Outfitted to Die (L and Reader)
Warnings: Reader is employed by L, mentions of crime organizations, etc.
Anonymous Request: “ well, how do i look? ” For L
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Your fingers trembled slightly as you did your buttons upon your well ironed shirt, the faint feeling of sweat and moisture making your skin slick and unsteady. Seated in front of a vanity, you were barely aware of a camera that blinked in the corner, the light a bright, but all knowing red. Had you been younger and inexperienced, maybe you would have keeled over, vomit quickly crawling up your throat.
However, you were a professional. A few months ago–a few weeks shy of a year if you recounted correctly–you had been hand selected by a client who needed someone who was simultaneously good at their job and looked the part for a scheme that he wanted to play. L, he had called himself when you had been given a burner phone and ordered to speak to him.
The job was simple, deceptively so.
For the most part, you were supposed to infiltrate and rise through the ranks of a shady organization in order to entrap the supposed boss. Tonight, after you had made your way to the innermost circle of this organization, you were supposed to collect evidence of the head of the organization’s true identity and an admission to all if not most of his illegal dealings.
Before taking on this job, you weren't as innocent as most civilians were. No, you had your own fair share of encounters and mishaps that barely toed the line, but you had a mostly clean record. For most of your life, you made sure to live life on the down low, but sometimes, even living life on the down low wasn't the best strategy.
You had been chosen because you fit the physical characteristics of the man that you were meant to question. It had taken some time from other agents who came before you, but they grew to realize that this boss liked people who looked professional and were soft spoken. Gentle.
It had taken work to fashion you into someone with those characteristics, but your stature was meant to lull the boss into thinking that you were nothing more than an underling who was seeking a promotion within his ranks.
Today, you were going to meet the boss at the behest of this strange, unknowable L person.
As soon as you finished buttoning up your formal dress shirt, you stood from your chair and began to shrug on the blazer that you had hung up earlier. The blazer hung awkwardly from your figure, but that was to sell the idea that you were still a rookie and wet behind the ears. Reportedly, the mafia boss had grown up with near nothing: if he were to see you now, innocent eyes and ill-fitting dress, he might be swayed to let his guard down sooner.
With your outfit assembled, you turned around and faced the camera.
It had been a while since you were first hired by L, but you had never seen his face. Furthermore, when you heard him via burner phone, there was a voice changer that disguised his true voice from you. Common sense told you that it was highly likely that you would never see whoever was on the other end of the surveillance camera, but you also knew that your curiosity would never fade.
Tonight, when you were the closest to knocking on death's door, would L grant you a reprieve?
A kind, parting word?
A glimpse into how big your paycheck would be if you survived?
"You look nervous." Even if he removed the voice changer, past experience told you that L only said that as a statement of fact. You were not one to judge, but it was getting more and more obvious with each interaction you had with your employer, that he wasn't one for human emotion or connection.
You took a deep breath, knowing full well that even if you were to look away from the main camera that was placed in your room, there were probably at least a few others hidden in this hotel room. Try as you might, you could never hide your face or conceal your true emotions.
"You're not the one trying to seduce a crime boss." You said this out loud, almost louder than what you had intended. Again, if you had decided to speak softly, any and all hidden microphones would have probably picked up on your whispering.
Truly, all of this was a farce.
L spoke again, a hint of teasing in his distorted voice. "It's more of an interrogation and even so, you knew the risks before taking this job."
You wanted to call out L for being a liar, but you couldn't. For all of your employer's faults, he made it quite clear what your role was in the grand scheme of things. You were replaceable, simply a cog in the machine. If you messed up, there was no one to bail you out. You could only hope that months of preparation and infiltration would be enough. After this, you would be rewarded with a hefty sum that would help you pay rent for the next few months or help you disappear should the plan go south.
Sighing, you slouched into your blazer, the warmth from the cloth choking you and heightening your anxiety. “Right, I did.” If only you had the courage and the smarts to back out. It was far from too late, your fate had been sealed the instant L had told you that you were assigned to a job.
You twiddled with the lapels of your blazer for a moment before you faced the camera again.
“Well, how do I look?” You couldn’t help but venture to ask, faux bashfulness decorating your voice. “Good enough for a funeral?”
For a second, you heard the strangest sound to ever come from your employer. It was so distorted and alien to your ears, you feared that maybe you were missing out on vital information. Had the microphones malfunctioned on his end? It wasn’t until you heard his assent that you realized that it was laughter.
So, it seemed like you were mistaken: he could emote like you.
“Good enough for an interrogation,” he replied. “If you do die, I’ll be sure to outfit you in a better fitting suit.”
The blinking from the camera died, but you were far from fooled. There were still hidden cameras throughout the room and your clothes that you were given probably had something sewn into them as well. The dead camera was simply a dismissal.
You walked to the exit and turned the knob.
If you made it out alive, you made a promise to sell this outfit as soon as possible.
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DEATH NOTE MASTERLIST