LIE TO! You took my love for granted when it was a damn fucking privilege.”
Your chest heaves with each breath, he stayed composed while you looked like a wild animal finally let out of her cage.
“You think this obsession is love,” your voice broke at the last word, the floods of heartbreak dampening the fires. “And I did too, but it’s fucked up everything.”
His silence was eating you alive, his face giving nothing of his heart away while yours laid bare out between you.
“You know what I’m done,” you breathe, “have fun rotting in jail Namjoon.”
Tears drop out of the corner of your eyes as you walk away, his piercing gaze doing nothing to deter you. He might’ve had power over you once but that was before he betrayed you. You reach for the door handle, tugging, ready to leave him behind until his trial, but the door doesn’t budge. You still, mind blank for a second before panic overwhelms you. You try again with all your might, pulling as hard as you can over and over before releasing your grip with a harsh breath. You take a gulp, calming yourself, he planned this.
You’re not surprised when you hear the sound of the handcuffs undo or the chains hit the floor. Fucking bastard. An alarm started blaring in the building, loud and overwhelming, but it came too late. Red lights flash, the room glowing as if warning you about the oncoming danger.
“Are we done with your outburst little love,” he says coldly, like your grievances were nothing more than a tantrum.
You turn to face him slowly, more tears dropping without a sound, shaking your head at the way his words cut you down to nothing.
When he stands from the seat your heart gallops with fear and panic. Although it’s helpless you turn back to the door, trying with all your might to open it and escape him. The fire alarm blaring does nothing to ease you, you hang onto the door as you feel him approach, tears falling out of your eyes without control.
Fuck, you were stuck here with the man you sent to jail, you were left to his mercy. His presence looms over you, you can feel him a hair's width behind you, not touching you, not really, but he’s so close it’s overwhelming.
It’s when you feel his breath you freeze, your body shutting down with dread. He presses his cheek to your hair, inhaling you softly. The action makes you jolt away, turning to the side but he grabs your wrist tightly. You don’t look at him, you stare into the two way mirror, your cheeks pathetically wet. You were supposed to hold the power in this room, but you could feel it dwindle away to nothing but smoke.
You’re slammed against the door hard, a whimper escaping your lips as your eyes scrunched in pain. You miss the flash of guilt in his eyes, realising he pushed you too hard. An apology on his lips but the glare when your eyes open stops him. He’s seen anger in your eyes before, hate even, for he knew love didn’t come without it. But fear? Never of him, not even in the days when you were undercover and your life was one unveiled secret away from ending. 
“Get away from me,” you seethe, meaning every word, even when you saw the hurt in his eyes. 
Regret, Kim Namjoon never knew the feeling before, but he knew he never wanted you to look at him the way you were. He needed to keep his calm, one wrong push and you would tear him out of your own heart.
Your eyes fly all over the room, trying to piece together a way to gain some distance. Suho… maybe he was still behind the glass. You tug your wrist as hard as you can, taking steps away from him but his hold is relentless. The blare of the alarm stops ringing but the flashing red lights remain, staining the walls like blood pumping.
“Little lo-“ he starts to say with a sigh, he was being patient but there was only so much time left.
“Suho?” You call desperately trying to look through the glass. You know you’ve made a mistake before you even said his name but fear drives people to do stupid things without thinking.
The most notorious criminal in all of Seoul pulls you back against his chest hard. An arm wraps around your waist, the unforgiving grip on your wrist turning lethal. He rests his chin on your shoulder, staring at you through the mirror. The hairs on your skin stood on end at the frightening change in his eyes, danger rolled off of him and you had no choice but to take every wave.
“Do you think he’s there, love?” The corner of his lip lifts in a smirk that makes you think of a snake, the saccharine tone of his voice hypnotising. “Do you think he’s watching us?”
The palm on your hip moves down to your thigh, he squeezes the flesh. You could feel your heart jumping in your throat.
“Should we give him something to watch?” He murmurs seductively, turning his head to bring his lips so close to your neck. The bruising clutch on your wrist is gone only to find its way to your hair, yanking it back to give himself better access.
Your eyes in the mirror are begging but the inner turmoil from his touch is making you question what exactly you’re asking for. Reason tells you it’s for Suho to save you, to grant you escape, but the way you feel a familiar heat swim to your core has you doubting yourself.
“If he was in there,” he whispers, his lips now on your ear, “don’t you think he’d come in here and try to take you from me, love?”
He chuckles to himself, a joke only he can understand.
“Fuck I’d love to see him try.”
His groan has you aching, your body relapsing to what it knows, anticipating the pleasure and pain only they could provide. 
​​“I’m not mad at you for having us arrested, heaven,” he whispers in your ear, gaze softening for a second in the mirror lulling you into a sense of security you couldn’t tell if it was a trap. “In fact I’m a little in awe, a little proud.”
The smirk he gives you seems genuine.
“We deserved it I know,” reassurance fills his voice, he wants you to hear his sincerity. “What I’m mad about, little love…”
The softness is gone, eyes turn piercing, the proverbial snake about to strike.
“Is the fact you let another man touch what’s mine.”
The guttural rumble of his possessive claim sent waves of need down to your cunt, you could feel it pulsing. 
“I’m mine,” you return meekly, trying to find your resolve, but it sounded like a whine.
“Make no mistake Y/n, you’re always going to be mine.”
You didn’t have it in you to argue, not when he sent your eyes rolling back and a shiver down your spine. Fuck he hadn’t even touched you yet, maybe it was true, maybe a part of you would always belong to them, but that didn’t mean all if you did.
“Look at me,” he commands, his breath hitting your neck.
Your blown out eyes meet him in the mirror, that predatory but protective gaze piercing through you. He hums in approval the deep vibration fucking with your senses, making you hazy. 
You both hold eye contact even when you can see the fingers on your thigh stroke soothing circles up your skin. Your lips part with a harsh breath when they rub your mound through the fabric of your panties, the touch light and testing and not nearly enough. 
“You’re fucking soaking wet baby,” he calls you out with a grin.
You grab his wrist when his fingers cup your heat, his thumb soothing circles on your clit. You press against him, the warmth of his chest enveloping your back. You both fit so well together, you were forgetting why exactly you were so angry at him, but simmers of it still remained even through his touch. 
“You know,” he says, opening your leg with his knee to give him more access, “a lot of couples fuck through their problems, should we try?”
He hides his grin, burying his head in you but you can feel it against your skin, the arrogant asshole. 
“You can go and fuck yourself,” you sassed back, lying to yourself that you could be fine if he stopped now, that it wouldn’t leave you a needy mess. 
“But I’d rather fuck you,” he chuckles, breathing you in, savouring the moment while his fingers slide the fabric aside. 
You choke back a moan at the contact of his skin right where you wanted him, the way he spread your wetness until every inch of you was covered in it. 
“You can pretend to regret our relationship all you want, but this,” he emphasises his point by slapping your cunt hard, making you gasp, “still wants me.”
“It wants to get fucked,” you spitefully remark through gritted teeth, “doesn’t have to be you.”
That makes him pause, and you have to bite back the words of displeasure. 
“You’ll pay for that next time love,” he murmurs dangerously. 
“There won’t be a next time,” you try to ridicule him through a laugh but his fingers circle your entrance. 
“You’re lying,” he hums, “next time, I think we should tie you down, make you watch other women touch us in ways only you’re allowed to.”
You bury the fury that ruptures at the image, clenching your jaw to keep from swearing at him and proving the point he was trying to make.
“Maybe then you’d have a semblance of understanding of what you did- the torture you put us through.”
“I wouldn’t care,” you breathe, squirming against his fingers, he needed to shut up and move.
“Liar,” he chuckles knowingly, seeing right through you. Before you, there were many females in his organisation, until his little love demanded he get rid of them all. The memory stretches his grin wider. 
“Why the fuck was it me?” You whisper, your eyes starting to water at the vulnerability of your tone, remembering the same moment he was. “When I went undercover there were so many beautiful women-“
“They’re not you, little love, don’t for a second compare yourself to them,” he kisses your temple softly in reassurance. His face is in your hair, his hand on your throat as you preen to his touch. “You were sweet and addicting with a fire you were trying so desperately to contain.”
He thrusts two fingers in gently, watching your face contort in want in the mirror, smiling at the way your eyes rolled back. You whimper when he squeezes his grip on your neck.
“To think that passion we saw in your eyes was hatred at first,” he smiles as if amused, watching every little reaction you gave him, every proof of love.
“I did,” you confess, pressing your ass against his hard length and making him groan, “I hated you.”
“You were sent to destroy us, love, but instead you reached into our souls and thought there was something worth saving,” he chuckled, nuzzling into you softly as if he wasn’t knuckle deep inside of you, feeling every part he knew so well. “And save us you did, it was so dark before you our little light, how could we ever let you leave?”
“You’re fucking with my head,” you whimper, head falling back to his chest, it rumbles when he laughs.
“Hmmm? I’m definitely fucking your brains out today Y/n,” he promises with a chuckle, kissing your temple again, but emphasising his point when he scissors his fingers reading you for his cock. “If that’s what you mean.”
This was your fault, you knew what you were getting into when you fell for them. You especially knew Namjoon was the worst of them all. You let his soft side brush away his true nature, and while you never forgot his ruthless persona, you put it to the back of your mind. You foolishly thought you had tamed his cunning cold cruel- 
“Oh fuck,” whatever train of thought you had died, the palm of his hand rubbing your clit, stimulating your already aching cunt to the edge. Your parted lips open wider to release a silent scream, his fingers stroking so deep.
You were so close, you could taste it, unable to control the delirious sounds escaping you. So when he stops and slips his fingers away from you, you have to stop yourself screaming in protest. 
“Up against the mirror Y/n,” he commands gruffly, but you don’t move, you were so fucking close. Fuck him, fucking asshole, you were so fucking close. 
He picks you up with ease, pushing you against the wall so your breath fogs the surface. You hear the zip pull down, your forehead falls forward, your core pulsing in anticipation. He grabs your leg, opening you for him, the head of his cock sliding across your folds until you're whining.
“Stop squirming love,” he warns, but you don’t listen, of course you don’t, so he makes you listen. 
The sound you release when he slaps your clit with his hard dick over and over has him questioning his restraint, fuck he wants to just pound into you but you needed to be taught a fucking lesson. 
“Joonie sensitive,” you whine, but he’s relentless, making you cry out over and over. Fuck you could actually maybe cum like this. 
His self control wavers, his jaw clenched with such a force he thinks it’ll shatter. He couldn’t take it anymore, the swell of his head finds your entrance. Inch by inch, he relishes the feeling of your walls hugging him so fucking tight, the pulse of them pulling him in. He leans over you, trying to regain composure but you feel so good he doesn’t want to move, he wants to stay like this forever, inside of you where he belongs. 
You try to push back into him, but he grabs your waist with one hand to keep you still, grinding his hips against you and he knows it’s not enough. 
“Look at you arching your back little love,” he smirks, “Your body knows where you belong, it’s a shame you tried to take it away from me.”
Your hands ball into fists on the mirror, you can’t even look at yourself right now, you can’t stop writhing on the surface, trying so hard to get him to move. You squeeze him hard, making his head fall against you with a grunt. 
“Behave little love,” he warns, “or I’ll show your colleagues just how well you can take me.”
“Make me,” you dare him even though it comes out as a mumble. 
You were dizzy and disorientated and all you wanted was for him to fucking move. He pushes you against the wall hard, every inch of him covering you so you couldn’t budge. You whine, the cold of the hard surface making you seek his warm body, you slot against him like a damn puzzle piece. He was hell bent on torturing you today, as if you hadn’t suffered enough. 
“Joonie move,” you almost sound like a brat, trying to order him around. 
“I’ll move when I’m ready,” he growls animalistically, barely holding himself back, but he needed to savour this.
You do everything you can to break his control, writhing against him like a bitch in heat. He swallows hard when you clench again. He spanks your ass hard in return, the air gets thicker, you find it harder to breathe. You keep still, the sting of your ass satisfying your craving for a moment, but not for long. 
He picks up your skirt, watching himself inside you, watching the beautiful mess you were making. So wet, so perfect, how did you ever think for a second he would ever let this go? The sight is too much, he releases a restrained groan, done with holding himself back. 
His hand grips your cheeks, turning your mouth to his, forcing his tongue down your throat as he finally pulls out only to push back in impossibly deeper. You took every punishing thrust, his presence surrounding you everywhere, even in front of you where his reflection painted the surface. He smothered you with his existence, the heat of him scolding, but you liked it, you craved it. 
“Do you think your ‘friend’ understands who you fucking belong to now detective L/n?” He chuckles deeply watching your fucked out face in the mirror.
He uses his grip under your knee to turn you towards the camera in the corner of the room.
“Think they can all see little love?” He pants. “How well you fucking take it? How good you are for me?”
You shake your head in protest but it feels too good. Your head falls back on him without the mirror to lean against. His fingers find your clit, his sole purpose to make you lose yourself to him. 
“Fuck look at you shaking baby,” he groans, feeling you pulse around him, drawing closer to the edge. “Your poor pussy just needs to come huh?”
You can hear the smirk in his tone, fucking self satisfied prick. 
“Not as badly as you need it,” you taunt back, feeling your defiance flare despite how your body was begging you to behave.. 
“Fuck you might be right,” he groans, going harder, faster. “I’m always going to need it.”
His confession takes you over, the words pushing you so hard you come apart violently, thrashing against him as you unravel, but he holds you tight. He doesn’t let you fall. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think, all you could feel was him and the burst of pleasure that carried on wave after wave, and you never wanted it to stop.
“This is mine,” he grunts as he comes undone inside of you, fucking his cum deeper until it got through to your soul. 
He was a part of you, and you could try to deny it now with his mistakes on the table, but he was so embedded in the fabric of you he couldn’t see where he began and where you ended. His entire existence was for you, it was only fair your cunt, body and soul belonged to him. Maybe the others too, as an afterthought, but you were his first.
He feels the mess slide out of you as he leaves your warmth, turning you softly so you could lean against him as you catch your breath. He holds you tight, arn arm around your middle like the steel of a bar. He has every intention of letting you recover but the way you look up at him with those glossy eyes confirms the fact he will never be satiated, he will always want more of you even if there was nothing left to give. 
“Our little love,” he breathes in your face, stealing a hard kiss, “our little downfall.”
His mouth held you prisoner again and again, humming pleasantly as you let him devour you in so many ways. His kiss was bruising, hungry, overindulging.
Your eyes search his as he parts reluctantly, your mind still hazy, the bliss of sex still circulating your body.
“Why did you lie to me?” You whisper breathlessly against his lips as you come down, and he can hear the vulnerability in your tone, it makes a guilt spread across his chest that feels almost alien. The way you could make him ache like no one else, he should cast you aside for introducing a weakness in him but he wouldn’t even dream of it.
“I didn’t want to lose you,” he confesses sincerely. “I didn’t want you to hate me.”
“I asked you not to hurt him,” your eyes tear up again, and he curses himself and the existence of Kim Suho.
“I know.”
“But you did it anyway,” you continue, “and then you had the gall to lie to my face.”
You wipe away the tears that fall harshly, your mind clearing. You push him away and fix yourself up, knowing from the glances in the mirror you were a mess.
“You always own up to your actions, right or wrong, you never hide them,” you laugh and you think you must sound psychotic. “The Kim Namjoon… I remember the days you would drop dead bodies in front of me without remorse, without ever feeling the need to explain yourself.”
“I was testing you then,” he grunts, remembering those days well. “I needed to know you had the stomach to be with us.”
“I hated you so much,” you confess, swallowing down a sob. “And for the first time since I fell in love with you Joonie, I can feel that hate grow again.”
His jaw clenches, his fist too. He could feel a threat on the tip of his lips, one where the Captain's head would end up on a plate in front of you for dinner but he holds himself back.
“You don’t mean that,” he says between gritted teeth.
“I had you fucking arrested Namjoon,” you argue back fiercely. “Don't tell me what I mean or don’t mean.”
“You also fucked me after the fact,” he states and the harsh words slap you hard. You did. You let him defile you here only moments ago.
“Old habits die hard.”
“Not with me love,” he dismisses the thought. “Not as long as I’m alive.”
“We’ll see,” you challenge, feeling that earlier conviction rise. 
“Understand something Y/n,” he says seriously, his face solemn and hard in a way you had witnessed rarely. This was Kim Namjoon with something to lose. “You can run, you can fight, you can hate me if you need to, but there isn’t a life worth living for us without you in it.”
He takes his seat back in the interrogation chair, putting his handcuffs back on with ease, all while keeping his eye contact with you. 
“You want me here, you want to punish me,” he continues, “fine, this where I’ll stay until you’re appeased, until you forgive me.”
“I won’t,” you deny, shaking your head. 
“You will.”
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What will happen to out girl & Suho next ? I’m starting to worry about them now 😨
Stay tuned to find out 😎😎😎
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Just me fangirling every day since you decided to answer my message thinking on the fact that my wirter crush answered me! 😭 Blue! How many times I tought about the fact that I would love to have a book written by you on my hands to keep and cherish forever while I was on my way to read all you have shared! 💜 An now that I've read the lattest chapter of OLL 🥴 I'm done! I will religiously follow you to see and enjoy what you have to tell us trough your stories!
You ask me to tell you which is my fav story so far, but it's nearly impossible! Instead may I say WHY I love each one? Let me tell you that the first story I read was The CEO BTS one, and to say that I was speachless is little compared to what I really felt! I forgot about time and got lost and carried away by your style of writing! I was (still am) so enamoured of the fact that you write Bangtan so well! I can perfectly picture everyone doing what you say on every scene. For example, I remember the scene when MC was locked away on the archive room and everyone was trying to coax her open the door asking what happened but Hobi was the one who went to actually investigate what happened going to see on the security cameras, I nearly yelled: OF COURSE IT WAS MY MAN! That's so hecking OC of him! 😫 Think there was the point when you bewitched me 😂 I'm OT7 but Hobi is my forever bias ❤️ Rhen when I started reading OLL and got to the point when we saw Hobi's sadistic side 👁️👄👁️... Well, I've never before harboured thoughts of him doing that kind of stuff but it was so perfect that it just makes total sense with his personality 😂
And then I got to read Bleeding butterflies 😭 and I have zero regrets of not sleeping those days because I was so hooked on the world you created! The way you describe every member with them powers that fits so well! The way you included that awesome scenes with Taetae speaking to Erebos, Nyx and the other gods! The scene with the fairies emerging from the woods 😍 Blue you have my eternal gratitude for letting me experience that universe along my seven boyfriends 😭
I hope this long long letter doesn't botter you 🥹 but I have a ton of compliments to write, because as I previosly told you, I've been on a rollercoastee of emotions reading your works ❤️ The last story I read was Harbouring an hybrid 😭 and I'm so worried for Jiminshi that it brakes my heart to pieces! Altought I still harbour some hope 😭
Big thank you for answering my message and hope you know how amazing and how talented you are! 🫣 Sorry! Much text... By now you must know how passionately I express myself 😂 I left much toughts unsaid! Like how I adored The royal bodiguards AU 💜 and every What if story 😍 specially the Hybrids! Because You take care of details and explain every hecking fact too well it blows my mind!
Okok love u and goodnight!
😭😭😭 do you know how many times I’ve reread this 🥺🥺🥺 I actually want to bawl my eyes out this was everything 💜💜💜 you can have whatever the hell you want from me lovely, whatever update chapter new fic idea spoilers etc etc whatever you want it’s yours I don’t even care anymore that was everything 🥹🥹🥹
My universes are so close to my heart so when someone appreciates them like this I just get so soft 😭
I am keeping you forever and ever and ever don’t even THINK about leaving me I will riot and go on hiatus until you come back 🥺 …..no pressure 🤣🤣
I’ve actually reread harbouring a hybrid because I need to update it it’s been too long and I forgot how sad I made it 👀 even I was like what the hell
Please take my heart and all my love 💜
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Am I tripping or is your mlist gone? I can’t find it😔
A few people have said the same so it’s now my pinned post lovely 💜
And I’ll drop you a link below
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I forgot to mention (as you do) I HAVE BEEN WANTING TO WRITE AN INTERROGATION SCENE BETWEEN THESE TWO FOREVER (since chapter three maybe?) AND I AM ACTUALLY QUITE PLEASED WITH MYSELF
Our Little Love part eight - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au
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Mr Kim has a chapter all to himself of 6.8K words, please enjoy and PLEASE let me know what you think. Trigger warnings: manipulation, coercion, corruption, interrogation, mentions of murder and other crimes, swearing, jealousy, possessive yandere behaviour, fingering, orgasm denial, mirror sex, light choking. I am awful with warnings, please forgive me.
Namjoon wasn’t all that impressed with seeing the Chief of police visiting his cell, the syndicate boss was dressed too well to belong there, it was almost an eyesore. A glance to the camera, the normal red blinking light absent tells him all he needs to know. There were no eyes or ears to this conversation. 
“I thought I paid you to keep your men in line,” Namjoon says in lieu of greeting. “Was a bullet to the knee not warning enough for your dear Captain?”
“He wasn’t an issue when I spoke to him, the man was on leave!” the chief replied. “Your girl was the problem he-”
“Be very careful how you finish that sentence,” he advised with a deep angry rumble from his chest. “I am well aware who is at fault here, and regardless of what our little love does, she is never to blame.”
Chief Lee Soo-man only nods once, biting back his complaints.
“I asked you to sort out Kim Suho, I told you to keep him in check,” Namjoon growls. “Keeping your pockets full isn’t an act of charity Lee, it’s a purchase. I own you.”
“Yes sir,” he mumbles in response. “I assure you this arrest is just a formality, the case won’t stand once it’s revealed Detective L/n-”
The glare the man in the blazerless three piece suit gave him was enough to stop him in his tracks. Right, he couldn’t involve you in this, that was going to make things harder than they needed to be.
“What do you recommend then sir?” he asks when he finds his voice and wavering courage. 
Namjoon sighs harshly, and the Chief swears he can almost see smoke. 
“I want to be alone with my little love,” it’s not a request, the chief didn’t let the soft lilt of his fool him. 
“I don’t know how that would be poss-”
“I want-” Namjoon cuts in, unable to bear another second of this blithering idiot, “her to be the one to interrogate me. And I can trust you understand the rest.”
“Y-yessssir,” he stutters, not completely hearing the words between the lines, and that was clear enough on his face. 
“I want her alone, Sooman,” Namjoon repeats himself, if this were one of his men he would never have needed to. “I don’t want a single soul witness to what I’m going to do to her.”
Suho tugs you along by the arm, stumbling in his urgent pace, pulling you out of ear shot.
“We have a problem.”
“What problem?”
“I’m technically on health leave, brass says I can’t interrogate him,” he stares a hole into you as if his eyes were telling you the rest but you couldn’t understand.
“Okay so who’s replacing you?”
He huffs out a breath of air from his nose, knowing you weren’t going to like the command from way over his head.
Your heart beats hard in anticipation, why was he looking at you like that?
“As far as Brass are aware you were deep undercover,” Suho informs you slowly, deliberately, looking like he was about to tear your world to trash. He sighs, unable to get the words out.
“Suho what?”
“They want you to interrogate him,” he breathes, you think you’ve misheard him, but you know you haven’t.
Your world spins, you’re already shaking your head.
“I can’t,” you whisper, he knows full well that you can’t. “I resigned, I’m not a detective anymore.”
He sighs again, hesitation in his eyes. 
“I never processed it,” he confesses.
“Y-you di-”
“I couldn’t, I knew you would see reason, I knew you would come back,” he doesn’t let you process the shock, explaining himself quickly. 
“Suho I can’t I can’t,” you beg, the conviction you had to punish them now suddenly taking a back seat as fear overtakes you, “right now they believe I was deep undercover but he’s not going to let that-“
“Listen to me,” he interrupts you before you can fully submerge into a panic attack, taking your hand in his. “I’m going to be in the next room, as soon as he says anything that compromises you, I’ll turn off the cameras, okay?”
“But-“
You’re interrupted again when the door opens, both of you whipping your heads to see him being transferred by four officers to the interrogation room. His eyes find you, staring stoic holes into you before his gaze finds Suho’s hands comforting yours. The snarl of displeasure is brief but you definitely see it, and you can’t breathe.
Suho draws your attention back to him, tugging your hand softly.
“Do you trust me Y/n?” he implores you, eyes searching yours in a way that made Namjoon want to strangle him with the chains on his handcuffs. You look up at your Captain with such light in your eyes, a way you should never look at another man, and then you have the audacity to nod. 
You’ve done this a hundred times, if not more. So why were you hesitating at the door? Your hand on the handle, all you had to do was turn it and face the music but you couldn’t even manage finding your breath. 
Interrogation was a science, it was like riding a bike, you knew what you had to do, you had to command the room. It almost sounded like a joke, the worst one you’d ever heard. Command a room when Kim Namjoon was in it? 
The thought makes you hyperventilate. No, it wasn’t going to be easy but you could control what you could. You borrowed clothes from an old colleague, a skirt and blouse, simple but professional. Suho’s old blazer too, as if layers would protect you. You had splashed water on your face in the bathroom, using makeup from evidence to make yourself look presentable, composed. Your impromptu freshening up had meant you left the syndicate leader waiting for a long time, and it absolutely 100% was not because you were trying to kill time, it was to make him stew in the room, a technique you had used multiple times prev- who were you trying to convince? 
You needed to get this over with. 
Your face is impassive when you finally open the door, his gaze is on you immediately and you can feel a certain type of guilt and shame try to seep its way into you, but you push it down far enough that you can pretend it’s not there.
“Mr Kim Namjoon,” you greet him stoically.
“Detective L/n,” he returns, playing along with a small smile, as if seeing an old acquaintance after a long time. The way he addressed you shouldn’t cut you, logically it made no sense not when you’re the one that got him in the box, but it did. 
You approach the table he’s chained to, looking at the wood instead of his eyes as if he didn’t matter, or at least that’s how you wanted it perceived. Avoiding eye contact with the most dangerous man the whole country had ever come to know, meant you missed the way his stare moved to your clothes, particularly your blazer, recognising it was a man’s, and he could confidently guess exactly who it belonged to. Any friendliness on his face disappeared, he wanted to play games and now he just wanted to torture you a little, punish you for you actions. Patience, he tells himself, that would come later.
The file in your hands slaps the table as you throw it down, taking a seat opposite your boyfriend, a man you now convinced yourself you wanted behind bars. 
What do they say about a woman scorned? Namjoon thinks to himself, admiring the fire he could see burning underneath your skin, and though he knew he would feel the burn, he would welcome it. It was no secret that he had a fantasy about you interrogating him, he introduced the role play to the bedroom soon after your return to them but it lacked the flames of heat he could feel today. 
“Allow me to formally introduce myself,” you reply. “My name is detective Y/n L/n, I’ve been undercover at your… establishment for the past year and a half.”
“Is that right?” he barely suppressed his amusement but it didn’t phase you. Your professional head was on, this was just another criminal you had to put away, that was it. 
You open the file, sliding out photos of him that you had sent in as intel in your early days undercover as well as surveillance photos that Suho had taken since you were MIA. 
“Do you know who this man is Mr Kim,” you say, sliding the first of the photos to him.
“Can’t say I do detective,” he shrugs nonchalantly, not even glancing away from you. 
“Do you want to try looking at his face first before you answer,” you insisted unimpressed. 
He smiles, still staring at you. 
“I don’t recognise him,” he repeats himself slowly. 
“So this isn’t you in the photo?” You ask.
“I don’t know,” his grin only grows.
“This man, Jackson Wang, is dead, and the last person who saw him alive seems to have been you Mr Kim, at least based on the time stamp on this photo and the time of death from the post mortem.”
“Is that right,” he says again, sounding like a broken record. His eyes swim with admiration for you, you can see it though you can’t understand it at all with the current scene. Why wasn’t he fuming, why wasn’t he demanding an answer or explanation?
“Okay let's cut the crap since I know you’re far too clever for that Mr Kim,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes. “I have gathered evidence of your crimes from the last 18 months, and I will stand in court as a witness against you.”
“Are you allowed to do that little love?” he asks, the name has a pang of panic hit you, but you tell yourself you can explain it away to brass.
“The charges you're facing so far are murder, battery, and grand larceny to name a few,” you state ignoring him, flicking through the photos, throwing each one in front of him. “There are many more to follow.”
“I didn’t know partners could testify against each other,” he mused, smirk still strong on his face.
“I’m not your partner,” you object. “I was undercover.”
“No,” he contends, shaking his head like this was just a game to him. “You can’t fake a love like ours, heaven.”
You almost snort as if his point was ridiculous.
“I don’t think I could ever love someone like you Mr Kim,” your stare was ice cold, that finally wipes the smile off his face. 
“You’re angry,” he states as if it was new information for you. “I get that little love, but this is a bit too much, don’t you think?”
“I think justice needs to be served, don't you?” you sneered. “People got hurt, some people died, someone needs to pay.”
“You and I both know they deserved it,” he declares as if there wasn’t a camera recording his confession. “You’re just angry because I stepped on a bug.”
Utter rage brewed like a storm in your chest, and you wanted the downpour to drown him. 
“You sound like you’re ready to sign the confession Mr Kim,” you don’t break your stare. “That’s great, saves us a lot of time, thank you.”
You close the file, pushing the chair back to stand. 
“I’m not done with you,” he growled.
“But I’m done with you.” 
“Y/n sit,” he commands calmly, composing himself. “Throwing a fit isn’t going to fix things.”
“Throwing a fit?” The audacity of this man, you stand there in shock. 
“Let’s talk it through,” he says to you as if you were being hysterical. 
“Fuck you,” you spit. 
“Talk to me Y/n,” he scolded you like you were a child. “Without this bullshit.”
“Fine! You wanna talk about it Namjoon,” you snapped, taking the seat again, throwing the file haphazardly on the desk. “Let’s talk about it.”
The glare you present him with doesn’t make him flinch, it doesn’t phase him. You hope Suho had enough sense to turn the cameras off by now, this would go nowhere. 
“You manipulated me, you lied to me, you made me play the fool.”
He didn’t react, not a single muscle on his face moved and it fanned whatever flame explode inside of you like a bomb. This was his true colours underneath the mask of love and adoration he created for you.
“You don’t have to pretend anymore Namjoon I can see right through you,” you state. “And you are never touching me again.”
That made him look at you, really look at you, something shifted in his gaze, a slight smirk as if he was mocking you.
You could cry kick and scream about the injustice he put you through in the name of this fucked up love and he wouldn’t flinch. He would sit there and watch and then the fucker would have the audacity to laugh afterwards. He must’ve laughed at how stupid you were in trusting him when he lied.
“At least if you go to prison, I’ll finally be free,” you whisper like it’s a life line.
He’s still unmoved, sitting there as if you were invisible and it irked the fuck out of you. He was the one who wanted to talk, why the fuck was he silent now? 
You wanted him to hurt you wanted him to feel an ounce of what you did in the light of his betrayal. He tore your heart out and you weren’t going to forgive him.
“I must’ve looked so pathetic,” you say in a self deprecating tone, looking at the ceiling as if someone could answer you. “Suho was right.”
That comment makes his blood boil hard enough to show on his face. There it was, the reaction you were waiting for and you took the bait without thinking about what you were trying to catch or what you were trapped with.
“I should’ve trusted him, he’s always had my back and my best interest at heart.”
His jaw clenches, a fist squeezing nothing but air although he probably wished it was the captain's neck.
“Kai and Suho are all I have left,” you goad him, unsure of what exactly it was that you wanted to prove. “And finally I’m back where I belong.”
“If you don’t want a bullet in each of their heads, you need to stop talking love,” he grunts through gritted teeth.
Something inside of you felt vindicated and you realise then what you wanted from him, proof he fucking cared, that you weren’t some pawn or prize in this game of crime. You wanted him to soothe the very cuts he caused, or rip your heart out hard enough that you could bleed him out of your system forever.
“Oh please Namjoon, just admit why you kept me around for so long,” you scoff. “I can only imagine how it felt to have the lead detective on your case in the palm of your hands, like a trophy, a big fuck you to the justice system.”
You laugh sounding a little maniacal.
“You had me, and I fell for all of it.”
“You’re forgetting I didn’t know your true origins at first little love,” his low voice is a warning, he looks at you like he needed to remind you who you belonged to.
“And you’re forgetting I know you,” you bite back. “Any hint of betrayal and you pull the trigger first and ask questions later.”
He stares at you, grimacing.
“And yet here I am, alive.”
“Because I love you,” he says it so casually it throws you off, like it was a fundamental part of his being, like breathing.
“Because you saw an opportunity,” you rationalise.
“Because I could never lose you,” he confesses. “You could rip out my heart, little love and I would still want you, why else would I be here?”
You frown, what did he mean? He was here because you paid an eye for an eye, you betrayed him.
“What’s done is done,” you say as if you were unconcerned. “I will testify against you.”
He leans closer across the table, words for your ears only.
“Do you think you’ll be able to handle seeing Jungkook in prison, love?” Namjoon whispers. “Knowing you put him there? It would kill you.”
The pain his words brought forth only proved them to be true. You did have a soft spot for the youngest, always had. You break eye contact first, looking down at the file and turning back and forth a page as if in contemplation but really to cool your nerves.
Were you really doing this? Sending Yoongi, Jin, Hoseok, Jimin, Tae and Kookie to jail because of an angry outburst? Now your emotions had time to settle after the bomb that exploded when you saw Suho; you weren’t so sure.
“I never thought you could betray us like this,” he says solemnly, continuing to manipulate your guilt, but he forgot about your fire. He could almost see the coals ignite in your eyes, a misstep on his part, one he realised when a snarl forms on your lips.
“You. Lied.” You state ferociously. “I asked you if you hurt him and you lied to me.”
“So you decided to have us all arrested,” he continues, “for a man you stated you didn’t care about like that.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” you seethe, unable to sit with him any longer, pacing the room before you raised a finger to his face. “You played me like a fool Namjoon, and I refuse to play the part anymore.”
“I wanted him dead, little love,” he states in a low voice through gritted teeth. “Do you understand what a mercy-”
“I asked you not to hurt him!”
“Then you underestimated our wrath!” he retorted. “I couldn’t let him go in one piece, and you didn’t need to know.”
“No. You underestimated MY wrath Kim Namjoon!” You burst, slamming the desk with your hand, the sting burning, your face heating more and more with rage as it concealed your heartache. “I am not some docile doll for you to play with, and manipulate and LIE TO! You took my love for granted when it was a damn fucking privilege.”
Your chest heaves with each breath, he stayed composed while you looked like a wild animal finally let out of her cage.
“You think this obsession is love,” your voice broke at the last word, the floods of heartbreak dampening the fires. “And I did too, but it’s fucked up everything.”
His silence was eating you alive, his face giving nothing of his heart away while yours laid bare out between you.
“You know what I’m done,” you breathe, “have fun rotting in jail Namjoon.”
Tears drop out of the corner of your eyes as you walk away, his piercing gaze doing nothing to deter you. He might’ve had power over you once but that was before he betrayed you. You reach for the door handle, tugging, ready to leave him behind until his trial, but the door doesn’t budge. You still, mind blank for a second before panic overwhelms you. You try again with all your might, pulling as hard as you can over and over before releasing your grip with a harsh breath. You take a gulp, calming yourself, he planned this.
You’re not surprised when you hear the sound of the handcuffs undo or the chains hit the floor. Fucking bastard. An alarm started blaring in the building, loud and overwhelming, but it came too late. Red lights flash, the room glowing as if warning you about the oncoming danger.
“Are we done with your outburst little love,” he says coldly, like your grievances were nothing more than a tantrum.
You turn to face him slowly, more tears dropping without a sound, shaking your head at the way his words cut you down to nothing.
When he stands from the seat your heart gallops with fear and panic. Although it’s helpless you turn back to the door, trying with all your might to open it and escape him. The fire alarm blaring does nothing to ease you, you hang onto the door as you feel him approach, tears falling out of your eyes without control.
Fuck, you were stuck here with the man you sent to jail, you were left to his mercy. His presence looms over you, you can feel him a hair's width behind you, not touching you, not really, but he’s so close it’s overwhelming.
It’s when you feel his breath you freeze, your body shutting down with dread. He presses his cheek to your hair, inhaling you softly. The action makes you jolt away, turning to the side but he grabs your wrist tightly. You don’t look at him, you stare into the two way mirror, your cheeks pathetically wet. You were supposed to hold the power in this room, but you could feel it dwindle away to nothing but smoke.
You’re slammed against the door hard, a whimper escaping your lips as your eyes scrunched in pain. You miss the flash of guilt in his eyes, realising he pushed you too hard. An apology on his lips but the glare when your eyes open stops him. He’s seen anger in your eyes before, hate even, for he knew love didn’t come without it. But fear? Never of him, not even in the days when you were undercover and your life was one unveiled secret away from ending. 
“Get away from me,” you seethe, meaning every word, even when you saw the hurt in his eyes. 
Regret, Kim Namjoon never knew the feeling before, but he knew he never wanted you to look at him the way you were. He needed to keep his calm, one wrong push and you would tear him out of your own heart.
Your eyes fly all over the room, trying to piece together a way to gain some distance. Suho… maybe he was still behind the glass. You tug your wrist as hard as you can, taking steps away from him but his hold is relentless. The blare of the alarm stops ringing but the flashing red lights remain, staining the walls like blood pumping.
“Little lo-“ he starts to say with a sigh, he was being patient but there was only so much time left.
“Suho?” You call desperately trying to look through the glass. You know you’ve made a mistake before you even said his name but fear drives people to do stupid things without thinking.
The most notorious criminal in all of Seoul pulls you back against his chest hard. An arm wraps around your waist, the unforgiving grip on your wrist turning lethal. He rests his chin on your shoulder, staring at you through the mirror. The hairs on your skin stood on end at the frightening change in his eyes, danger rolled off of him and you had no choice but to take every wave.
“Do you think he’s there, love?” The corner of his lip lifts in a smirk that makes you think of a snake, the saccharine tone of his voice hypnotising. “Do you think he’s watching us?”
The palm on your hip moves down to your thigh, he squeezes the flesh. You could feel your heart jumping in your throat.
“Should we give him something to watch?” He murmurs seductively, turning his head to bring his lips so close to your neck. The bruising clutch on your wrist is gone only to find its way to your hair, yanking it back to give himself better access.
Your eyes in the mirror are begging but the inner turmoil from his touch is making you question what exactly you’re asking for. Reason tells you it’s for Suho to save you, to grant you escape, but the way you feel a familiar heat swim to your core has you doubting yourself.
“If he was in there,” he whispers, his lips now on your ear, “don’t you think he’d come in here and try to take you from me, love?”
He chuckles to himself, a joke only he can understand.
“Fuck I’d love to see him try.”
His groan has you aching, your body relapsing to what it knows, anticipating the pleasure and pain only they could provide. 
​​“I’m not mad at you for having us arrested, heaven,” he whispers in your ear, gaze softening for a second in the mirror lulling you into a sense of security you couldn’t tell if it was a trap. “In fact I’m a little in awe, a little proud.”
The smirk he gives you seems genuine.
“We deserved it I know,” reassurance fills his voice, he wants you to hear his sincerity. “What I’m mad about, little love…”
The softness is gone, eyes turn piercing, the proverbial snake about to strike.
“Is the fact you let another man touch what’s mine.”
The guttural rumble of his possessive claim sent waves of need down to your cunt, you could feel it pulsing. 
“I’m mine,” you return meekly, trying to find your resolve, but it sounded like a whine.
“Make no mistake Y/n, you’re always going to be mine.”
You didn’t have it in you to argue, not when he sent your eyes rolling back and a shiver down your spine. Fuck he hadn’t even touched you yet, maybe it was true, maybe a part of you would always belong to them, but that didn’t mean all if you did.
“Look at me,” he commands, his breath hitting your neck.
Your blown out eyes meet him in the mirror, that predatory but protective gaze piercing through you. He hums in approval the deep vibration fucking with your senses, making you hazy. 
You both hold eye contact even when you can see the fingers on your thigh stroke soothing circles up your skin. Your lips part with a harsh breath when they rub your mound through the fabric of your panties, the touch light and testing and not nearly enough. 
“You’re fucking soaking wet baby,” he calls you out with a grin.
You grab his wrist when his fingers cup your heat, his thumb soothing circles on your clit. You press against him, the warmth of his chest enveloping your back. You both fit so well together, you were forgetting why exactly you were so angry at him, but simmers of it still remained even through his touch. 
“You know,” he says, opening your leg with his knee to give him more access, “a lot of couples fuck through their problems, should we try?”
He hides his grin, burying his head in you but you can feel it against your skin, the arrogant asshole. 
“You can go and fuck yourself,” you sassed back, lying to yourself that you could be fine if he stopped now, that it wouldn’t leave you a needy mess. 
“But I’d rather fuck you,” he chuckles, breathing you in, savouring the moment while his fingers slide the fabric aside. 
You choke back a moan at the contact of his skin right where you wanted him, the way he spread your wetness until every inch of you was covered in it. 
“You can pretend to regret our relationship all you want, but this,” he emphasises his point by slapping your cunt hard, making you gasp, “still wants me.”
“It wants to get fucked,” you spitefully remark through gritted teeth, “doesn’t have to be you.”
That makes him pause, and you have to bite back the words of displeasure. 
“You’ll pay for that next time love,” he murmurs dangerously. 
“There won’t be a next time,” you try to ridicule him through a laugh but his fingers circle your entrance. 
“You’re lying,” he hums, “next time, I think we should tie you down, make you watch other women touch us in ways only you’re allowed to.”
You bury the fury that ruptures at the image, clenching your jaw to keep from swearing at him and proving the point he was trying to make.
“Maybe then you’d have a semblance of understanding of what you did- the torture you put us through.”
“I wouldn’t care,” you breathe, squirming against his fingers, he needed to shut up and move.
“Liar,” he chuckles knowingly, seeing right through you. Before you, there were many females in his organisation, until his little love demanded he get rid of them all. The memory stretches his grin wider. 
“Why the fuck was it me?” You whisper, your eyes starting to water at the vulnerability of your tone, remembering the same moment he was. “When I went undercover there were so many beautiful women-“
“They’re not you, little love, don’t for a second compare yourself to them,” he kisses your temple softly in reassurance. His face is in your hair, his hand on your throat as you preen to his touch. “You were sweet and addicting with a fire you were trying so desperately to contain.”
He thrusts two fingers in gently, watching your face contort in want in the mirror, smiling at the way your eyes rolled back. You whimper when he squeezes his grip on your neck.
“To think that passion we saw in your eyes was hatred at first,” he smiles as if amused, watching every little reaction you gave him, every proof of love.
“I did,” you confess, pressing your ass against his hard length and making him groan, “I hated you.”
“You were sent to destroy us, love, but instead you reached into our souls and thought there was something worth saving,” he chuckled, nuzzling into you softly as if he wasn’t knuckle deep inside of you, feeling every part he knew so well. “And save us you did, it was so dark before you our little light, how could we ever let you leave?”
“You’re fucking with my head,” you whimper, head falling back to his chest, it rumbles when he laughs.
“Hmmm? I’m definitely fucking your brains out today Y/n,” he promises with a chuckle, kissing your temple again, but emphasising his point when he scissors his fingers reading you for his cock. “If that’s what you mean.”
This was your fault, you knew what you were getting into when you fell for them. You especially knew Namjoon was the worst of them all. You let his soft side brush away his true nature, and while you never forgot his ruthless persona, you put it to the back of your mind. You foolishly thought you had tamed his cunning cold cruel- 
“Oh fuck,” whatever train of thought you had died, the palm of his hand rubbing your clit, stimulating your already aching cunt to the edge. Your parted lips open wider to release a silent scream, his fingers stroking so deep.
You were so close, you could taste it, unable to control the delirious sounds escaping you. So when he stops and slips his fingers away from you, you have to stop yourself screaming in protest. 
“Up against the mirror Y/n,” he commands gruffly, but you don’t move, you were so fucking close. Fuck him, fucking asshole, you were so fucking close. 
He picks you up with ease, pushing you against the wall so your breath fogs the surface. You hear the zip pull down, your forehead falls forward, your core pulsing in anticipation. He grabs your leg, opening you for him, the head of his cock sliding across your folds until you're whining.
“Stop squirming love,” he warns, but you don’t listen, of course you don’t, so he makes you listen. 
The sound you release when he slaps your clit with his hard dick over and over has him questioning his restraint, fuck he wants to just pound into you but you needed to be taught a fucking lesson. 
“Joonie sensitive,” you whine, but he’s relentless, making you cry out over and over. Fuck you could actually maybe cum like this. 
His self control wavers, his jaw clenched with such a force he thinks it’ll shatter. He couldn’t take it anymore, the swell of his head finds your entrance. Inch by inch, he relishes the feeling of your walls hugging him so fucking tight, the pulse of them pulling him in. He leans over you, trying to regain composure but you feel so good he doesn’t want to move, he wants to stay like this forever, inside of you where he belongs. 
You try to push back into him, but he grabs your waist with one hand to keep you still, grinding his hips against you and he knows it’s not enough. 
“Look at you arching your back little love,” he smirks, “Your body knows where you belong, it’s a shame you tried to take it away from me.”
Your hands ball into fists on the mirror, you can’t even look at yourself right now, you can’t stop writhing on the surface, trying so hard to get him to move. You squeeze him hard, making his head fall against you with a grunt. 
“Behave little love,” he warns, “or I’ll show your colleagues just how well you can take me.”
“Make me,” you dare him even though it comes out as a mumble. 
You were dizzy and disorientated and all you wanted was for him to fucking move. He pushes you against the wall hard, every inch of him covering you so you couldn’t budge. You whine, the cold of the hard surface making you seek his warm body, you slot against him like a damn puzzle piece. He was hell bent on torturing you today, as if you hadn’t suffered enough. 
“Joonie move,” you almost sound like a brat, trying to order him around. 
“I’ll move when I’m ready,” he growls animalistically, barely holding himself back, but he needed to savour this.
You do everything you can to break his control, writhing against him like a bitch in heat. He swallows hard when you clench again. He spanks your ass hard in return, the air gets thicker, you find it harder to breathe. You keep still, the sting of your ass satisfying your craving for a moment, but not for long. 
He picks up your skirt, watching himself inside you, watching the beautiful mess you were making. So wet, so perfect, how did you ever think for a second he would ever let this go? The sight is too much, he releases a restrained groan, done with holding himself back. 
His hand grips your cheeks, turning your mouth to his, forcing his tongue down your throat as he finally pulls out only to push back in impossibly deeper. You took every punishing thrust, his presence surrounding you everywhere, even in front of you where his reflection painted the surface. He smothered you with his existence, the heat of him scolding, but you liked it, you craved it. 
“Do you think your ‘friend’ understands who you fucking belong to now detective L/n?” He chuckles deeply watching your fucked out face in the mirror.
He uses his grip under your knee to turn you towards the camera in the corner of the room.
“Think they can all see little love?” He pants. “How well you fucking take it? How good you are for me?”
You shake your head in protest but it feels too good. Your head falls back on him without the mirror to lean against. His fingers find your clit, his sole purpose to make you lose yourself to him. 
“Fuck look at you shaking baby,” he groans, feeling you pulse around him, drawing closer to the edge. “Your poor pussy just needs to come huh?”
You can hear the smirk in his tone, fucking self satisfied prick. 
“Not as badly as you need it,” you taunt back, feeling your defiance flare despite how your body was begging you to behave.. 
“Fuck you might be right,” he groans, going harder, faster. “I’m always going to need it.”
His confession takes you over, the words pushing you so hard you come apart violently, thrashing against him as you unravel, but he holds you tight. He doesn’t let you fall. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think, all you could feel was him and the burst of pleasure that carried on wave after wave, and you never wanted it to stop.
“This is mine,” he grunts as he comes undone inside of you, fucking his cum deeper until it got through to your soul. 
He was a part of you, and you could try to deny it now with his mistakes on the table, but he was so embedded in the fabric of you he couldn’t see where he began and where you ended. His entire existence was for you, it was only fair your cunt, body and soul belonged to him. Maybe the others too, as an afterthought, but you were his first.
He feels the mess slide out of you as he leaves your warmth, turning you softly so you could lean against him as you catch your breath. He holds you tight, arn arm around your middle like the steel of a bar. He has every intention of letting you recover but the way you look up at him with those glossy eyes confirms the fact he will never be satiated, he will always want more of you even if there was nothing left to give. 
“Our little love,” he breathes in your face, stealing a hard kiss, “our little downfall.”
His mouth held you prisoner again and again, humming pleasantly as you let him devour you in so many ways. His kiss was bruising, hungry, overindulging.
Your eyes search his as he parts reluctantly, your mind still hazy, the bliss of sex still circulating your body.
“Why did you lie to me?” You whisper breathlessly against his lips as you come down, and he can hear the vulnerability in your tone, it makes a guilt spread across his chest that feels almost alien. The way you could make him ache like no one else, he should cast you aside for introducing a weakness in him but he wouldn’t even dream of it.
“I didn’t want to lose you,” he confesses sincerely. “I didn’t want you to hate me.”
“I asked you not to hurt him,” your eyes tear up again, and he curses himself and the existence of Kim Suho.
“I know.”
“But you did it anyway,” you continue, “and then you had the gall to lie to my face.”
You wipe away the tears that fall harshly, your mind clearing. You push him away and fix yourself up, knowing from the glances in the mirror you were a mess.
“You always own up to your actions, right or wrong, you never hide them,” you laugh and you think you must sound psychotic. “The Kim Namjoon… I remember the days you would drop dead bodies in front of me without remorse, without ever feeling the need to explain yourself.”
“I was testing you then,” he grunts, remembering those days well. “I needed to know you had the stomach to be with us.”
“I hated you so much,” you confess, swallowing down a sob. “And for the first time since I fell in love with you Joonie, I can feel that hate grow again.”
His jaw clenches, his fist too. He could feel a threat on the tip of his lips, one where the Captain's head would end up on a plate in front of you for dinner but he holds himself back.
“You don’t mean that,” he says between gritted teeth.
“I had you fucking arrested Namjoon,” you argue back fiercely. “Don't tell me what I mean or don’t mean.”
“You also fucked me after the fact,” he states and the harsh words slap you hard. You did. You let him defile you here only moments ago.
“Old habits die hard.”
“Not with me love,” he dismisses the thought. “Not as long as I’m alive.”
“We’ll see,” you challenge, feeling that earlier conviction rise. 
“Understand something Y/n,” he says seriously, his face solemn and hard in a way you had witnessed rarely. This was Kim Namjoon with something to lose. “You can run, you can fight, you can hate me if you need to, but there isn’t a life worth living for us without you in it.”
He takes his seat back in the interrogation chair, putting his handcuffs back on with ease, all while keeping his eye contact with you. 
“You want me here, you want to punish me,” he continues, “fine, this where I’ll stay until you’re appeased, until you forgive me.”
“I won’t,” you deny, shaking your head. 
“You will.”
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Blueeeee just read chapter 8 and…OOHHHHH MYYYYYYY GGGOOOOODDDD. AAAAHAHHHHHHHHH it was better than I even expected 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥲🥲
🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽
The relief I feel 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨
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My face when I saw Little Love’s new part up on my dash!!!! I can not WAIT to read it later tonight ahhhhhhhhhh
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I can’t wait to hear what you think 😉😉😉
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Baby blue the new update was DELICIOUS
SO HUNGRY FOR MORE RAWR RAWRR
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IM GLAD YOU WERE FED MY LITTLE LION ANON 🤣
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Our Little Love part eight - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au
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Mr Kim has a chapter all to himself of 6.8K words, please enjoy and PLEASE let me know what you think. Trigger warnings: manipulation, coercion, corruption, interrogation, mentions of murder and other crimes, swearing, jealousy, possessive yandere behaviour, fingering, orgasm denial, mirror sex, light choking. I am awful with warnings, please forgive me.
Namjoon wasn’t all that impressed with seeing the Chief of police visiting his cell, the syndicate boss was dressed too well to belong there, it was almost an eyesore. A glance to the camera, the normal red blinking light absent tells him all he needs to know. There were no eyes or ears to this conversation. 
“I thought I paid you to keep your men in line,” Namjoon says in lieu of greeting. “Was a bullet to the knee not warning enough for your dear Captain?”
“He wasn’t an issue when I spoke to him, the man was on leave!” the chief replied. “Your girl was the problem he-”
“Be very careful how you finish that sentence,” he advised with a deep angry rumble from his chest. “I am well aware who is at fault here, and regardless of what our little love does, she is never to blame.”
Chief Lee Soo-man only nods once, biting back his complaints.
“I asked you to sort out Kim Suho, I told you to keep him in check,” Namjoon growls. “Keeping your pockets full isn’t an act of charity Lee, it’s a purchase. I own you.”
“Yes sir,” he mumbles in response. “I assure you this arrest is just a formality, the case won’t stand once it’s revealed Detective L/n-”
The glare the man in the blazerless three piece suit gave him was enough to stop him in his tracks. Right, he couldn’t involve you in this, that was going to make things harder than they needed to be.
“What do you recommend then sir?” he asks when he finds his voice and wavering courage. 
Namjoon sighs harshly, and the Chief swears he can almost see smoke. 
“I want to be alone with my little love,” it’s not a request, the chief didn’t let the soft lilt of his fool him. 
“I don’t know how that would be poss-”
“I want-” Namjoon cuts in, unable to bear another second of this blithering idiot, “her to be the one to interrogate me. And I can trust you understand the rest.”
“Y-yessssir,” he stutters, not completely hearing the words between the lines, and that was clear enough on his face. 
“I want her alone, Sooman,” Namjoon repeats himself, if this were one of his men he would never have needed to. “I don’t want a single soul witness to what I’m going to do to her.”
Suho tugs you along by the arm, stumbling in his urgent pace, pulling you out of ear shot.
“We have a problem.”
“What problem?”
“I’m technically on health leave, brass says I can’t interrogate him,” he stares a hole into you as if his eyes were telling you the rest but you couldn’t understand.
“Okay so who’s replacing you?”
He huffs out a breath of air from his nose, knowing you weren’t going to like the command from way over his head.
Your heart beats hard in anticipation, why was he looking at you like that?
“As far as Brass are aware you were deep undercover,” Suho informs you slowly, deliberately, looking like he was about to tear your world to trash. He sighs, unable to get the words out.
“Suho what?”
“They want you to interrogate him,” he breathes, you think you’ve misheard him, but you know you haven’t.
Your world spins, you’re already shaking your head.
“I can’t,” you whisper, he knows full well that you can’t. “I resigned, I’m not a detective anymore.”
He sighs again, hesitation in his eyes. 
“I never processed it,” he confesses.
“Y-you di-”
“I couldn’t, I knew you would see reason, I knew you would come back,” he doesn’t let you process the shock, explaining himself quickly. 
“Suho I can’t I can’t,” you beg, the conviction you had to punish them now suddenly taking a back seat as fear overtakes you, “right now they believe I was deep undercover but he’s not going to let that-“
“Listen to me,” he interrupts you before you can fully submerge into a panic attack, taking your hand in his. “I’m going to be in the next room, as soon as he says anything that compromises you, I’ll turn off the cameras, okay?”
“But-“
You’re interrupted again when the door opens, both of you whipping your heads to see him being transferred by four officers to the interrogation room. His eyes find you, staring stoic holes into you before his gaze finds Suho’s hands comforting yours. The snarl of displeasure is brief but you definitely see it, and you can’t breathe.
Suho draws your attention back to him, tugging your hand softly.
“Do you trust me Y/n?” he implores you, eyes searching yours in a way that made Namjoon want to strangle him with the chains on his handcuffs. You look up at your Captain with such light in your eyes, a way you should never look at another man, and then you have the audacity to nod. 
You’ve done this a hundred times, if not more. So why were you hesitating at the door? Your hand on the handle, all you had to do was turn it and face the music but you couldn’t even manage finding your breath. 
Interrogation was a science, it was like riding a bike, you knew what you had to do, you had to command the room. It almost sounded like a joke, the worst one you’d ever heard. Command a room when Kim Namjoon was in it? 
The thought makes you hyperventilate. No, it wasn’t going to be easy but you could control what you could. You borrowed clothes from an old colleague, a skirt and blouse, simple but professional. Suho’s old blazer too, as if layers would protect you. You had splashed water on your face in the bathroom, using makeup from evidence to make yourself look presentable, composed. Your impromptu freshening up had meant you left the syndicate leader waiting for a long time, and it absolutely 100% was not because you were trying to kill time, it was to make him stew in the room, a technique you had used multiple times prev- who were you trying to convince? 
You needed to get this over with. 
Your face is impassive when you finally open the door, his gaze is on you immediately and you can feel a certain type of guilt and shame try to seep its way into you, but you push it down far enough that you can pretend it’s not there.
“Mr Kim Namjoon,” you greet him stoically.
“Detective L/n,” he returns, playing along with a small smile, as if seeing an old acquaintance after a long time. The way he addressed you shouldn’t cut you, logically it made no sense not when you’re the one that got him in the box, but it did. 
You approach the table he’s chained to, looking at the wood instead of his eyes as if he didn’t matter, or at least that’s how you wanted it perceived. Avoiding eye contact with the most dangerous man the whole country had ever come to know, meant you missed the way his stare moved to your clothes, particularly your blazer, recognising it was a man’s, and he could confidently guess exactly who it belonged to. Any friendliness on his face disappeared, he wanted to play games and now he just wanted to torture you a little, punish you for you actions. Patience, he tells himself, that would come later.
The file in your hands slaps the table as you throw it down, taking a seat opposite your boyfriend, a man you now convinced yourself you wanted behind bars. 
What do they say about a woman scorned? Namjoon thinks to himself, admiring the fire he could see burning underneath your skin, and though he knew he would feel the burn, he would welcome it. It was no secret that he had a fantasy about you interrogating him, he introduced the role play to the bedroom soon after your return to them but it lacked the flames of heat he could feel today. 
“Allow me to formally introduce myself,” you reply. “My name is detective Y/n L/n, I’ve been undercover at your… establishment for the past year and a half.”
“Is that right?” he barely suppressed his amusement but it didn’t phase you. Your professional head was on, this was just another criminal you had to put away, that was it. 
You open the file, sliding out photos of him that you had sent in as intel in your early days undercover as well as surveillance photos that Suho had taken since you were MIA. 
“Do you know who this man is Mr Kim,” you say, sliding the first of the photos to him.
“Can’t say I do detective,” he shrugs nonchalantly, not even glancing away from you. 
“Do you want to try looking at his face first before you answer,” you insisted unimpressed. 
He smiles, still staring at you. 
“I don’t recognise him,” he repeats himself slowly. 
“So this isn’t you in the photo?” You ask.
“I don’t know,” his grin only grows.
“This man, Jackson Wang, is dead, and the last person who saw him alive seems to have been you Mr Kim, at least based on the time stamp on this photo and the time of death from the post mortem.”
“Is that right,” he says again, sounding like a broken record. His eyes swim with admiration for you, you can see it though you can’t understand it at all with the current scene. Why wasn’t he fuming, why wasn’t he demanding an answer or explanation?
“Okay let's cut the crap since I know you’re far too clever for that Mr Kim,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes. “I have gathered evidence of your crimes from the last 18 months, and I will stand in court as a witness against you.”
“Are you allowed to do that little love?” he asks, the name has a pang of panic hit you, but you tell yourself you can explain it away to brass.
“The charges you're facing so far are murder, battery, and grand larceny to name a few,” you state ignoring him, flicking through the photos, throwing each one in front of him. “There are many more to follow.”
“I didn’t know partners could testify against each other,” he mused, smirk still strong on his face.
“I’m not your partner,” you object. “I was undercover.”
“No,” he contends, shaking his head like this was just a game to him. “You can’t fake a love like ours, heaven.”
You almost snort as if his point was ridiculous.
“I don’t think I could ever love someone like you Mr Kim,” your stare was ice cold, that finally wipes the smile off his face. 
“You’re angry,” he states as if it was new information for you. “I get that little love, but this is a bit too much, don’t you think?”
“I think justice needs to be served, don't you?” you sneered. “People got hurt, some people died, someone needs to pay.”
“You and I both know they deserved it,” he declares as if there wasn’t a camera recording his confession. “You’re just angry because I stepped on a bug.”
Utter rage brewed like a storm in your chest, and you wanted the downpour to drown him. 
“You sound like you’re ready to sign the confession Mr Kim,” you don’t break your stare. “That’s great, saves us a lot of time, thank you.”
You close the file, pushing the chair back to stand. 
“I’m not done with you,” he growled.
“But I’m done with you.” 
“Y/n sit,” he commands calmly, composing himself. “Throwing a fit isn’t going to fix things.”
“Throwing a fit?” The audacity of this man, you stand there in shock. 
“Let’s talk it through,” he says to you as if you were being hysterical. 
“Fuck you,” you spit. 
“Talk to me Y/n,” he scolded you like you were a child. “Without this bullshit.”
“Fine! You wanna talk about it Namjoon,” you snapped, taking the seat again, throwing the file haphazardly on the desk. “Let’s talk about it.”
The glare you present him with doesn’t make him flinch, it doesn’t phase him. You hope Suho had enough sense to turn the cameras off by now, this would go nowhere. 
“You manipulated me, you lied to me, you made me play the fool.”
He didn’t react, not a single muscle on his face moved and it fanned whatever flame explode inside of you like a bomb. This was his true colours underneath the mask of love and adoration he created for you.
“You don’t have to pretend anymore Namjoon I can see right through you,” you state. “And you are never touching me again.”
That made him look at you, really look at you, something shifted in his gaze, a slight smirk as if he was mocking you.
You could cry kick and scream about the injustice he put you through in the name of this fucked up love and he wouldn’t flinch. He would sit there and watch and then the fucker would have the audacity to laugh afterwards. He must’ve laughed at how stupid you were in trusting him when he lied.
“At least if you go to prison, I’ll finally be free,” you whisper like it’s a life line.
He’s still unmoved, sitting there as if you were invisible and it irked the fuck out of you. He was the one who wanted to talk, why the fuck was he silent now? 
You wanted him to hurt you wanted him to feel an ounce of what you did in the light of his betrayal. He tore your heart out and you weren’t going to forgive him.
“I must’ve looked so pathetic,” you say in a self deprecating tone, looking at the ceiling as if someone could answer you. “Suho was right.”
That comment makes his blood boil hard enough to show on his face. There it was, the reaction you were waiting for and you took the bait without thinking about what you were trying to catch or what you were trapped with.
“I should’ve trusted him, he’s always had my back and my best interest at heart.”
His jaw clenches, a fist squeezing nothing but air although he probably wished it was the captain's neck.
“Kai and Suho are all I have left,” you goad him, unsure of what exactly it was that you wanted to prove. “And finally I’m back where I belong.”
“If you don’t want a bullet in each of their heads, you need to stop talking love,” he grunts through gritted teeth.
Something inside of you felt vindicated and you realise then what you wanted from him, proof he fucking cared, that you weren’t some pawn or prize in this game of crime. You wanted him to soothe the very cuts he caused, or rip your heart out hard enough that you could bleed him out of your system forever.
“Oh please Namjoon, just admit why you kept me around for so long,” you scoff. “I can only imagine how it felt to have the lead detective on your case in the palm of your hands, like a trophy, a big fuck you to the justice system.”
You laugh sounding a little maniacal.
“You had me, and I fell for all of it.”
“You’re forgetting I didn’t know your true origins at first little love,” his low voice is a warning, he looks at you like he needed to remind you who you belonged to.
“And you’re forgetting I know you,” you bite back. “Any hint of betrayal and you pull the trigger first and ask questions later.”
He stares at you, grimacing.
“And yet here I am, alive.”
“Because I love you,” he says it so casually it throws you off, like it was a fundamental part of his being, like breathing.
“Because you saw an opportunity,” you rationalise.
“Because I could never lose you,” he confesses. “You could rip out my heart, little love and I would still want you, why else would I be here?”
You frown, what did he mean? He was here because you paid an eye for an eye, you betrayed him.
“What’s done is done,” you say as if you were unconcerned. “I will testify against you.”
He leans closer across the table, words for your ears only.
“Do you think you’ll be able to handle seeing Jungkook in prison, love?” Namjoon whispers. “Knowing you put him there? It would kill you.”
The pain his words brought forth only proved them to be true. You did have a soft spot for the youngest, always had. You break eye contact first, looking down at the file and turning back and forth a page as if in contemplation but really to cool your nerves.
Were you really doing this? Sending Yoongi, Jin, Hoseok, Jimin, Tae and Kookie to jail because of an angry outburst? Now your emotions had time to settle after the bomb that exploded when you saw Suho; you weren’t so sure.
“I never thought you could betray us like this,” he says solemnly, continuing to manipulate your guilt, but he forgot about your fire. He could almost see the coals ignite in your eyes, a misstep on his part, one he realised when a snarl forms on your lips.
“You. Lied.” You state ferociously. “I asked you if you hurt him and you lied to me.”
“So you decided to have us all arrested,” he continues, “for a man you stated you didn’t care about like that.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” you seethe, unable to sit with him any longer, pacing the room before you raised a finger to his face. “You played me like a fool Namjoon, and I refuse to play the part anymore.”
“I wanted him dead, little love,” he states in a low voice through gritted teeth. “Do you understand what a mercy-”
“I asked you not to hurt him!”
“Then you underestimated our wrath!” he retorted. “I couldn’t let him go in one piece, and you didn’t need to know.”
“No. You underestimated MY wrath Kim Namjoon!” You burst, slamming the desk with your hand, the sting burning, your face heating more and more with rage as it concealed your heartache. “I am not some docile doll for you to play with, and manipulate and LIE TO! You took my love for granted when it was a damn fucking privilege.”
Your chest heaves with each breath, he stayed composed while you looked like a wild animal finally let out of her cage.
“You think this obsession is love,” your voice broke at the last word, the floods of heartbreak dampening the fires. “And I did too, but it’s fucked up everything.”
His silence was eating you alive, his face giving nothing of his heart away while yours laid bare out between you.
“You know what I’m done,” you breathe, “have fun rotting in jail Namjoon.”
Tears drop out of the corner of your eyes as you walk away, his piercing gaze doing nothing to deter you. He might’ve had power over you once but that was before he betrayed you. You reach for the door handle, tugging, ready to leave him behind until his trial, but the door doesn’t budge. You still, mind blank for a second before panic overwhelms you. You try again with all your might, pulling as hard as you can over and over before releasing your grip with a harsh breath. You take a gulp, calming yourself, he planned this.
You’re not surprised when you hear the sound of the handcuffs undo or the chains hit the floor. Fucking bastard. An alarm started blaring in the building, loud and overwhelming, but it came too late. Red lights flash, the room glowing as if warning you about the oncoming danger.
“Are we done with your outburst little love,” he says coldly, like your grievances were nothing more than a tantrum.
You turn to face him slowly, more tears dropping without a sound, shaking your head at the way his words cut you down to nothing.
When he stands from the seat your heart gallops with fear and panic. Although it’s helpless you turn back to the door, trying with all your might to open it and escape him. The fire alarm blaring does nothing to ease you, you hang onto the door as you feel him approach, tears falling out of your eyes without control.
Fuck, you were stuck here with the man you sent to jail, you were left to his mercy. His presence looms over you, you can feel him a hair's width behind you, not touching you, not really, but he’s so close it’s overwhelming.
It’s when you feel his breath you freeze, your body shutting down with dread. He presses his cheek to your hair, inhaling you softly. The action makes you jolt away, turning to the side but he grabs your wrist tightly. You don’t look at him, you stare into the two way mirror, your cheeks pathetically wet. You were supposed to hold the power in this room, but you could feel it dwindle away to nothing but smoke.
You’re slammed against the door hard, a whimper escaping your lips as your eyes scrunched in pain. You miss the flash of guilt in his eyes, realising he pushed you too hard. An apology on his lips but the glare when your eyes open stops him. He’s seen anger in your eyes before, hate even, for he knew love didn’t come without it. But fear? Never of him, not even in the days when you were undercover and your life was one unveiled secret away from ending. 
“Get away from me,” you seethe, meaning every word, even when you saw the hurt in his eyes. 
Regret, Kim Namjoon never knew the feeling before, but he knew he never wanted you to look at him the way you were. He needed to keep his calm, one wrong push and you would tear him out of your own heart.
Your eyes fly all over the room, trying to piece together a way to gain some distance. Suho… maybe he was still behind the glass. You tug your wrist as hard as you can, taking steps away from him but his hold is relentless. The blare of the alarm stops ringing but the flashing red lights remain, staining the walls like blood pumping.
“Little lo-“ he starts to say with a sigh, he was being patient but there was only so much time left.
“Suho?” You call desperately trying to look through the glass. You know you’ve made a mistake before you even said his name but fear drives people to do stupid things without thinking.
The most notorious criminal in all of Seoul pulls you back against his chest hard. An arm wraps around your waist, the unforgiving grip on your wrist turning lethal. He rests his chin on your shoulder, staring at you through the mirror. The hairs on your skin stood on end at the frightening change in his eyes, danger rolled off of him and you had no choice but to take every wave.
“Do you think he’s there, love?” The corner of his lip lifts in a smirk that makes you think of a snake, the saccharine tone of his voice hypnotising. “Do you think he’s watching us?”
The palm on your hip moves down to your thigh, he squeezes the flesh. You could feel your heart jumping in your throat.
“Should we give him something to watch?” He murmurs seductively, turning his head to bring his lips so close to your neck. The bruising clutch on your wrist is gone only to find its way to your hair, yanking it back to give himself better access.
Your eyes in the mirror are begging but the inner turmoil from his touch is making you question what exactly you’re asking for. Reason tells you it’s for Suho to save you, to grant you escape, but the way you feel a familiar heat swim to your core has you doubting yourself.
“If he was in there,” he whispers, his lips now on your ear, “don’t you think he’d come in here and try to take you from me, love?”
He chuckles to himself, a joke only he can understand.
“Fuck I’d love to see him try.”
His groan has you aching, your body relapsing to what it knows, anticipating the pleasure and pain only they could provide. 
​​“I’m not mad at you for having us arrested, heaven,” he whispers in your ear, gaze softening for a second in the mirror lulling you into a sense of security you couldn’t tell if it was a trap. “In fact I’m a little in awe, a little proud.”
The smirk he gives you seems genuine.
“We deserved it I know,” reassurance fills his voice, he wants you to hear his sincerity. “What I’m mad about, little love…”
The softness is gone, eyes turn piercing, the proverbial snake about to strike.
“Is the fact you let another man touch what’s mine.”
The guttural rumble of his possessive claim sent waves of need down to your cunt, you could feel it pulsing. 
“I’m mine,” you return meekly, trying to find your resolve, but it sounded like a whine.
“Make no mistake Y/n, you’re always going to be mine.”
You didn’t have it in you to argue, not when he sent your eyes rolling back and a shiver down your spine. Fuck he hadn’t even touched you yet, maybe it was true, maybe a part of you would always belong to them, but that didn’t mean all if you did.
“Look at me,” he commands, his breath hitting your neck.
Your blown out eyes meet him in the mirror, that predatory but protective gaze piercing through you. He hums in approval the deep vibration fucking with your senses, making you hazy. 
You both hold eye contact even when you can see the fingers on your thigh stroke soothing circles up your skin. Your lips part with a harsh breath when they rub your mound through the fabric of your panties, the touch light and testing and not nearly enough. 
“You’re fucking soaking wet baby,” he calls you out with a grin.
You grab his wrist when his fingers cup your heat, his thumb soothing circles on your clit. You press against him, the warmth of his chest enveloping your back. You both fit so well together, you were forgetting why exactly you were so angry at him, but simmers of it still remained even through his touch. 
“You know,” he says, opening your leg with his knee to give him more access, “a lot of couples fuck through their problems, should we try?”
He hides his grin, burying his head in you but you can feel it against your skin, the arrogant asshole. 
“You can go and fuck yourself,” you sassed back, lying to yourself that you could be fine if he stopped now, that it wouldn’t leave you a needy mess. 
“But I’d rather fuck you,” he chuckles, breathing you in, savouring the moment while his fingers slide the fabric aside. 
You choke back a moan at the contact of his skin right where you wanted him, the way he spread your wetness until every inch of you was covered in it. 
“You can pretend to regret our relationship all you want, but this,” he emphasises his point by slapping your cunt hard, making you gasp, “still wants me.”
“It wants to get fucked,” you spitefully remark through gritted teeth, “doesn’t have to be you.”
That makes him pause, and you have to bite back the words of displeasure. 
“You’ll pay for that next time love,” he murmurs dangerously. 
“There won’t be a next time,” you try to ridicule him through a laugh but his fingers circle your entrance. 
“You’re lying,” he hums, “next time, I think we should tie you down, make you watch other women touch us in ways only you’re allowed to.”
You bury the fury that ruptures at the image, clenching your jaw to keep from swearing at him and proving the point he was trying to make.
“Maybe then you’d have a semblance of understanding of what you did- the torture you put us through.”
“I wouldn’t care,” you breathe, squirming against his fingers, he needed to shut up and move.
“Liar,” he chuckles knowingly, seeing right through you. Before you, there were many females in his organisation, until his little love demanded he get rid of them all. The memory stretches his grin wider. 
“Why the fuck was it me?” You whisper, your eyes starting to water at the vulnerability of your tone, remembering the same moment he was. “When I went undercover there were so many beautiful women-“
“They’re not you, little love, don’t for a second compare yourself to them,” he kisses your temple softly in reassurance. His face is in your hair, his hand on your throat as you preen to his touch. “You were sweet and addicting with a fire you were trying so desperately to contain.”
He thrusts two fingers in gently, watching your face contort in want in the mirror, smiling at the way your eyes rolled back. You whimper when he squeezes his grip on your neck.
“To think that passion we saw in your eyes was hatred at first,” he smiles as if amused, watching every little reaction you gave him, every proof of love.
“I did,” you confess, pressing your ass against his hard length and making him groan, “I hated you.”
“You were sent to destroy us, love, but instead you reached into our souls and thought there was something worth saving,” he chuckled, nuzzling into you softly as if he wasn’t knuckle deep inside of you, feeling every part he knew so well. “And save us you did, it was so dark before you our little light, how could we ever let you leave?”
“You’re fucking with my head,” you whimper, head falling back to his chest, it rumbles when he laughs.
“Hmmm? I’m definitely fucking your brains out today Y/n,” he promises with a chuckle, kissing your temple again, but emphasising his point when he scissors his fingers reading you for his cock. “If that’s what you mean.”
This was your fault, you knew what you were getting into when you fell for them. You especially knew Namjoon was the worst of them all. You let his soft side brush away his true nature, and while you never forgot his ruthless persona, you put it to the back of your mind. You foolishly thought you had tamed his cunning cold cruel- 
“Oh fuck,” whatever train of thought you had died, the palm of his hand rubbing your clit, stimulating your already aching cunt to the edge. Your parted lips open wider to release a silent scream, his fingers stroking so deep.
You were so close, you could taste it, unable to control the delirious sounds escaping you. So when he stops and slips his fingers away from you, you have to stop yourself screaming in protest. 
“Up against the mirror Y/n,” he commands gruffly, but you don’t move, you were so fucking close. Fuck him, fucking asshole, you were so fucking close. 
He picks you up with ease, pushing you against the wall so your breath fogs the surface. You hear the zip pull down, your forehead falls forward, your core pulsing in anticipation. He grabs your leg, opening you for him, the head of his cock sliding across your folds until you're whining.
“Stop squirming love,” he warns, but you don’t listen, of course you don’t, so he makes you listen. 
The sound you release when he slaps your clit with his hard dick over and over has him questioning his restraint, fuck he wants to just pound into you but you needed to be taught a fucking lesson. 
“Joonie sensitive,” you whine, but he’s relentless, making you cry out over and over. Fuck you could actually maybe cum like this. 
His self control wavers, his jaw clenched with such a force he thinks it’ll shatter. He couldn’t take it anymore, the swell of his head finds your entrance. Inch by inch, he relishes the feeling of your walls hugging him so fucking tight, the pulse of them pulling him in. He leans over you, trying to regain composure but you feel so good he doesn’t want to move, he wants to stay like this forever, inside of you where he belongs. 
You try to push back into him, but he grabs your waist with one hand to keep you still, grinding his hips against you and he knows it’s not enough. 
“Look at you arching your back little love,” he smirks, “Your body knows where you belong, it’s a shame you tried to take it away from me.”
Your hands ball into fists on the mirror, you can’t even look at yourself right now, you can’t stop writhing on the surface, trying so hard to get him to move. You squeeze him hard, making his head fall against you with a grunt. 
“Behave little love,” he warns, “or I’ll show your colleagues just how well you can take me.”
“Make me,” you dare him even though it comes out as a mumble. 
You were dizzy and disorientated and all you wanted was for him to fucking move. He pushes you against the wall hard, every inch of him covering you so you couldn’t budge. You whine, the cold of the hard surface making you seek his warm body, you slot against him like a damn puzzle piece. He was hell bent on torturing you today, as if you hadn’t suffered enough. 
“Joonie move,” you almost sound like a brat, trying to order him around. 
“I’ll move when I’m ready,” he growls animalistically, barely holding himself back, but he needed to savour this.
You do everything you can to break his control, writhing against him like a bitch in heat. He swallows hard when you clench again. He spanks your ass hard in return, the air gets thicker, you find it harder to breathe. You keep still, the sting of your ass satisfying your craving for a moment, but not for long. 
He picks up your skirt, watching himself inside you, watching the beautiful mess you were making. So wet, so perfect, how did you ever think for a second he would ever let this go? The sight is too much, he releases a restrained groan, done with holding himself back. 
His hand grips your cheeks, turning your mouth to his, forcing his tongue down your throat as he finally pulls out only to push back in impossibly deeper. You took every punishing thrust, his presence surrounding you everywhere, even in front of you where his reflection painted the surface. He smothered you with his existence, the heat of him scolding, but you liked it, you craved it. 
“Do you think your ‘friend’ understands who you fucking belong to now detective L/n?” He chuckles deeply watching your fucked out face in the mirror.
He uses his grip under your knee to turn you towards the camera in the corner of the room.
“Think they can all see little love?” He pants. “How well you fucking take it? How good you are for me?”
You shake your head in protest but it feels too good. Your head falls back on him without the mirror to lean against. His fingers find your clit, his sole purpose to make you lose yourself to him. 
“Fuck look at you shaking baby,” he groans, feeling you pulse around him, drawing closer to the edge. “Your poor pussy just needs to come huh?”
You can hear the smirk in his tone, fucking self satisfied prick. 
“Not as badly as you need it,” you taunt back, feeling your defiance flare despite how your body was begging you to behave.. 
“Fuck you might be right,” he groans, going harder, faster. “I’m always going to need it.”
His confession takes you over, the words pushing you so hard you come apart violently, thrashing against him as you unravel, but he holds you tight. He doesn’t let you fall. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think, all you could feel was him and the burst of pleasure that carried on wave after wave, and you never wanted it to stop.
“This is mine,” he grunts as he comes undone inside of you, fucking his cum deeper until it got through to your soul. 
He was a part of you, and you could try to deny it now with his mistakes on the table, but he was so embedded in the fabric of you he couldn’t see where he began and where you ended. His entire existence was for you, it was only fair your cunt, body and soul belonged to him. Maybe the others too, as an afterthought, but you were his first.
He feels the mess slide out of you as he leaves your warmth, turning you softly so you could lean against him as you catch your breath. He holds you tight, arn arm around your middle like the steel of a bar. He has every intention of letting you recover but the way you look up at him with those glossy eyes confirms the fact he will never be satiated, he will always want more of you even if there was nothing left to give. 
“Our little love,” he breathes in your face, stealing a hard kiss, “our little downfall.”
His mouth held you prisoner again and again, humming pleasantly as you let him devour you in so many ways. His kiss was bruising, hungry, overindulging.
Your eyes search his as he parts reluctantly, your mind still hazy, the bliss of sex still circulating your body.
“Why did you lie to me?” You whisper breathlessly against his lips as you come down, and he can hear the vulnerability in your tone, it makes a guilt spread across his chest that feels almost alien. The way you could make him ache like no one else, he should cast you aside for introducing a weakness in him but he wouldn’t even dream of it.
“I didn’t want to lose you,” he confesses sincerely. “I didn’t want you to hate me.”
“I asked you not to hurt him,” your eyes tear up again, and he curses himself and the existence of Kim Suho.
“I know.”
“But you did it anyway,” you continue, “and then you had the gall to lie to my face.”
You wipe away the tears that fall harshly, your mind clearing. You push him away and fix yourself up, knowing from the glances in the mirror you were a mess.
“You always own up to your actions, right or wrong, you never hide them,” you laugh and you think you must sound psychotic. “The Kim Namjoon… I remember the days you would drop dead bodies in front of me without remorse, without ever feeling the need to explain yourself.”
“I was testing you then,” he grunts, remembering those days well. “I needed to know you had the stomach to be with us.”
“I hated you so much,” you confess, swallowing down a sob. “And for the first time since I fell in love with you Joonie, I can feel that hate grow again.”
His jaw clenches, his fist too. He could feel a threat on the tip of his lips, one where the Captain's head would end up on a plate in front of you for dinner but he holds himself back.
“You don’t mean that,” he says between gritted teeth.
“I had you fucking arrested Namjoon,” you argue back fiercely. “Don't tell me what I mean or don’t mean.”
“You also fucked me after the fact,” he states and the harsh words slap you hard. You did. You let him defile you here only moments ago.
“Old habits die hard.”
“Not with me love,” he dismisses the thought. “Not as long as I’m alive.”
“We’ll see,” you challenge, feeling that earlier conviction rise. 
“Understand something Y/n,” he says seriously, his face solemn and hard in a way you had witnessed rarely. This was Kim Namjoon with something to lose. “You can run, you can fight, you can hate me if you need to, but there isn’t a life worth living for us without you in it.”
He takes his seat back in the interrogation chair, putting his handcuffs back on with ease, all while keeping his eye contact with you. 
“You want me here, you want to punish me,” he continues, “fine, this where I’ll stay until you’re appeased, until you forgive me.”
“I won’t,” you deny, shaking your head. 
“You will.”
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shut up. how could you write little live latest part SO beautifully????? umm we need more parts aSAP. yes we do.
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Would it help if I say I’ve already started writing part 9? I do however want to work on my other stories too but I’m just gonna follow wherever the inspiration goes 💜
IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT I WAS SO WORRIED 😁
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