Justin Bieber/Jason McCann Imagines | Book One

Red Lipstick and Leather Jackets

In the middle of the room, there's a desk ringing around in a circle. It's made of marble and shaking vines of grey stone runs through the beige. The lights dangle from the high ceiling and they cast a yellow glow over every inch of the room.

People are standing around, leaning against tables, sitting on chairs. They hand over cheques and withdraw money, their hearts beating at a regular pace, much to Justin's disappointment.

He can see Y/N standing just outside the double doors. Her hands are drumming against the side of her thigh while she looks from left to right. He can see she has her leather jacket wrapped tightly around her body and he knows it's because her weapon is being held within.

Justin let's his eyes linger on her for a few seconds longer than he should. As though she can feel his blazing eyes burning into her back, Y/N turns and glances in through the doors. She can see him watching her and she sends him a wink, followed by her blood-red lipstick sending him a kiss. He grins evilly with both lust and adoration for his girlfriend-stroke-sidekick and winks back in her direction, hoping no one catches on to dishonest scheme the man and woman in the matching leather jackets are preparing for.

In the small pocket of his jacket, the 44 Magnum gun sits quietly, it's cool exterior burning his hand. The pad of his thumb tapped the side of it continuously as he awaited the perfect victim.

A well-built man walks by and Justin is far too experienced to know it would be a mistake to attack someone of that size, so he shifts his gaze away and manages to clock a man who seems to be trembling as he walks. Draped in a fancy suit with spectacles on the bridge of his crooked nose, the hair on the bank manager's head is thinning and it's clear to Justin that he's the one he needs.

In two seconds Justin manages to turn swiftly and pull the man into a headlock so that his arm is digging into his Adam's Apple. A shriek emits from the dry lips of Justin's helpless prey and fingernails as sharp as pins dig into his arm. As a result, Justin presses the head of the gun against the shining temple of the man.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Justin whispers before pointing the gun back to the crowd of cowering people. "Now, listen up! Things are about to get interesting!" Justin lets out a sharp laugh with a huge grin on his face. There's a mad look in his eye.

No one dares to move with the barrel of the gun staring at them, instead they raise their hands in the air or curl in up in a ball on the marble floor.

"I want all of you to sit pretty for a little while, I don't really want to hurt any of you but if you move even a muscle, I won't hesitate to blow your brains out and paint a picture on these lovely marble walls with your innards." He walks slowly into the middle of the room - the manager now sweating heavily under Justin's grip - and still wears a devilish grin on his lips. "Now, come on Mr. Bank Manager. You're gonna show me where you keep your treasure."

"W-what do you want?" the shaking mess asks hesitantly.

"Have you not caught on yet? I want all of your money. D'you think you'll be able to show me where you keep it?"

"We, we don't keep it all here, on-only a percentage-"

"And that percentage is what I'm after. Lead the way, Sir," Justin chuckles roughly into the manager's ear and it sends a shiver down his spine. His feet threaten to give way beneath him but Justin's grip forces him to stay on the balls of his feet.

The two men walk slowly around the room, Justin's gun glares at anyone that makes the slightest movement or the slightest whimper of panic.

"There's s-some in there." A shaking finger points towards the cash register behind the high marble desk. "We have tills to-"