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constancelaufeydottir · 3 years ago

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𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝

Pairing: Neighbour!Bucky x reader

Warnings: Mentions of knife, blood, cursing, murder, mention of cannibalism, dark!Bucky(?), major character death, slight smut, fluff.

Summary: Bucky set his eyes on his sweet and cute neighbour who had suffered from a loss recently, determined to make her his.

Word count: 4.3k

a/n: This is my entry for @ambrosiase hotel indigo writing challenge. It’s my first ever writing challenge, and I had a lot of fun writing this! Honestly, I'm really grateful for this challenge because it motivates me to finish this wip that has been sitting in the draft for too long. Thank you for this lovely challenge mae ♡♡

Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. If you see any mistakes, do let me know!

Room ⥤ Modern muse

Room service ⥤ neighbour + criminal

“Oh that poor thing.”

Bucky whipped his head in the direction of the voice. It was Mrs. Lockwood, his neighbour on the right.

“Huh?” He didn’t mean to voice out his confusion, but his brain was somewhat short-circuited, barely able to function when his sight was filled with you, and you only.

“That sweet girl over there,” Mrs. Lockwood was referring to you, his sweet neighbour to the left he was staring at, before the old lady came interrupting.

He had been staring for 5, 10 minutes maybe? He swore he wasn’t a pervert, you were just a sight for sore eyes, the healer of the wounds in his soul.

“What about y/n?” He asked, curious to listen to what his neighbour would say about the other neighbour. Also, he was fairly new to the neighbourhood, having just moved in last month, he ought to catch up with the gossip.

“Her boyfriend went missing a few months back, poor girl was devastated. Police suspected it was murder, even suspected y/n!” The old lady shook her head, casting pitying glances at the oblivious girl in the sundress, bathing under the sun with a book in her hand. “She’s such a sweet girl, how could they have suspected her?”

Bucky glanced at you, heart racing when you caught him looking. You shyly waved at him, a small smile plastered on your face hiding the underlying sadness of the loss of your loved one. His hand felt clammy when he raised one of them to wave back, his usual flirty self vanished whenever you were involved in the equation.

“Boy, you are in love aren’t ya,” Mrs. Lockwood teased, “I say go for it. Our lovely y/n definitely needs some lovin’ after what she’d been through and young man, I think you are the right person.” Her eyes crinkled as she patted Bucky encouragingly on the shoulder, like a loving mother cheering up her son.

Bucky, who was usually composed, blushed furiously. That big brain of his still hadn’t regained its functions thus he found himself unable to stop Mrs. Lockwood when she hollered at you.

Clearly immersed in your book, you jumped a little when you heard your name being called.

“Y/n, this young man would love to take you out on a date, what d’ya say?” His eyes widened at the accusation, though it was true that he wanted to date you, he just needed time to gather the guts to ask you out.

He saw you put down your book, walking towards him and Mrs. Lockwood. You were a front yard away from him, shielding the harsh sunlight from your eyes with your hands while leaning onto the fence.

“I’d love to,” you had to speak louder, and Bucky loved your voice as he only heard it only a handful of times now, often you were shy and quiet when you saw him.

“U-uhm, how about Saturday then,” He stuttered like a teenage boy who first received a love letter, suddenly forgetting how to speak, speech lost in the sea of disbelief and excitement, and affection.

You said nothing, only nodding and smiling at him, flashing those pearly whites.

“Great. 6pm. I’ll pick you up,”

“See you soon, James.” He watched as you walked away, a teasing smile on your face before you disappeared into the door. Gosh how he loved the way his name sounded on your lips, and he’d give anything to hear it again, and again.

Saturday came too soon, Bucky was not prepared at all. Well, he had done the reservations for the restaurant he’d planned to bring you to tonight, ironed out the creases and wiped off the non-existent dust on the dress shirt he would be wearing, so why was he nervous?

5:50 pm.

Call him old-fashioned or whatever, he’d prefer early to late and would love to escort you to his car. He stood in front of your porch, palm sweating and if his metal arm could secrete sweats, he was pretty sure it would end up like its counterpart.

You opened the door as soon as he rapped his knuckles on the wooden door, seeming eagerly waiting for him as he was for you.

He took in your outfit, the moderately revealing dress he liked, the one he saw you undress from, through his window countless times.

If it was possible to fall into a deeper love, he would.

The date couldn’t possibly be better than he imagined, it was perfect. Everything was great; the atmosphere of the restaurant, the quality of the food, and most importantly, you.

You were shy at first but opened up fairly quickly, telling him stories about you, and vice versa. You sympathized with him when he told you how he got the metal arm, your fingers grazing the delicate and intricate loops and lines on the metal surface.

His fingers were woven into yours halfway into the dinner, the cool metal fingers of his absently caressing your knuckles as you shared the story about your family, who disappeared mysteriously, then your ex-boyfriend, who went missing 5 months ago, like your family.

It was hard, talking about missing loved ones. Bucky could tell, by the way your hand unconsciously tightened, the lingering sadness in your eyes as you mentioned how happy you were before him. The way your tears were brimming in your eyes, threatening to glide down your face, it wrenched his heart, seeing how broken you were. He would try to pick up every broken piece of you in a heartbeat, mending them back together, fixing you until you were happy again if you would let him in.

He was kind of glad your ex-boyfriend was out of the picture, though it was a selfish thing to say. He desperately wanted to claim you, wanted to be your last and only boyfriend.

He’d been going on dates with you for a few months now. You were perfect, almost too perfect if he would say. You were practically his dream girl, so kind and generous. So sweet and loving. Pretty much everybody in this neighbourhood would agree with him and he sometimes wondered if he really deserved you. A beauty mingling with a beast. No one would ever want to see that, after all, even the beast turned into a handsome prince at the end of the fairytale.

Bucky wondered, if you found out what he did every night after you were asleep or what he took from your closet when you were away, would you still want him? If you found out the beast within him, would you still love him the same?

His thoughts were occupied and it wasn’t until the sharp pain in his fingers that he snapped out of his trance.

“Fuck!” You heard him cursing and went to him, gasping when you saw the streams of blood flowing from the deep cut from two of his fingers.

Hastily reaching out for the clean cloth from one of the drawers, you placed it over the wound, applying pressure on them.

The red quickly seeped through the pristine white cloth, two colours clashing as the red engulfed the white.

Bucky noticed you wincing at the red, gulping at the sight, head slightly turned away. It was obvious you were uncomfortable at the sight of blood, so he took the cloth himself and nudged you to wash the faint hint of blood on your palms.

“Sorry, now you might have to do this alone,” Bucky gestured at the ingredients on the counter, “and sorry for the cloth, blood stains are quite hard to get rid off.”

“Don’t you worry, a little hydrogen peroxide and the cloth will be as good as new,” Bucky let you tend to his wounds and pushed him towards the living room where he would sit at the couch for the next hour while you were busy at the kitchen preparing dinner.

While he was in the living room, he took in the interior of your house. He never got to take a close look, as he always had to sneak in when it was dark. The beige colour walls, cream coloured furnitures, books arranged perfectly on the floating shelves. The pictures and art hung on the clean walls, not one of them is crooked. The square coffee table with only the remote and a display plant on it, and when he shifted himself to sit at the center of the couch, did he realize the coffee table was lined up perfectly in the middle of the TV and the couch.

Bucky’s eyebrows raised, he didn’t depict you as a meticulous person. No wait, whenever he went out with you, you’d arrange the plates to sit between the utensils perfectly. When you get boba, the straws must precisely be in the center of the cup, and if you missed it, your eyebrows would furrow in annoyance subconsciously.

His eyes wandered over to your figure in the kitchen and was not surprised to find you wiping and hanging the cutting board on the ceramic wall, adjusting it with your fingers so it wouldn’t be crooked while waiting for the stew to simmer.

You caught him looking at you and threw a smile at him in which he reciprocated, then continued to let his eyes wander through your living room. This could easily be an IKEA showroom, he thought.

Another week went by, Bucky found himself more and more in love with you, if that was possible in the first place as if he didn’t already dedicate all the space in his heart for you.

You were both in the kitchen again. This time however, he was busy mixing the sugar, flour, and cocoa powder mixture, with you snuggling behind him, arms circling his waist as you watched him do the magic.

He felt sorry for not helping last time so he was making up to you by baking some brownies.

As you both were cleaning up, brownies baking in the oven, Bucky turned to you.

“Hey, I never asked, but what do you do for a living?” He questioned nonchalantly while wiping the huge plastic bowl.

The wet spatula fell from your grip, dropping into the sink of water, droplets of soapy liquid flecked on your shirt.

“O-oh, i’m an artist!” You let out a laugh to conceal your flustered state, “Aspiring artist to be exact.”

“An artist,” he hummed, as if chewing onto the meaning of the word, “could you show me your works?”

Your head whipped towards his direction, mouth parted in surprise. Nobody has ever appreciated your dream. Your family, your friends, your ex-boyfriends, all of them claimed that being an artist would lead you to being unsuccessful, and you deemed to prove them wrong.

“Yes, yes, of course,” you were overjoyed. Abandoning the half-washed utensils, you clasped your hand around his wrist and dragged him to follow you towards the second floor, into a room hidden behind another beige coloured door, where you kept all your works.

Rows of headless mannequins clothed in white dresses painted with red blossoms appeared before him as you pushed open the door.

He was utterly mesmerized. He trailed his gaze across the display, a smile painted his lips as he deduced that every piece of them was unique. No two dresses had the same pattern.

Some had plain red blossoms splattered on it, some had dark red waves littering on the bottom hem; some with brush strokes of red. There was also a different tone of red, bright and dark or somewhat in between.

“Wow, this is just … amazing!” He found himself at a loss for words, “are those blood?”

“Yes, they are.”

“I thought you don’t like blood?” Bucky teased.

“These are animal blood. I’m fine with it as long as it’s not coming out from a human,” you retorted.

He chuckled. Once again admiring the intricate patterns of your works, marvelling at how talented and perfect you were. His heart sank at the thought of the question he frequently found himself asking, how can someone so perfect like you end up with someone less than perfect like him.

You apparently noticed his changed demeanor as you inched yourself closer to pull him into an embrace, placing your chin on his chest, eyes searching for his sad blue ones.

“Are you okay?” He hugged you tighter, sighing.

“I’m fine. I just … I think you’re perfect and you’re everything I've ever wanted. But I'm not sure if I'm perfect enough for you.”

“Oh James, you’re more than enough. I assure you, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted too.”

Bucky felt like his heart was filled to the brim with adoration, butterflies erupted from his stomach. Your assurance was everything to him, keeping his wandering soul anchored and he was grateful for it, grateful for your existence. The more the reason to cage you by his side so you couldn’t ever leave him.

His lips were on yours the next second, his grip on your waist tightened as you deepened the kiss, tongue finding his; busy hands sliding from his stomach to his shoulder.

Both of you were drowning in this ecstasy, unwilling to part away from each other’s touch.

The loud ding of the oven startled the both of you. Momentarily parting from each other, you stared at him with a heated glance. His eyes were hooded, filled with lust, desire.

“Fuck the brownies,” you whispered, molding your soft lips on him once again, the hunger for each other far greater than the stupid brownies, “need you now.”

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice, large hands cupping your bottom as you hopped and hooked your legs behind him, arms instinctively went to his shoulders for support.

He brought the both of you to your room, the one he was all too familiar with, the one with the same cream coloured theme which could definitely pass as another IKEA showroom judging by how perfect the layout was.

The only odd thing that stood out in this far too perfect room was the trail of scratch marks extending from the door frame to the wall outside of the room.

The deep scratch marks were somehow etched deep in his brain, he couldn’t let it go. It felt as if there was a dot of blank ink on a piece of white paper, and even though there was more white than black, you’d only be fixated on the dot of black.

He would ask you about the haunting marks on the wall and your fingers that were tracing patterns on his skin would falter, you’d give him the warm smile he loved while brushing it off saying it was the huge Dobermann your aunt owned which did that.

Even when he was balls deep in you, the vivid image of the scratch marks were there in his head, though you were quick to draw back his attention with a grind on his hips, both of your bodies covered with sheen of perspiration. Strands of your hair sticking to your body, but you pay no care to them as you rocked your hips, chanting his name over and over again like a mantra, like a prayer.

His eyes were on your fucked out state, his grip on you like steel. The cool surface of his metal arm contrasted with your hot flushed body as you chase your high like a traveller chasing the oasis in a desert, desperate for a quench of thirst.

Even when he was chasing the same high, vision blinding with bliss, the marks were still there and this time they were accompanied by the white dresses painted with red, and red only.

Bucky was always a doubtful person. Doubting every single decision he’d ever made. Doubting himself, doubting others. But there was one thing he was certain of, there was something less than innocent lurking underneath your skin. Of course, he was still head over heels for you but he was pretty adamant to find out the sinister in you, hoping it would answer his questions, mainly the recurring image of a certain mark.

Bucky was a lot of things, dumbass , dork, clumsy(per sam), but he was not stupid. Hell, he was far from stupid. Those scratch marks, definitely not the Dobermann.

You were a perfectionist, you couldn’t possibly leave the mark there and acted like nothing happened in the first place. He’d imagine if it was the dog, you’d probably have someone fix the dent the same day, unwilling to allow even a speck of blemish in your flawless house.

Bucky was a lot of things, and being a dumbass was definitely one of them as he was showing up on your porch in the evening unannounced.

He’d considered sneaking in like he used to do but he knew, he saw that you were still in the house. He couldn’t and wouldn’t jeopardize your relationship with him knowing he’d get caught.

He knocked on your door, hearing footsteps paddling, rushing to him.

As you opened the door, your eyes widened at the sight of an awkward Bucky. Although you were quick to throw him an unalarming smile, he still caught the nervousness in you.

There was something off with you. The disheveled hair, thin layer of sweat adorning the crown of your head, unknown wet liquid staining your shirt.

He caught a whiff of the strong smell of chemicals wafting through the door, it smelled a lot like bleach.

“I’m sorry,” he scratched at the back of his neck, “is this not a good time?”

“It’s fine, come on in.”

The smell of bleach invaded his nose the moment he stepped into your house, flooding and overwhelming his senses causing him to wince.

“Were you deep cleaning?”

“Yeah, I accidentally spilled some of the animal blood this morning. Had to use hell lots of hydrogen peroxide to get rid of them. Sorry for the smell.”

“No no, it’s okay. Let me just open the windows and door, okay?” He was getting a little light-headed now, desperately needing some fresh air. “Doll, you need to ventilate every time you use bleach, it’s harmful for your health to inhale all these fumes.”

You blushed at the term of endearment, yet wanting to blame him for not calling you that earlier.

He went over to open the windows, sighing contentedly at the waves of fresh air hitting his face as the wind blew in.

He felt your arms snaking around him, head leaning against his broad back.

“I love you, James. Wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

“I love you too.” He turned around and hugged you, his chin propped on your head, not knowing you had a solemn expression on your face.

He’d spent the evening with you, watching TV on the couch with you in his lap. It was so mundane yet he’d never got bored of this, wanting to do this with you for the rest of his life.

Outside the window, the orange and yellow sky faded into darkness.

“Let’s order take out, how about Thai food?”

“I’ll cook,” you kissed him on the lips and got up from his lap before he could reply anything.

“Ok, you need help?” He heard a faint ‘no, it’s fine’ coming out of the kitchen followed by the clanking of pots and utensils.

His neck stretched to peek at your figure in the kitchen, too busy chopping up ingredients to notice he was no longer at the living room.

He made his way down the basement, where the pungent smell of the bleach was still lingering.

The wood creaked as he stepped on the stairs, announcing his arrival to the darkness surrounding the basement. The soft glow of light illuminated the large space, a wall of tins stacking on each other revealed to him. A few easels of different sizes were propped on the wall with several grey aprons hanging beside them.

He walked closer to examine the insane amount of tins. A small label that said Pig blood was stickered on the body of the white tin.

His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. Do people really sell animal blood in metal tins, wouldn’t they go bad?

There were loads of questions in Bucky’s head, questions with answers only you could provide.

He noticed a chest freezer sitting in the corner of the basement and his legs brought him to it before he came to realize. The whole basement was so quiet he could hear the soft ringing in his ears, the racing of his heartbeat amplified as his hand inched towards the lid.

There was nothing in the freezer, to his surprise.

The empty freezer stared back at him, as if mocking his fruitless attempt. He was relieved, or disappointed, he couldn’t tell the difference and there was no point in distinguishing them now since you had nothing to hide. He wasn’t even sure what he was expecting to find in the freezer.

“Babe?” You stood behind him with an apron on, a knife in your hand, a second after he closed the door to the basement.

He leaned against the door frame, hand went to his head, eyes squeezed shut as he pretended he was having a headache.

“Felt dizzy all of a sudden, I was just making my way to the bathroom.”

“Oh, okay. I was just about to tell you dinner's almost ready,” a tooth-rotting smile was plastered on your face.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he watched as you walked away, letting out the breath he’d been holding. His palm was clammy, heart beating rapidly.

“I love you,” You placed your hand on his arm, eyes meeting his.

“I know, doll. I love you too.”

This was seconds before dinner.

“James, I love you.” You whispered, watching him giving you a grin before he stuffed the meatball into his mouth.

“Wow, I'm so loved today. It’s the secon- no, third time you’ve said ‘I love you’ to me today.” He grinned, heart bursting with love. “You know I love you too.”

This was mid-dinner.

“I love you so much, James.”

Bucky was getting suspicious of you. Were you hiding something, perhaps cheating on him? For there were no reasons for you to keep telling him you loved him even though he knew how much you loved him and vice versa.

“I love you,” you kissed his knuckles, “this might be the last time I get to say I love you, James.”

His eyebrows furrowed at your statement, mouth parting to question what you meant. Before he could voice out something, the world faded into nothingness.

A thin film of blurriness clouded his eyes when he opened them, Bucky had this feeling like he was drowning in a swamp and his whole body was bound.

Blinking furiously, he regained his vision. You were sitting on a chair leaning forwards while looking at him endearingly, your elbows propped on your knees, palms supporting your chin.

“Hello, my love,” you were smiling oh so sweetly. The same smile that got him mesmerized and head over heels, except this time he didn’t feel the warm fuzzy feeling exploding in his chest, this time it was the goosebumps crawling on his arms and the chill creeping up his spine.

Now everything made sense, every single of his questions was answered.

You looked down at his body, the one that was once full of life, full of love. You watched as his glassy blue eyes etched with fear quickly reduced into this grey lifeless orbs, still pretty but lacking the element of a beautiful soul.

You weep for him, mourn for him. Mourning the short duration of love shared between the both of you. Mourning for yourself, for falling too hard. Mourning for him who kept you always in his heart.

To be honest, you were a little hesitant to end his life, he was better than the last one. He was perfect, warm, kind, loving, gentle, but not perfect enough. He simply did not reach your expectations, and you, could not bear imperfections, even the slightest. The answer to his downfall was pretty easy, he was too close to the ugly truth. And despite you knowing his love for you outweighs his doubt and fear in you, you simply couldn’t risk it.

Your love for perfection exceeds your love for him.

The melodious music of your ringtone echoed in the ample space of the basement, you brought up your phone to your ears as you answered the call.

“Mrs. Lockwood? Yes. Of course. I did. No no no, I’ll do it for you this time. He would definitely taste delicious I assure you.”

Time to get to work, you sighed as you stood there with a white dress splattered with blood. How artistic, you thought.

You always loved this part of the process, you’d wear the whitest piece of dress you own whenever you work with your projects.

You loved how the blood peppered your clothes, forming blossoms of dark red flowers on the fabric.

You kept every single piece of them, because no two are the same. Every one of them tells a story, of men and women who loved you and who you loved, of those who were once a body with a soul.

Wiping away the tears rolling down your cheeks, you gave Bucky one last loving look and the blade of your butcher knife came in contact with his once pink but now pale skin as you hummed, the sound bouncing off the walls of the basement, forming echoes.

A few blocks away, a baby cried, body covered in mucus. The tiny infant cried, each time louder than the previous, wailing his lungs out, as if mourning. For one soul born, another reaped.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #neighbour bucky #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #the hotel indigo writing challenge #maeras writing challenge

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donaidk · 4 years ago

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Alex Albon - This is my show I.

The first chapter of the Alex & Lily Maffia Au is here fresh and steaming just for you guys 🤗 This was a lovely request from @formulola that I kept in my drafts, making my little game plan for it until now as i didn't have time immediately to write it. I'm pretty new to the world of aus but I'm not stepping down from a challange 😏 Also, it's probably not the usual maffia setting, it's a mix between probably everything dark 😂 I hope you guys will still like it, and I will try to bring the next chapters soon 😊🧡

TW: Injury, Blood (mild)

Masterlist | Taglist/Queue | Request

A week earlier

Alex was just fixing up his tie in the body length mirror on the side of the well lit closet when he could hear rustling sounds coming from the bedroom. A smile was immediately evident on his face, though his eyes stayed focused on the task at hand, literally, knowing the source of the noise wouldn’t run away in the next few seconds. It wasn’t often that they stayed at the others on weekdays, with both of their work schedules full to the limit, but there were occasions that you couldn’t just let slip. Lily’s birthday was part of the list that was sacred for Alex, not letting anything get in the way of them spending some time together finally. Not even if that meant more work for the following days. Getting back from his thoughts he pulled once more on the silky material and left the little room, entering back into the bedroom.

“ Good morning sleepyhead. ” He grinned at Lily, the two of them exchanging a quick kiss when she sat up a little, still under the duvet. “ Don’t look at me like that. You know I have to catch up with work today. ” Alex let out a sigh as soon as he saw the pout that got on Lily’s face, seeing he was already dressed in his usual work clothes.

After 4 months of dating, they knew each other’s schedules like the back of their hands. Their office hours were almost the same, both of them sitting behind a table for 8-10 hours 5 days a week, or at least that was what they knew about the other. Their same interests were a huge part of their first meeting, firstly connecting over their love of sports and then realising how they both were into the same style of art, consisting mostly of drawings and paintings. For once in his life Alex felt like he found someone who truly understood him and for whom, even the topics that were usually boring for other people, seemed just as exciting as it did for him. After just a few dates and spending almost every weekend together they were ready to call themselves a couple, Alex asking the first big question in a relationship during their picnic in a local art museum's little park. Since then they spent every free minute they had together at either Lily’s flat in the middle of the city or Alex’s apartment on the side of the mountain.

“ I do… I’ll have to as well, just a bit later. Are you taking a look at that painting collection today? ” She asked, kicking off the duvets to finally start getting ready. Alex answered with a quick nod, not even fighting his instincts as his eyes followed Lily to the bathroom. “ Is dinner still an offer for tonight? ” She asked again, from the little en-suite, her voice echoing between the white tiled walls.

“ It can be, if the traffic won’t be too bad. I just have to get back home in time. ” Alex answered, getting his watch onto his wrist and deeming himself ready to take on the challenges of the day. “ I have to go, but I’ll call you when we’re finished. ” He stepped to the bathroom, stealing one last kiss from Lily before taking his bag and phone from the living room and leaving the apartment.

Alex drove the usual half an hour to the office, parking his car in his own spot and took the elevator to almost the last level of the building. He was met with familiar faces, greeting all his coworkers on the way to his own little cubicle. As one the head writers for the magazine, he knew almost everyone and everything around the corporation. Even a part of it that was closed off to everyone other than the boss, him and a few other guys all in leading positions. Putting his bag down on the table he got his laptop and papers ready for the day, just as someone knocked on his door, peeking inside immediately.

“ George is ready for us if you’re done pretending. ” Lando rolled his eyes at the organized workspace, ducking behind the glassdoor when his joke was rewarded by a pen flying his way. It sadly bounced off the glass, Lando opening it again when he deemed it safe again to do so. “ Are you coming or should I tell him to find someone else? ” His friend asked, stepping away from the doorway, when Alex finally decided that he was ready to leave.

“ Are you coming with me today, or do I get to finally finish a job on time and without any mess-ups? ” Alex asked as they walked down the hallways together, Lando snorting at the audacity his colleague had for calling him out like that. “ Don’t even try to argue. We both know I wasn’t the one getting almost caught the last time. ” Alex elbowed his side, the younger one taking a few faster steps to get away from him before another attack could arrive at his ribs.

“ It’s your job today. It’s a public collection and the media pass will be perfectly enough to get you inside. ” Lando shrugged a little, knocking on the big door when they arrived at the end of the hallway. The boss’ assistant let them inside, sitting them down until George was ready for them. “ Everyone was jealous that you got to write about this one. If they would know what goes down in the background… ” He let out a laugh and Alex let a smile get onto his face. He has been with the ‘team’ longer than Lando, making him the more experienced of the two of them, but he would have been a great challenger for Alex if they were in the same position.

“ If they knew we would be in jail already. ” Alex snorted, pocketing both of his hands as they waited for the other big glass door to finally open. It was darkened enough that no one could see inside but it still matched the style of the whole of the office with all the shiny glass doors and huge windows. “ Sometimes I wish that more people knew about this side. Then I remember the few idiots we work with, and how they would mess up everything. You’re already here for that position. ” He patted Lando’s thigh, pulling away when he received a fist into his shoulder in the next second.

A few minutes later the assistant let them in, asking them to sit down as George was still on the phone. As two of the few people that he worked very close with neither of them were a threat to a private call anyways. Alex sat down in one of the chairs right across from the desk crossing his legs and patiently waiting, while Lando went to get himself a drink like he was in his own office. George just rolled his eyes at the younger one’s antics, while he tried to concentrate on the words thrown at him over the line. When he finally put the devic down Lando was already sitting in the other chair, taking small sips from the glass in his hands as he was never the best with alcohol but still liked to have a drink once in a while. Mostly when it was free, even though one glass at a bar wouldn’t kill his wallet or bank account. Not any of theirs really.

“ So, about today’s job. Alex, you’re going to the exhibition today if I remember right. ” George asked, leaning back in his seat, his face relaxing a bit as business talks were always more frustrating than planning things that brought him profit almost immediately. “ We already have your media pass and a map ready, and they also should have your name on their list. ” He pulled one of his drawers open, pulling the mentioned items out onto the desk adding a card to the bunch that Alex suspected to be an entry card to the backstage of the exhibition. He wasn’t about to ask questions about how they managed to get one, as there were things even he didn’t want to know about. “ Are you taking anything else? ” George asked as Alex pulled everything closer to himself, already looking through the map.

“ You mean a gun? No, thank you. I managed without until now and I’m not changing that for this one time. ” Alex shook his head, not looking up but hearing the sigh both men let out. Even though all his actions were illegal, violence wasn’t on his plate ever. He would rather choose intelligence and smarting people out than hurting them when he got in trouble. “ It will be quicker and more effective to act as a stupid reporter who just went to places he shouldn’t. ” He added, looking up at his friend and boss, both of them knowing that Alex had enough self defense training to get himself out of tight situations.

“ Good luck then. I will have to get to meetings but Lando will be on the line if you need help. We will talk about everything else tomorrow. ” George nodded, the others getting up and leaving the office as soon as Alex put everything away, not to give the people outside any more ideas than they already had. The simmering adrenaline was already there as they separated, Lando getting back to his work while Alex took the elevator down to the parking lot.

A company car was already waiting for him in one of the parking spots, even though he had his own everyday car to get to work and then back home. It was easier to have a separate one that was upgraded for runaway action and also could be followed by Lando back in the office, to make sure he was actually fine, than wrecking and having to replace his own one. That would have been a bit obvious to both his family, friends and probably the neighbours who knew him as an everyday writer with a boring worker’s life. However careful he was, there were sacrifices he had to make while bailing, and the car was the smallest damage to the whole operation. He still tried to stay away from trouble, but when it was a main part in your everyday life, you couldn’t run forever from it catching you.

Arriving at the well known building Alex parked down his car and made sure everything was on him before locking the vehicle and walking up the big stairs. The media pass granted him access without a second look from the security guards, and he was already in the main showing room in seconds. As Alex actually enjoyed art shows and museums he didn’t really mind having to pretend for a few hours, walking around the recommended route and taking notes of the paintings for his articles as well as of cameras and security setups. The thin crowd in the rooms and the fact that it was still only an early access day for media personnel was all the advantage he needed to get a whole picture of the little areas. Just as everyone was advised to gather together in the main hall for a drink and opening speech he was standing right next to the door that was also highlighted on his little map. It was an entrance to the behind the stage hallways and rooms that somehow fell out of view on every ceiling mounted camera. He just had to make sure there weren’t any security guards or nosy colleagues around him as he swiped the card over the little reader.

With a last quick look behind himself, making sure no one actually saw him, he stepped through the doorway, pulling it closed behind himself. With a sigh of relief he pulled out the map again, making sure he didn’t miss the room he had to get inside from the long hallway. Pushing the paper back into his pocket, he was already walking down to the highlighted room, hoping that security would be as overwhelmed by the huge gathering in the main room as they were informed they usually are. Stepping inside the room was another checkpoint, his focus turning towards finding the papers that would tell him the planned schedule and also some passwords to the place. It took him time to find everything, a rush of adrenaline hitting him at every sound from the outside but luckily no one felt like opening the door onto him. He scribbled everything important down, into his notebook making it seem like just a normal part of the article he planned on writing as a review of the place. It was a perfect way of being safe about anyone checking his stuff out if he somehow gets caught before leaving the part that was closed off to everyday guests.

“ Hey, shouldn’t you be in the main hall? ” Alex was just a few steps away from the door, thanking all his luck that the guard didn’t stumble around the corner while he was stepping out from behind it.

“ I was in the bathroom and missed the announcement most likely. ” Alex smiled at him, hoping he won’t throw too many questions at him and confuse him into his own lies. “ Where can I find them? ” He asked, following the guard when he fortunately guided him through the rooms without another word. Alex joined the group of people there, trying to blend in as well as he could, gettin any kind of attention off himself.

At the first given chance he was among the first ones leaving the building, hoping no one caught onto his actions from a few minutes earlier, walking into the car park and finding his vehicle. Even though he wasn’t close to getting caught he could never truly feel safe until all steps of the plan were completed and he was already on his way home. He had to be careful as people following him home was still a possibility, making him take a lengthy route home, parking the car far away from his own block and just walking the remaining distance, mostly taking thin and dark alleyways whenever possible. When he was finally inside his own building, stepping inside the elevator, he pulled out his phone sending a ‘Good night!’ text to George, signaling that he was fine and everything went well. They could never know when their rivals could see into their phones or online profiles, forcing them to talk in code whenever they had to discuss any kind of events that included their life behind the one they showed to most people. Alex was just one cog in a huge machine that represented George’s underworld corporation, but losing him could cause immense damage to the stability of the group that kept them over all the other rival groups.

Closing the work chapter in his head for the day, the only remaining thing he could think about was his bed and the duvet pulled over his head, although a part of him knew there wouldn’t be time for any of that. He still had the plans with Lily for a nice dinner together and even though he already had the food ready in his fridge for it, the apartment was a mess and he still had to get a few things ready for the briefing tomorrow. Balancing a real and a hidden life as well as actually writing the articles to keep up a picture of himself to everyone else drained most of his energy. That’s why he never really let anyone close to himself, until Lily came along and turned Alex’s world upside down. It felt like their meeting was meant to be and Alex couldn’t let her go as easily as everyone before. He felt an actual and immediate connection towards her and promised himself to do anything and everything to keep Lily in his life. Of course, he meant the safe side where she wouldn’t get hurt by all the people he made angry in the last few years since he started working for George. It was still deemed as his best decision ever, but he also never thought he would find someone to spend so much time with and actually enjoy it. That was never part of the picture he imagined as his future.

Stepping inside the apartment he mostly threw everything down in his office, pulling the door closed as always before he turned around and pointed himself towards the bedroom and more specifically the closet. He could hear the wind outside blowing furiously a bit too much, his eyebrows rising higher when he spotted the open window next to his bed. Letting out a defeated sigh at the old framing that never closed perfectly he stepped closer and pushed it shut before continuing his way inside the closet to finally change into something more comfortable. He already had a shirt and sweats ready on the side and was just about to get his blazer off when he heard something move behind him, but before he could turn around something flew by his head and his gaze got stuck on the object. It was a knife, lodged into his closet door, and a piece of the dark blue material of his jacket hanging off of it. In the next second Alex could see something move in the body-sized mirror next to him, making him turn around and run after whoever just attacked him inside his own place. He could just see the body run out the now open front door, closing it again as they left somehow locking it on him from the outside.

By the time he fetched his own keys and opened the door again the person was well out of sight and Alex knew there was no chance of him catching up. They could have gone several ways, all of them leading to different roads and streets, making it impossible to guess correctly. With a defeated sigh he strutted back inside to at least get the knife out of the door it got thrown at and as he passed the mirror again he also realised the weapon did injure his arm in a thin line. It wasn’t a deep cut and he couldn’t even really feel it, but the idea of how wrong it could have gone with just a few inch difference scared him more than anything before. He never ever before got attacked in his own home, and until now thought he managed to separate his work life from the one he lived outside this apartment quite well. In this exact moment it dawned on him that he knew far less than what was actually going on.

Shrugging out of the shirt he gathered a bigger chunk of gause, wrapping it around the upper part of his arm before it would get anything else dirty. He pulled on another shirt, hoping the bandage won’t soak through as the scar was thin and only on the surface of the skin. The food in the fridge was already forgotten as Alex couldn’t imagine staying one second longer inside this room and started looking for a restaurant in the proximity of his block where they could go out to eat instead. Luckily there were many to choose from and a few minutes later just as the phone that was connected to the gate on the bottom floor of the building started ringing he already had a table reserved for the two of them. Alex let Lily inside, waiting for the girl to get up to his floor and get to the open door.

“ I’m sorry, but I might have lost the key you gave me. I couldn’t find it anywhere. ” Lily let out a sigh, stepping into the welcoming hug she was offered and almost started getting her coat off, but was stopped in time.

“ It’s okay, we will get you a new one, but we ‘re going out to eat instead of making dinner if you don’t mind. ” Alex gave him a smile, taking his own coat from the hanger so they could leave as soon as possible. “ We can eat the food in the fridge tomorrow or next time, but I really don’t feel like staying inside tonight. ” He explained even before Lily could have asked about the reason behind his decision.

With one last look into the apartment Alex shut the lights off and closed the door, locking it with his keys. Pushing the keychain into his pockets he took Lily’s hand and led her back to the elevator, slowly falling into a conversation. She winced away for a second when Alex squeezed her hand gently, showing a little cut in the side of her palm to him and saying she injured herself as she packed out her bag, searching for the keys to his apartment. It didn’t seem like anything serious still, Alex couldn’t hold back and planted a little kiss onto her skin there, making Lily chuckle while they left the elevator and then the building to walk to the restaurant which was just a few minutes away from them. Alex almost forgot about his own injury and the happenings of the day during their walk and tried to completely put it into the back of his mind as they got inside the restaurant to take their seats at the table and have a lovely meal together. He had enough time the next day to go through everything once again and figure out where they went wrong.

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joon-ipersgirl · 4 years ago

Text

O5 - “the coveted client”

genre: mafia!au, angst, fluff, slow burn, mystery-thriller

pairing: namjoon x reader (f)

word count: 4.6k

warnings: cursing

summary: charismatic. beautiful. fearless without question. the ambitious team of seven young men in charge of spiral, downtown district's hottest new club, go above and beyond to provide 100% satisfaction to their clients.

after an eventful night out, you have no choice but to join the team for property damages greater than your intern salary. challenging a series of events that can no longer be left to coincidence, secrets threaten to burst at the seams as your professional and private life collide, and another - more sinister - debt is added to your total.

how far are you willing to go to pay back your pound of flesh? remember nothing is ever as it seems...

a/n: hello friends. here is part 5. leave a comment on how you're feeling about this story. i'm debating on discontinuing it from tumblr. thank you vi for reading as always. enjoy everyone :)

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

Training tonight @ 6pm. Don’t be late. You read the incoming text with a grin. Even in text, Suga is straight to the point. Shoving your phone back into your pants pocket, you leave the small kitchenette and head back to your small desk with a fresh cup of coffee in hand. You can still remember the looks of horror on the boys’ faces after Suga announced your immediate hire and it’s been two weeks since then. Was it wrong to take pleasure in their discomfort? Probably. Would you stop? Never.

“Is that a smile I spy on Miss Y/N Y/L/N’s face? The Devil must be here to collect his wife,” Paul exclaims as you sit back down. You laugh and prop your chin on your hand as you stare at him over your desktop screen.

“Can a woman not just be happy, Paul? Why does it have to come at the expense of a man?” you ask, a fake feign of hurt in your voice.

“Of course women can. Just not you,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. You shake your head, your smile still present on your face. Paul would not ruin your good mood.

“Ouch. That one might have hurt if I actually gave a fuck about your opinion of me,” you say while reorganizing the folders Manager Kim had dropped onto your desk from the day before.

“Y/N! Language!” Laura chides as she walks into your cramped office space. You roll your eyes and flip through the countless papers on your desk to order them in order of priority.

It’s honestly a miracle that none of you manage to murder each other while you work though it’s crossed your mind several times. JM Events and Affairs is a lucrative event planning company, but apparently could not afford to at least place its clerks in a room larger than 500 sq ft. Being entry level is a struggle most days, but eventually it would all pay off and you would become a successful event planning guru. For now though, you’re stuck here with the imbeciles you had to call co-workers.

“Manager Kim wants to see us in her office,” James says as he pokes his head around the wall of the cubicle, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. “Now,” he emphasised. He doesn’t wait for you to follow.

Paul shoots you and Laura a raised brow of confusion as you grab your notepads and file down the long corridor to Manager Kim’s well decorated office. She’s an older woman who’s been in the business longer than you’ve been alive. She credits her success to always staying ahead of the trend even if she didn’t create it, though most times she did. Her style is impeccable and she is meticulous as she is jovial. She’s, quite simply, a genius.

James has already taken a seat in one of the two plush grey chairs in front of her large, industrial sized desk. Rows of colorful binders are organized on her desk - no doubt detailing the new events the company is planning on hosting. Manager Kim enjoys the arts and it’s evident from the variety of paintings that hang on the wall. Today, she’s dressed in a powder blue knit sweater that matches whatever shade of nail polish she wears tucked into a pair of belted, high waisted wide leg pants. Her matching steel toe boots peek from underneath.

“Ah, good. You’re all here,” she begins as she sits behind her desk. You gesture for Laura to take the other available seat as you stand behind James and Paul stands next to you.

“We have a new client considering the company for an event. He’s very important for future networking opportunities so I expect the very best work from you.” Manger Kim usually wasted no time getting straight to the point and today is no different. “In fact, I’ve been monitoring your work very closely because I knew a client like this would be coming very soon,” she stands from her desk, navy blue binder in hand.

“What kind of event is he planning on having?” James inquires, his pen ready to take notes.

“He didn’t give specific details, but I’m sure if we can book him for this minor event, he’ll give us the main one. I’m quite sure of it.” Manager Kim snaps the binder shut and smiles at you all. Her white blonde bob is immaculate, not a single strand out of place.

“Should we start drafting ideas now?” Laura asks.

“Yes, I need several drafts from each of you by 4pm this afternoon. Please have them -”

“Are we just supposed to forget about the other events we have coming up? This guy didn’t even give us any major details for effective planning!” Paul interrupts. Manager Kim turns to look at him.

“Well Paul, if this client is of no importance to you -” Paul tries to backtrack, but to no avail as Manager Kim continues on “- I will not need your drafts or your portfolio.” She beams at him and Paul blanches. You grimace.

“As I was saying. Please have your portfolios and 4 drafts submitted to me by 4pm today. They should be in priority order and include everything from food to colors, entertainment and venues. Remember, the customers knows best -”

“- but finesse, finesse, finesse,” you, Paul, James, and Laura finish. Manager Kim should have that framed and put on her wall.

“Lovely. Goodbye,” she waves no longer looking at you, already lost in her grueling event editing process. You knew better than to loiter and the four of you head back to your small workspace.

“You really fucked up there Paul,” you say as you sit down at your desk.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Paul deadpans. He drops his head quite heavily on his desk. Laura winces.

“It’s okay, Paul. Maybe you can still show her something and -” she starts.

“You know Manager Kim isn’t the forgiving kind,” James interrupts. “There’s nothing more he can do,” he finishes nonchalantly.

“I hate to agree -” you begin.

“No you don’t,” Paul cuts in.

“- but James is right. Manager Kim is all about quick thinking and Paul failed that test. He’ll have another time to redeem himself, but he has to sit this one out. You should be happy, Laura. Less competition,” you say with a shrug and flip open your notepad to start drafting.

“Do you even have an empathetic bone in your body, Y/N?!” Laura hisses as she walks over to rest a hand on Paul’s shoulder.

“Sometimes,” you reply. “But everyone has to eat and I refuse to go to sleep on an empty stomach.”

Laura looks disgusted at your answer and she goes back to consoling Paul. James had left the conversation a long time ago and you admired his ability to ignore almost everyone around him. His coldness and detachment made him ruthless in an unsuspecting way and you’d learned the hard way not to underestimate him. Laura would learn eventually that while people thought it was the strong who survived, it was really those who were able to adapt to any environment that really thrived.

It’s after lunch that you receive an email from Manager Kim requesting for you to meet her in the lobby in fifteen minutes without any further explanation. You ask no questions and sit in the lobby, counting the people that come out of the elevator that were not Manager Kim. It’s already 1:24 pm and you’ve just started your third draft. Creating on a time crunch with no real guidance is no walk in the park and you try to keep your frustrations under control as you run through possible color combinations for the event.

“Y/N! There you are! Let’s go,” Manager Kim calls as she exits the building without checking to see if you follow.

You scramble to grab your purse and notepad, scurrying across the lobby in the high heels she insists you wear. Manager Kim is already seated in a company car as you yank the passenger side door open and fall into the seat.

“Very good,” she says and wastes no time pulling into traffic. You awkwardly try to secure your seatbelt as she zips through the small spaces between cars. Gods protect you from this woman and her hazardous driving.

“Where are we going?” you ask after you manage to situate your purse, coat, and notepad in your lap comfortably.

“Downtown. We’re meeting with the client.”

“We?!” you repeat, surprised.

“That’s what I said isn’t it? We’re also late,” she says as she makes a sharp right turn onto Matthews St. You barely miss hitting a cyclist and you send up another small prayer for you to make it to your destination safely.

“What about the drafts and portfolios? Aren’t you going to review -”

“Did I say I wasn’t?” She glances over at you from the corner of her eye and you close your mouth. You would not fail this test.

Manager Kim pulls over into an impossibly tight space in front of a large corporate building that reads Hastings and Lewis. A well established law firm if you remember correctly. It has to be at least 14 stories high and exudes the architect’s vision of simple modern design with large windows and exposed steel structural support. You both exit the car and you align your steps with hers, your heels clicking in time against the marble flooring as you enter the building. You say good afternoon to the doorman who simply nods at you in greeting.

“Hello. How can I help you?” the receptionist asks behind the raised desk, her head barely visible.

“Yes, hello. My name is Madeline Kim. I have an appointment to speak with Mr. Cavallero at 2:15pm.” You glance at the clock behind the receptionist. 1:53pm. You bite your lip to hold your outburst. To be early is to be on time, you could hear her say.

The receptionist smiles and nods as she searches her computer for the appointment. “Yes, here it is. Please have a seat. Someone will come and get you shortly.”

Manager Kim nods and perches in one of the available seats. You shake your head as you take a seat next to her, ignoring the itching in your palm to pull out your notepad and finish your drafts. You can tell by the way Manager Kim is sitting, not scrolling through her various binders or the calendar on her phone, this is a formal interview and you would not be the one to fuck it up. There would be time to finish the drafts. You would make sure of it.

“Ms. Kim?” A young man in a sharp, black suit stands in the center of the room smiling at you. 2:05pm. Right on time. “If you could follow me this way, please.” He turns towards the golden elevators and you follow behind him. “My name is Lewis Carlisle and I am the assistant to Mr. Cavallero,” he tells you as he pushes the button for the 10th floor. He sticks his hand out for each of you to shake.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Carlisle. Thank you for having us. This is my assistant, Ms. Amani Jung.” A lie, but you go with it.

“A pleasure to meet you,” you say with a bright smile and a firm handshake. He returns a smile of his own.

The elevator doors open and you follow Mr. Carlisle through the open workspace plan. This is the kind of place that promoted collaboration and teamwork. How could it not when the light airy feeling made you want to turn to your neighbor and ask them what they thought about a particular problem? JM Events and Affairs should have hired their interior designer. Maybe some of their employees wouldn’t struggle as much to meet their deadlines.

“Mr. Cavellero unfortunately will not be able to meet with you in person today -” Manager Kim’s smile tightens at his words “- but he did relay all of his expectations for the company brunch,” Lewis says as he holds open the door to a small meeting room. It’s in the center of the floor and the walls are made of pure plexiglass. It screamed expensive.

“How wonderful,” Manager Kim comments as she sits down and sets her purse down on the ground.

“Would either of you like something to drink? Water? A Coke?”

“ A water with light ice will do, thank you,” she says.

“I’ll take a bottle of water, please,” you reply and sit down beside Madeline. You discreetly pull out your design notepad along with your actual note-taking pad. Lewis nods and promises to return quickly with your drinks as well as the file containing the event details.

“You seem upset,” you comment while scribbling down the words brunch and law firm onto a new blank sheet for your fourth and final draft, your brain already conjuring up ideas.

“What makes you think that?” she asks, turning to you slightly as she too sets up her own note-taking station.

“Your smile failed to meet your eyes,” you say nonchalantly. From the corner of your eye, you see her break into a grin as Lewis enters the room, a cup of water in one hand, a bottle in the other, and a slim manilla folder tucked underneath his arm.

“Thank you again, Mr. Carlisle,” Manager Kim says with another bright smile, her hand in his as they shake hands again.

“You’re very welcome. I’m sure Mr. Cavallero will love what you put together for brunch,” he replies.

The meeting seems to be a success and you’d gained some much needed insight for your fourth draft while being Madeline’s “assistant”. You’re no longer paying attention as you exit the meeting room and head back towards the main elevator, Madeline and Lewis making polite conversation. You run over all of your drafts as you check the time discreetly. It’s 3:20pm. You would still have enough time to review your plans and work on the others files Manager Kim had assigned. You grin in victory.

“Mr. Cavallero!” Lewis exclaims as the elevator doors open.

The man is an older gentleman with neatly groomed hair and warm brown eyes. His coal grey suit is neatly pressed, a sharp crease present in the center of his pant leg. Definitely high quality and only dry-cleaned. His smile displays a set of perfect of white teeth. As he steps out of the elevator, holding it open so it wouldn’t close, the Armani Exchange watch glitters under the artificial lights.

“Mr. Carlisle. I assume this must be our event coordinators. I’m sorry I couldn’t meet with you. An emergency meeting was called for a major case,” he apologizes.

“I understand, Mr. Cavallero. Things are sometimes out of our control. No need to explain,” Madeline says with a smile as she enters the elevator. You follow behind her. “Mr. Carlisle was quite capable. I will have Miss Y/L/N send over the final details for the event by Friday for your approval.”

Mr. Cavallero’s eyes shift over to you and he smiles. “I look forward to it. Enjoy the rest of your day, ladies.” He let the doors go as Lewis tells you goodbye, the doors closing off the last of his words.

Manager Kim’s shoulders visibly relax as you descend to the lobby, but you make no comment. Though their conversation was brief, something had clearly transpired between them. Madeline seems to have noticed you watching her as she inhales and fixes her posture. She was back to business.

“I assume I don’t have to tell you not to say anything about this meeting?” she asks as she nods her thanks to the doorman, your steps once more in sync as you exit the high rise building.

“What meeting?” You say with a grin as you wait for her to unlock the company car.

The heat of the staircase in Spiral welcomes you again like a familiar friend after not seeing them for a long time. There is still the hustle and bustle of vendors dropping off boxes as the final details of the new designs are being put into place. People couldn’t wait to see how Spiral had fared after the robbery - which you still didn’t believe was actually what happened - and it seems like Friday’s opening night couldn’t come soon enough. Even Paul and Laura were considering stopping by after all of the shit they talked before.

You enter the main space and glance around, looking for one of the boys. Your purse bag is heavy from the event files and you head over to set it on top of the bar while resting your aching feet. Paul, Laura, and James could not believe you’d managed to turn in your drafts and portfolio at exactly 3:57pm after being gone so long; they would eventually learn to not underestimate you. You glance around again and notice a group of people sitting in one of the newly upholstered booths quietly chatting to one another across the way. Were these the new employees?

“Already lounging on the first day of the job, Y/L/N?”

You look to your left as you shrug off your heavy overcoat and see Honcho coming around the bar, a pile of clothes in his hands.

“Of course not. I just wasn’t sure who to report to,” you say with a shrug.

“Well, you’re looking at him,” he replies with a grin. You have to stop your mouth from falling open. Of all people, it had to be him? “What? Are you disappointed?” he asks as he continues across the room to the small group. You grab your stuff and walk over after him.

“No, I just thought -”

“Thought it would be Suga? As much as you like to charge in and demand shit sweetheart, Suga is a very busy man and doesn’t have the time to appease you all the time. Sit,” he commands with a jerk of his head. You narrow your eyes at him, but obey. It’s only then that you notice the other five persons staring at you in confusion as you bickered. You swallow the urge to huff in annoyance as Honcho begins speaking.

“Thank you all for being on time. Congratulations on being hired. I’m Honcho and I’ll be your manager at Spiral. You’ll meet the rest of the guys later. These are your uniforms. We have a strict adherence uniform policy, so please do your best to be dressed in your proper attire. If you have long hair, it will be tied up or back in a bun or ponytail. Ladies, we ask that you wear red lipstick to match our colors. We’ve also given you options for bottoms: a skirt or pants.” Honcho holds up a pair of each for demonstration. “Whatever you decide to wear is up to you. We only ask that all your shoes are closed toed and we would prefer no sneakers; we’re trying to sell a vibe here. Any questions?” He doesn’t wait for anyone to speak up. “No? Great. If you could introduce yourselves to each other, that’d be fantastic.” He looks over to the boy on the other side of the booth.

“Uh, hi. My name is Micah. I’m 21 and recently graduated from college.” He tosses up a small wave before pushing his glasses further up his nose. He’s narrow shouldered and naturally blonde. Cute, if you will. They would chew him up and eat him alive if he continued to be so timid.

“Hey, I’m Luca. I’m 23 and a graduate student at Oberman.” Luca definitely fit the vibe Spiral os going for with his dark hair and dark eyes. He would have no problem wooing the numerous women who would walk through the door. A great business move in your opinion.

“Hey y’all, Savannah here. I’m 22 and working part time while in school.” Another blonde hair, blue-eyed coworker. How fun. The bubbles in champagne had nothing on her as she beams at the rest of you around the table.

“I’m Jack. I’m 24 and I guess I’m here to save up for a new car? Need some extra cash,” he finishes with a bashful grin. The girl next to you snorts. Jack is a big man with broad shoulders and you would assume he was hired as additional security based on his size. Imagine a man as big as him bringing over your strawberry mojito? Exactly.

“Giselle. 21. Law student. Loans have to pay themself off somehow right?” Luca laughs and Giselle smiles. Yuck. If you weren’t already sick of the office romance - if you could call it that - between Laura and Paul at JM, you were going to have to endure another one here? Gods be with you.

“Y/N Y/L/N. I’m 22 and an event planner,” you say nonchalantly and turn to Honcho, waiting for his next instructions.

“Not going to tell us the reason you’re here?” he smirks and you roll your eyes.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“I’d like a lot of things, Y/L/N. In fact, I can think of a few -”

“Gross,” you say, interrupting him, your face turned down in disgust. He laughs.

“Always think someone wants something from you, huh?” He shakes his head, still chuckling. “Everyone, go get changed and I’ll explain your duties to you once you get back.”

The six of you ease out of the booth, grabbing your uniforms as you head to the restrooms to get changed. As you follow Savannah and Giselle, you can’t help but scan the hallway for anything you could have missed as the memory of your second night here flashed across your mind. There had to be something that you were missing.

“I hope these uniforms are cute,” Giselle grumbles as she steps into an empty stall.

“I’m sure it’ll look great,” Savannah chirps.

You step into your own individual stall and drop your stuff on the floor. Slipping out of your heels, you step out of your slacks and tug off your blouse. You hold up the uniform shirt. It’s a plain black t-shirt with the letters in red spelling out Spiral in a spiral formation. The pants are made of a faux leather shiny material. They look tight and the sides have cut outs with strings laced in them from hip to ankle. The skirt is exactly the same. You sigh. This was really the vibe?

You dress quickly and tug on your Doc Martens. Honcho would have to wait for the lipstick. Exiting the stall, you see Savannah trying to adjust the strings on her pants while chewing her lip.

“Is it supposed to be this exposed?” she asks, checking herself out in the mirror.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” Giselle says exiting the stall and tugging down the hem of her skirt.

“So much for equality in the workplace huh?” you say. The two of them laugh.

The three of you return to the main space, Micah, Luca, and Jack already back at the booth with Honcho. Their eyes widen when they see you.

“Looking good ladies,” Honcho calls with his traditional large grin. Of course he would comment.

“Yeah, yeah. What’s next?” Giselle asks as she wiggles her way back into the booth, trying to cover her modesty.

“We’re going to take a tour of the facilities, get you acquainted with the space, and fill out the last pieces of paperwork. We’ll also have you help with some of the decorations; don’t worry, you’re going to get paid for this session. Then, we’ll see you on Friday for your shifts,” he replies. “Alright, let’s go.”

Again, he doesn’t wait for you to follow. As you’re setting your belongings down to catch up with the rest of the group, you spot Jin heading towards the bar. Just the man who you needed to see.

“Are you coming Y/N?” Savannah calls to you as the group heads up to the second level.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there!” you lie, knowing damn well you’re going to ambush Jin. You pretend to search for something in your purse as you double-check the group is far enough on the second level to not notice you not following before you head over to Jin.

“Well hello Jin,” you say as you wiggle your way onto a bar stool.

“Y/N,” he says with a chuckle. “What can I do for you?”

“Just answer a few simple questions.” you smile as you rest your chin on your palm.

“Alright,” he replied skeptically.

“Where’d you move the body?” The bottle of Aperol nearly slips out of his grip as he turns to look at you.

“Excuse me?” There’s no laughter in his voice.

“The body of the man in the bathroom,” you clarify. “How’d you get it to disappear like that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replies, busying himself with stocking up the bottles of alcohol under the shelf. He won’t meet your eyes. You know he’s lying; his body language says it all.

“Oh come on, Jin. You can tell me. It’s not like I’m going to go to the cops or anything,” you say nonchalantly. “Clearly they didn’t seem to care since they weren’t that thorough with their questions.”

“Y/N, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. You were concussed remember? Maybe you imagined whoever you’re talking about.” He glances up at you. You roll your eyes.

“Really Jin? You’re going to use the concussion line on me? You knew that I shot him; I told you that. I just want to know where you put him and why there were no reports of a missing man from the incident on the news at all,” you say with a shrug. He finally turns to face you.

“Maybe nobody reported him missing. Maybe he slipped out after you ducked behind the bar. What does it matter? Look, it was a traumatic night. For all of us. I don’t know anything about whatever or whoever you’re talking about. Hell, you probably don’t know either. Please, don’t make this working relationship anymore difficult for yourself than it already is. Just come in, keep your head down, and head out.” His hands are splayed out on the bar and the distance between you has closed significantly from when he’d started talking as he stares you down. “Worry about the things that concern you, like repaying your debt.” His tone is sharp and final. There’s no friendliness in his face either.

“Y/L/N! You’re not getting paid to sit on that pretty little ass of yours. Get up here now!” Honcho yelles down to you over the railing of the second floor balcony.

Ignoring Honcho, you cock your head and look at Jin again, thinking. “Okay Jin. Heard you loud and clear.”

You hop off the bar stool and adjust your skirt. You say nothing further as you head upstairs. It seems as though Jin would be of no help to you, but honestly, it didn’t matter. If it didn’t concern you, why was Jin lying about knowing what man you were talking about? Why had Suga tried to discreetly cover up that paper in his office the other day? What was really going on at Spiral? You’re determined to figure it, even if you have to work extra hours to do it. What happens in the dark must eventually come to light.

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

joon-ipersgirl, 2020

#bts fanfiction #bts mafia au #namjoon x reader #namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #fic: double entendre

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rockinthebeastmode · 6 years ago

Note

Hi! If I'm not late for the Angst/Fluff Prompt List thing: #22 you smell nice or #75 You deserve better. Thank you ♥

Hiya! So sorry for the lateness on this, I had the idea when you first sent it but didn’t work on it much til now. Hope you enjoy!

A/N: This is a little season one AU in Finn’s POV, including prompts from this list. The song mentioned is youtube-linked.

Distraction

Fucking hell, why couldn’t Archie break off his own plans?

Finn irritably parked his scooter and removed his helmet, shaking out his hair. He leaned down to the scooter’s mirror and fixed his fringe before frowning and rolling his eyes at his reflection.

Why am I trying to impress her? She don’t mean nought to me…

He took his helmet under his arm and headed towards the cafe, checking windows for the right place. He was sure he’d spotted her hair but the girl was wearing pink which really didn’t seem like Rae at all.

Finn sighed before reaching the door and entering, looking over the room.

He found her almost right away and he froze at the doorway for a split second before nodding his head to her and walking over.

Why was she dressed like Chloe…

He was relieved to see her leather jacket at least but she looked shaken and out of her element in the clothes. If she was surprised to see him, she hid it well enough with her worsening glare. Before he could even get out a greeting, she cut him off.

“What’re you doing here?” she groused, her body stiffening.

“Archer ain’t coming. He said to say…” he started quickly, “well, he said to say that really.” She slumped in her seat slightly and she frowned and nodded, looking straight ahead. Finn’s brow furrowed.

This wasn’t a date…right?

“Why’re you dressed like Chloe?” he asked abruptly, internally kicking himself.

“I’m not dressed like Chloe,” she responded quickly, still staring ahead. Finn felt his heart tighten at the shimmering of tears in her eyes..

He hastily sat down, setting his helmet to the side of the chair. Rae’s eyes widened before glancing at the other patrons. Finn attempted a smile when their eyes met and she crossed her arms.

“What the fuck are you doing,” she hissed, her shock turning to annoyance.

Finn suddenly wished he’d made a better first impression. Her glare felt like it could burn him alive. What the fuck was he doing?

He raised his brows, grabbing a menu from the table and waving it.

“Could use a brew,” he said casually, tamping down on his sudden nerves. Rae narrowed her eyes and looked at him suspiciously. She stayed quiet as a waitress passed, glancing around the room. He caught the scent of her perfume with the draft.

Think of something, twat!

“You smell nice,” he blurted, his ears immediately burning.

Oh, that’s great, Finny. What the fuck was that?!

“Thanks?” she said, distrust still plain on her face.

He raised his menu in front of him, hiding his reddening cheeks.

“So what are you getting?” he forced out, clearing his throat.

“I’m not hungry,” she said quickly. He lowered his menu, meeting her eyes.

“Don’t be silly,” he shoved a menu towards her, raising a challenging brow at her when she opened her mouth to argue. She snatched it with a huff and raised it, hiding him from view.

Finn bit his lip, rubbing the back of his neck and laying down his menu. He was spared from attempting to speak again when the waitress appeared next to them. He rattled off his order, his eyes on Rae’s menu. There was a beat of silence before she laid it down and looked up. Her gaze stayed on the waitress as she ordered tea and water.

When they were alone again, it was quiet as they kept their eyes anywhere but on each other. Over the speakers, something decent finally came on. Finn tapped out the beginning notes on the table, seeing Rae bobbing her head in his periphery. She mouthed the words and his eyes snapped to her, surprised.

Take me out tonight…where there’s music and there’s people and they’re young and alive…

“You know this song?” Finn asked, a bit incredulously. Rae rolled her eyes.

“I know my music,” she replied, her tone defensive. Finn nodded, his mouth twisted, surprised but impressed. She looked him over, nose scrunching a little.

“I’m sure you know as much about music as my mum,” Rae stated, smirking when Finn scoffed and leaned back in his chair. She raised a brow, her smirk widening to a devious smile.

“Of course a mardy bastard like you would be into The Smiths.”

His eyes narrowed at her and he bit back a retort. He noticed her eyes shining and his lips quirked into a semblance of a smile.

“Cheeky,” he grumbled, her smile widening further.

Jesus Christ. She was doing his head in but at least she was smiling. He reckoned he could handle some ribbing if it meant she didn’t look so goddamn sad.

Fucking Archie.

“Listen, Archer’s a dick for standing you up,” he started, wincing slightly when her face fell. “I’d have never done it if I knew it was a date,” he sighed, his brows raising earnestly. She shrugged, her lips forcing a smile but keeping her eyes low.

“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it,” she mumbled, her cheeks turning pink. He leaned forward and waited for her gaze to meet his.

“You deserve better,” he insisted, resisting a blush when her small smile turned genuine, “If I was you, I’d stick a boot right up his arse,” he continued, grinning at her answering laugh. Both their faces turned to disgust when The Smiths faded out and Backstreet Boys followed, a group of girls across the room squealing at the sound.

“D’ya think we should leave,” he joked, his palms flat on the table like he meant to stand. She shook her head but grimaced.

“Might have to–save our hearing while we can,” she quipped, wrinkling her nose. He mirrored her and laughed as he stood, offering a hand after grabbing his helmet. She waved it off, sending a worried glance at the waitress. She followed him closely when he smiled smoothly at the waitress and turned to walk to the door. When they reached his scooter, he bounced his helmet between his hands and looked at Rae.

“Do you want a ride home?” Finn asked, his voice unwittingly hopeful. She shook her head, clasping her hands.

“The walk’s not bad,” she replied, blushing lightly. He nodded and straddled the scooter. He fiddled with his helmet strap, clearing his throat. Rae spoke a second later.

“Actually…could you take me to the leisure center?”

She grinned deviously, eyes sparkling when Finn nodded with a smirk.

“C’mon, girl,” he crowed, handing her the helmet and starting the engine. She gingerly got on behind him and butterflies erupted in his gut when her arms encircled his waist. He glanced down at her entwined hands on his stomach, a grin playing on his lips.

Thanks for the ask, lovely! 😘✌🏽💜

@mmfdfanfic @eveerez @i-dream-of-emus @lilaviolet @laurielau @hey1tskat1e @tinakegg @kneekeyta @likeashootingstarfades @girl-looking-out-window @stinemarine @lurkernolonger @crystalgiddings1993 @milllott @milymargot @vivammfd @finn-nelson-for-the-win

Let me know if you want to be added/removed from the tag list and if I missed anyone :)

You can find my other fics here.

As a bonus for reading this far, here’s a sneak peek of something I’m attempting working on.

Rae entered her old stomping ground, Town Records, and took in the familiar shelves before going straight for the rock section. She perused the selection, shortly finding the album she’d come for.

“I hope you weren’t planning on buying that.”

Rae looked up at the voice, taking in the leather jacket clad boy, his blue jeans tucked into boots and a rollie behind his ear. She shook herself to respond.

“What’s wrong with Blur?” she asked, raising a brow at him. He half-shrugged, taking a step closer to her.

“There’s nothing wrong with them,” he assured, a smirk playing on his lips. He leaned in, partially getting in her space to reach.

“You’d be better off with this,” he finished, plucking a record from the shelf. Rae repressed a grin, seeing the familiar art of Oasis’ What’s the Story. She nodded seriously, taking it from him and weighing it in her hands.

“Too bad I already have it,” she said sweetly before dropping the record back into place. He narrowed his eyes at her, his mouth quirking.

“I completely forgot to introduce myself. I’m Finn,” he held out a hand to her, fixing his fringe with the other. Rae took his hand, tamping down on the butterflies in her stomach.

“It’s Rae,” she said, shaking his hand slowly. He held it a beat too long, their eyes locked.

“So, Rae...fancy a drink?”

Rae laughed incredulously, Finn’s smirk ever present.

“It’s 11 in the morning.”

“How about a Bloody Mary...or a mimosa?”

She shook her head, smiling, narrowing her eyes slyly.

“Are you even old enough to drink?”

“’Course. I’m 18, swear,” he insisted, smirk widening to a grin

“Maybe some other time,” she murmured, her cheeks darkening. She wagged her fingers in a wave and slid past him to leave. “It’s a small town...I’m sure we’ll run into each other eventually.”

#mmfd fanfic #mmfdfanfic #mmfd fanfiction #my mad fat diary fanfiction #mymadfatdiary #my mad fat diary fanfic #prompt #asks #mutuals

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