Deep Desire (Yandere! Gang Leader x Reader)

~two~

The man puffed up his chest as he looked down on you - his face neutral, but condescending.

"There's not anything like that going on around here." He said, a passive-aggressive tone in his voice.

"Then there's nothing for us to find if we came in, correct?" You countered, throwing his lie completely out of the window. The man sighed deeply before opening the door fully and allowing the two of you to enter into his home, closing the door behind you.

"Would you like something to drink?" The girl asked, trying to distract herself. You took a seat on her couch, knowing that you weren't leaving anytime soon.

"If you don't mind. I'll take some black coffee." You replied, earning a nod from the girl as she went into the kitchen.

Her presumed boyfriend leaned against the wall, watching Matt intently as he went up to the second floor of the house. Once the other detective was out of sight, the man turned his attention to you. He then noticed that you were staring at him with an inquiring look.

"What?" He asked, seemingly offended at your stare.

"Where'd you get that one?" You asked, pointing to one of his tattoos on his wrist picturing a falcon. He huffed out in agitation.

"That's none of your business." He responded.

"You know, it makes a cop more suspicious if you don't answer my questions." You explained as the woman handed you your coffee.

"What's your name, ma'am?" You asked, stunning her for a moment.

"...Camille Richmond." She replied, looking anxious. You nodded.

"Thank you, Camille. Dixon!" You yelled, grabbing his attention from upstairs.

"Yes?" He yelled back, not wanting to go back down to the first floor. He hadn't found anything yet, but maybe he had overlooked something.

"Ms. Richmond made you some black coffee!"

Just as you had expected, Dixon came rushing down the stairs. You had left the police station before he could drink all of his beverage. And if he didn't have a coffee in the morning, he was beyond cranky. And usually would be for the rest of the day.

Matt walked over to you, a smile on his face. He grabbed the coffee and sipped it before thanking the young girl. She quickly nodded in response.

You looked over to the man.

"What's your name?" You asked him. He scoffed.

"That's none of your business." He replied. You shrugged.

"I mean, it kind of is, but I see what you're talking about. You want to go to the police station and talk about it, huh?" You said, smiling at him.

He glared at you for a moment before responding,

"... Ivan Miscovich."

"Hmm. Little bit of Russian history huh?" You asked, his last name intriguing. But he didn't say another word. Just stared at you, but you ignored him as you got up from the couch. Dixon then came to your side, saying something quietly in your ear.

"(L/n), I'm going to go and tell the guys on the radio that everything's fine. Would you mind taking the police report?" He asked.

"Yeah, that's fine." You replied. He nodded before exiting the home, closing the door behind him.

Before you could ask them some questions, you heard the sound of a gun cocking from behind you.

You tried to reach for your own weapon as you turned around, but stopped when you saw the gun being pressed to Camille's head.

Camille clanged desperately to her boyfriend's arm that was wrapped around her neck and began to cry, begging him to let her go and not kill her.

Quickly realizing the situation you were being put in, you began to talk to him.

"Ivan, don't do this." You begged, holding your hand out as to give you some false sense of authority and protection. He smiled.

"Drop your gun." He demanded, pushing the gun against Camille's head to show you that he was serious.

"Okay. I'm reaching for my gun.."

You grabbed the gun by the barrel, holding it up with two fingers and putting up your other hand to show that you weren't trying anything funny.

"I'm going to lay the gun down on the couch, okay?" You asked, not getting an answer.

Assuming that he was okay with it, you slowly laid the gun down on the couch and stepped about four feet away from it. You kept your hands up in the process, making sure that you were the least threatening as possible.

"Now lock the door."

Your eyes darted over to Camille, quiet tears slipping out of her eyes. You could slip out of the door quickly, but not without potentially threatening her life.

So - your choices limited - you did as he had asked. You slowly walked over to the door and flipped the lock, your anxiety piquing.

You were running out of options. And you knew that when Matt found that the door was locked, that he would freak out.

But what worried you more was the fact that you were stripped of your power. In one moment, Ivan had disabled your weapon and locked you in the house with him and Camille. He wasn't new to this. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"So." Ivan said, smirking as he held Camille tighter, "Let's talk."