How to Hide a Body (doppio x killer!gn!reader)

7- thats just the way the cookie crumbles

i have excuses, lies and deceitful words of every kind at my disposal that would save me from this situation, yet none of them bothered to form themselves into an actual sentence. this has happened before, far too many times. i was sure that i had grown out of this habit, though clearly ive been reduced to nothing but a mumbling child because of doppios intimidating glare. i have to quickly come up with something, else ill be found out at this very moment! its almost as if he's coaxing the answer out of me, his sweet and fruity voice being replaced by a rough and demanding one.

doppio waited patiently, my iconic skull mask in hand. my fingers trembled and fumbled with each other in search of comfort of any kind, helping me jumble my thoughts into coherent words. "doppio, i-"

"are you morte nascosta?"

his words hit me like a train, the air practically knocked out of my lungs. i prayed he asked that as a joke, maybe trying to lighten the mood a bit, but no. his face said it all. the normal, soft and warm features were hardened by anger and regret. he scowled at me in such a way that i almost found it attractive, sending spikes of adrenaline down my spine. the throbbing of my heart in my ears was the only sound i could hear besides my own internal screaming, my saliva being swallowed out of nervousness.

i put my hands up in defense, a weak smile on my face. "of course not! i dont have time to kill people!"

as much as i want to hop up from this counter, grab the nearest kitchen knife and stab him while saying: 'fool! youve figured me out, now you must die!', im currently disabled with a terribly twisted ankle, putting me in the disadvantage. 

he looked at me suspiciously, the single bang he had falling flat against his face. "i feel like youre lying to me. are you, the sweet baker at this quiet corner, actually a high-class killer? be honest with me, i dont like liars."

oh, how his scowl sends my flying into the clouds above! such a stern face for such an honest man... if i didnt know better, id think that id be falling for him. however, i do know better, and this sudden desire is most likely a heightened thirst of bloodlust for the poor mafioso. "doppio, you have to believe me! why would i hide bodies in my own bakery if i was the killer?! its unsanitary! ive only let rotting corpses in here because morte said i had to!"

my words were false. i have, in fact, hidden bodies in my bakery, though no body parts or hairs have ever gotten into my goods. professionals have standards! "morte probably only left their stuff here to frame me if someone found them! that way, they can just use my bakery as their hide out or something!"

"then why was the outfit hiding in a hole under pans and pots? if they wanted to frame you, they wouldve left it out in the open."

he had a point, if im being honest. "maybe because it wouldve been too obvious of a setup! or maybe they wanted to wait until someone like you decided to snoop around!"

doppio sighed, setting down the super-obvious evidence that would expose me with one wrong move. i have to keep up the 'sweet, innocent baker whos been set up' act, or all of my work will go to waste! he slowly stalked toward me, teasing me with his stern hazel eyes and peachy white skin. i want nothing more than to stain him with his own blood, but it would do me no good if i attempt to attack him now. 

he stopped directly in front of me, almost an inch away from my face with our noses practically touching. his breath gently fanned against my lips as he stared knives in my head, his hands pinned on the counter on either side of me and cornering my body. "(y/n). are you morte."

i swallowed my saliva, upset at  being put on the spot. "no." i replied firmly, hoping to be convincing. "im not morte. i dont have time to kill, hide bodies, and do whatever it is they do. i run a bakery for a living, and im satisfied with that. believe me, doppio. if i wanted to kill, i wouldve started a long time ago."

he seemed satisfied with my answer, backing away to pick up the outfit again and bundle it carelessly into his arms. "then you wont mind if i take this, right?"

my eye twitched. "of course not! but im sure if you do, morte might blame me then end my life! i dont want them thinking that i tampered with their things..."

"alright then," he huffed, leaning against the counter as he twirled my mask around his finger. "i have an idea that will make everyone happy. im going to take mortes disguise to headquarters, and youre going to come with me. youll stay with me and my gang for around a week. during this time, ill have someone escort you to the bakery everyday, and morte will be put under watch if they decide to reveal themselves to take back the suit. if you manage to prove that you arent them, then all will be forgiven and forgotten. sound like a plan?"

"no! i cant stay with a gang! that'd be ridiculous. you cant just come into my bakery, rampage through my stuff, claim im a murderer, then demand i go live with you for a week!"

"maybe if you were a bit cleaner and hid that hand i saw, then you wouldnt have been caught."

i grit my teeth together to the point that it was almost audible. "im telling you, im not morte nascosta!"

"ill believe you when you prove it. now, would you like help packing your things? you do have an injured ankle, after all."

i cant even process everything that is happening at the moment, my mind swirling with different scenarios of me being caught. i refuse to be exposed by a roach like him, a pest im determined to kill no matter what. you wanna play dirty, doppio? fine then, 

game on.