#i'd rather be shot in the head than knifed in the stomach and left on the pavement to bleed out etc etc

[lilyrizzy]

this is maybe a controversial opinion but if they're going to fire daniel, can they just do it and stop dangling it over him like a rotten carrot???

[charnelhouse]

The empty bar they've taken momentary refuge in roughly translates to 'The Den'. Which is oddly fitting as Graves' gaze drops to the woman on the floor in front of him. Red Fox.

Beaten and bloody, one wound on her side concerning him a little as he watches the blood still sluggishly ooze from it, he didn't want her dead. Not yet.

Fox. He murmurs her codename and she finally looks at him. Hurt, betrayed, but still so stubborn. That fire in her eyes full of anger and hate and promising a bloody revenge if she got the chance.

The belt he'd looped around her throat in a pale imitation of a leash was more a tactic to humilate her rather than restrain her. A woman on a team of men twice her size, it didnt take a genuis to know where exactly where to push to hurt her, to grind her down. He felt a little dirty to do so but he wasn't go to deny the little pulse of sadistic pleasure he got for doing it either.

He crouches down in front of her, his stomach twisting with a small burst of pleasure as she flinches. "So which one you fucking hmm?"

The question seems to take her off guard, surprise flicking across her face before she scowls. "Fuck you."

"Sweet of you to offer, maybe later." He grins, her stubbornness is starting to grate, even as he's reluctantly impressed. "The Captain? You getting out of ops by spreading those legs?" He waits for her to respond but she doesn't, keeping her gaze focused on the floor. "No? Then the big guy, Ghost? Doubt a little thing like you could take him but fuck,-" he clicks his teeth. "I'd love to see it."

She doesn't respond and he's reluctantly impressed with her control.

"It's the scot right? Always thought he was a little too touchy with you. Or are you the team whore?" She tenses and Graves holds back a smile, it's not that reaction he was hoping for but it was still a reaction. "That why such a pretty little thing like you is on the team? You their stress relief?"

She grinds her teeth but doesn't take his bait and he stands with a sigh. "The only female on the team got kidnapped, kinda cliche don't you think? They left you on your own and you immediately got taken out," He makes a show of thinking, tilting his head and tapping a finger on his chin as he regards her. "Do they do that often?"

She scowls at the floor, and he waits. She doesn't disappoint him. She glares up at him, hissing the words through her teeth. "Do what?"

"Carry you. Although you being here is probably giving them a good shot of getting out of this alive." He's lying and it pains him a little to do so. He's seen what she can do, she's tough, smart, violent. A damn good soldier. He shoves the sudden feeling of admiration to the side. "Are you hoping they'll come for you? Rescue the little damsel in distress?"

That triggers something in her, she goes rigid, spine going ramrod straight as she lifts her head to stare at him. Her eyes are cold, full of determination and the threat of violence and his cock twitches, he's suddenly incredibly jealous of that fucking Scot. Her fingers flex against the floor and she leans forward until the makeshift leash pulls tight against her throat. "I don't need rescuing," she speaks calmly, and he feels a little frission of alarm go down his spine. "I'm going to kill you myself."

I meannnnn this is BRILLIANT, and I want more. I read it yesterday and had to take a damn BEAT because I needed to know HOW the guys feel or how they'd react when they find her like this and how Price probably IS getting to her even if she refuses to show it because he's sticking a knife in every single soft-tissue insecurity she has.

She'll kill him well tho.

I LVOED THIS SOFJDSKJFDSJFKJSDLKFJ

[illyaana]

Hey... Could you maybe... Could you make a oneshot consisting of Bakugou's older sibling reader (I'd prefer it to be gender neutral with a more masculine style, however you prefer) x Midnight? 🥺🥺 I love her so much and Horikoshi did her dirty. You can do whatever oneshot that you want/comes to mind, I just want something fluffy. Thank you UwU

Udk how much I squealed getting this as my first ask!

(also whoever you are you made my day/week/month (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ)

I agree, Horikoshi did her dirty. She had some moments but that was IT. I tried my best, hope you like it!!

(it's more of a you being a hero and being in a relationship with Nemuri rather than a one-shot surrounding your relationship, but there's a bunch of fluffy stuff at the end, so gehe-)

Tags: Midnight x Bakugo's Older Sibling! Reader, Binaural, Fluff, Minor Cursing, Mentions of Blood

Your Quirk: Liquid Maker - You conjure a liquid in your hands (smtg like sweat) when you want to and it can become anything. Name it, you got it hun <3

Synopsis: You are a hero (obviously gehe-) and you were catching some villains. Suddenly a huge explosion came from the middle of Musutafu and you headed straight to the crime scene.

Word Count: 2163

SFW Masterlist ◍ Navigation ◍ Requesting Guidelines ◍ Ask here!

You woke up to the sweet smell of smoke coming from the living room. Groaning, you got off your comfortable bed and raced to the living room to stop Bakugo from his daily antics.

"You really got to stop doing this in the morning, Katsuki," you told the younger male, "It's literally," you looked at the clock, "8 am in the morning and my half-asleep self could've gotten hurt stopping you from breaking all hell loose."

Katsuki scoffed while looking at you. "Why aren't you at work yet? As you said, it's already 8 am."

"Later shift today! I only start at around 10 am."

"Wow, aren't you lucky?" Katsuki said as he walked towards the stove, "I'm making pancakes, but I won't make even one for you until you go bathe. You look disgusting."

"Okay, okay." You say, raising your hands and rushing to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

After bathing, you head back into your room and began to wear your skin-tight hero suit.

You groaned slightly as you slowly pulled the form-fitting clothing up your body.

"I swear to God this isn't getting easier."

"You are literally a fatass, so I'm not surprised," you heard Katsuki scream from the kitchen, "I pity Midnight. The fact she needs to be around a literal piece of garbage who doesn't even look good."

"At least I have someone, unlike your childish ass."

"I am a child," he retorted.

You sigh as you open your room door and head back to the kitchen.

"One day, you're going to wish you were nicer to the people around you."

"Maybe," Katsuki said while passing you a plate with a stack of three pancakes, "...but I am pretty sure you aren't going to be one of them, judging by how much you baby me."

"But you are a child! Didn't you say so a few minutes ago?" you say as you pinch his cheeks, earning a growl from him, "Woah, calm down dog."

"Shut up and eat, fatass."

You chuckle at his words and proceed with the order given by your younger brother.

You loved getting later shifts on Fridays. These were the quieter days in the Bakugo household. Mom usually took her extra days off on Fridays like today, extending her weekend. Dad left for work earlier on Fridays but he'd always buy some spicy thing for Katsuki and you to have in the morning. Something to wish us a good day, I presume. And to top it all off, you and Katsuki would have these "sibling" moments, which mostly consisted of you annoying him to the point he'd lash out at you.

"You're a really good cook, Katsuki. These pancakes keep getting better!" you compliment the 10-year old.

And there it was: you entertainment of the day - Katsuki trying to say thank you but failing miserably thanks to his own pride as a "man".

"T-than- that's obvious, isn't it?" he ends, a blush present on his face, "I make pancakes every single time you have a later shift because you like it. If I'm getting better, that means you've been getting more later shifts. That means you've been slacking off, you stupid Pro Hero!"

"...how did you even get to that idea?"

After calming down a raging Katsuki, you put on your gear and head to the entrance of the house.

"Have a good day at school, Katsuki. Don't do anything you'd regret," you playfully warn him before leaving the house.

The streets of Musutafu were usually peaceful. Ever since All Might became the Symbol of Peace, the crime rates have dropped extensively. Yet, there are always one or two little naughty kids that wanted to play with their quirks - or in simpler terms, people who act like kids and try to do minor crimes using their quirks.

Using the liquid formed in your hands, you aimed at the legs of the two running males in black and wrap their legs together. Within a second, the liquid instantly formed into a rope and bounded their legs together, forcing them to fall face down.

"You both gave me a good morning run, thanks for that!" You say as you place two handcuffs around their wrists, "But you should seriously think about another hobby besides stealing."

From afar, you heard a loud boom coming from the middle of Musutafu.

In an instant, you formed another bunch of rope and tied the two males around their waist and pushed them to the corner of a building.

"Run away and you'll get more than just jail time," you say as you rush off to the scene.

The minute you reached the scene, your eyes widened in fear.

Endeavor was the reason behind the whole catastrophe here?

From behind, you felt a pair of soft hands touch your shoulder.

"I know what it looks like, but trust me it isn't," Nemuri started, "A villain that has a mind control quirk is controlling Endeavor from a distance. I've been trying to locate them, but no luck."

You smiled, looking at your girlfriend.

"You managed to get all of that in a few seconds?" you ask, amazed, "I got a good one, didn't I?"

You felt Midnight pinch you from behind.

"As much as I appreciate the compliment, now isn't the time to flirt with me," the female hero said.

You nod, washing away the playful smile.

"You get all the civilians out of here and contact the heroes through the network. I'll try to get him down and knock him out," you say. Nemuri nodded and began to gather the civilians away from the scene.

"Now," you turn to face the 2nd best hero, "How does one take down someone much, much more stronger than you?"

You slowly gathered your liquid in your palm, allowing the fluid to grow in volume.

"You defeating Endeavor would be a sight to behold, not going to lie here," the villain said through Endeavor, "But I am willing to test out that theory."

You lunged at the fire user while creating a fire-resistant rope to tie him down in your hand. In the other, you managed to conjure a Haladie sword - a sword you've trained with ever since your days in UA.

Using the sword, you managed to propel yourself above Endeavor and cut his back. Using the momentum you built, you used both your feet to hit the back of Endeavor's knees, forcing him to kneel.

You immediately stabbed his dominant hand, preventing him from reacting quickly.

With a snap, the Haladie sword transformed back into its liquid state and wrapped around his left hand.

"I was never planning on defeating Endeavor but merely securing him, dear villain of mine," you say as you transformed the liquid around his left hand into a quick-cancelling glove, "It’s one point for Y/N, right now. No point for little Mindy over here."

You began to build up more liquid in your hands to hopefully form another Haladie sword or at least a blade.

The controlled Endeavor began to get up slowly and turn to face you.

"I didn't peg you to be a dumb one, Y/N."

You felt a blade pierce through your stomach.

A civilian sobbed as they pressed the blade deeper into your body, your blood dripping onto their office coat.

"I can't believe you let your guard down so easily. It was your fault to assume I could only control one person at a time, little hero," the controlled civilian said midst crying.

"And that will be your downfall," Endeavor said as small flames began to grow from the palm of his right hand.

The knife that once was in your body was violently ripped out of your body by the controlled civilian and then used to kill themself by piercing their heart.

Tears fell as you saw the now lifeless male bleed to death right beside you.

"Oh don't worry," Endeavor said, "I'll make sure you also go with him, too. That small wound won't kill you, I know that."

You saw Midnight running towards you along with Eraserhead and All Might.

"You know, I always pictured you crying over a dead Nemuri Kayama whilst bleeding from your stomach, have you?"

Your eyes widened at the statement.

There was no way you were going to let that villain kill her.

"Eraser," you screamed, "Erase his quirk and get Midnight out of here."

'Please don't fail on my now, buddy,' you told to your body as you ran towards Endeavor, 'You still have to live for the people you love.'

You quickly formed another Haladie sword and vaulted from the floor towards Endeavor.

You managed to grab the hand aimed at Midnight and pushed it towards you. Using the remainder fluid you had, you formed another quirk-cancelling glove on Endeavor's right hand.

You could hear a sigh of relief from both Nemuri and Shouta, making you smile.

From afar, you heard All Might saying that he caught the villain that was controlling both the civilian and Endeavor. You were shocked when you heard the number one hero's laugh of victory.

You were amazed at the skill the male had.

A villain that took two people to search for was found by him in a few minutes.

Soon, the wound formed by the dead civilian began to take effect as your vision became hazy.

Before you could lose consciousness, you felt Nemuri's hands wrap around you, catching you before you fell.

When you woke up, you heard the sound of hospital monitors beeping. You felt a small hand gripping around your left hand.

"Why did you let them stab you, idiot," you heard your younger brother say, "Don't go teaching me a lesson with your death - it won't work."

You chuckled, looking at the younger blonde. "If this doesn't work on you, I don't know what will."

Katsuki began to sob on your blanket while gripping on the four fingers his small fingers could grip.

"It's okay, Kacchan," you saw a green-haired boy patting his back, "He is here and he is alive. That is all that matters, okay?"

You smiled, looking at the greenette.

"What's your name?" you ask him.

"I'm Izuku Midoriya! I'm friends with Kacchan," he says with a beaming smile.

"Kacchan, huh?" you tease, "You are really close friends with Kacchan, aren't you?"

Before Izuku could reply, you felt Katsuki pinch your leg.

"I don't even know why I care for you, you fatass."

"Oh, how you wound me," you feign sadness as the ten-year-olds left your room.

You smile at the sight of the greenette consoling your brother as they walk out of the room.

You look up to the ceiling, sighing.

"You are a bit too young to be sighing so loudly, Y/N," Nemuri said as she slowly opened the door, "I saw what you did there. Don't tease Katsuki so often, he is quite mature for his age, you know?"

You smile, looking at Nemuri with her hands on her waist.

"He's growing too fast. I need small moments like this to remember how innocent he is before he becomes the raging little twit I know he'll become."

"Woah, Woah, Woah," she says, laughing, " 'Raging little twit'? You really are a bad brother."

You begin laughing, "I have to be the playful one or else the Bakugo's would be a family of three brooding people and one peaceful man."

"True."

Your eyes widen.

"You aren't supposed to agree, you know?"

"My mother taught me not to lie," she says, smiling.

"Well, white lies aren't bad."

She sits beside you and holds your hand. Tears slowly escape her eyes as she looks at you.

"You are okay, right?" She says, sniffling.

You slowly wipe off her tears and put the palm of your hand on her cheek.

"I'm fine, Nemuri."

You slowly move towards her and place a kiss on her forehead.

You pat the empty side of your bed, "Want to join me?"

She slowly nods as she walks to the empty side of the bed and gets in. Her legs immediately wrap around your left leg as she places her head against your chest. Her left hand extends around your waist and hugs you.

"What are you, a koala?" you joke.

"What can I say? You are a comfy tree."

"Well, I am glad to be of service."

Soon, Nemuri goes to sleep. Soft snores can be heard from her as she rubs her head against your chest.

'The koala became a cat,' you thought to yourself.

Your right-hand goes to the top of her head, ruffling her hair.

"I love you so much, Nemuri Kayama. I always will. If I had to, I would gladly lay my life down so that you'd be safe. I know you're asleep and probably can't hear this, but you are the most important thing in my life - don't forget that," you tell her sleeping figure as you fall asleep.

[impala1967dwinchester]

Jensen Ackles: Tired

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Wife!Reader, Jared x Gene

Pov: Jensen 

warnings; Panic, anxiety, guilt, collapsing, more panic, fluff, a tiny bit of angst, Swearing

Summary(request): Ouuuuh I'm sooo happy that you write for Jensen!!! Can I pleaaase request a one shot of Jensen x wife reader in which she collapses because she's been exhausted taking care of the kids and he feels guilty that he didn't notice and he's determined to help more ?? I'm so sorry if this sound dumb. No pressure if you don't wanna write it.

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N- This wasn’t a stupid idea, I know that this had taken me a bit of time to write, so I’m sorry about that. I absolutely love this idea. Thank you for requesting/anon it.  (Your eye color: Y/E/C) @firefly-graphics for divider

Jensen masterlsit: 

Main Masterlsit

"Kids I need you two to sit in the living room while mommy cleans the kitchen." I heard Y/n say from my upstairs office. I was currently working on my second album for Radio company.

I had been up here for the past couple of days. Once or twice a day I'd hear Y/n get louder than normal, saying something to the twins about how they needed to stop fighting with each other.

Our twins, Ada and Jay. A boy and girl. They were bundles of energy, they run up and down the halls. There little feet leaving loud echos around our home.

"Yes, mommy will turn on Disney. You want to watch frozen two again?" I heard Y/n say. This was the first time that it sounded like the two littles had agreed on something.

A moment later I heard the soft intro music of frozen two. I smiled and continued to work on the new lyrics for our second album. We had promised our fans that the album would be out relatively soon. By soon I mean within a month's time.

I needed a break, I wasn't able to get anything done on an empty stomach. So I made my way down our elegant stairs. I saw the littles entranced by the tv, they didn't even notice me come down the stairs.

I let them be through thinking about how long it had taken for Y/n to get them to calm down. Mostly how much it had taken Y/n to get them to be quiet.

I shuffled my way into the kitchen,, passing behind Y/n as she cleaned a day's worth of dishes. I wrapped my hands around her mid-section, whispering in her ear, "Hey my love." She leaned into my touch and took a rather deep breath closing her eyes.

"Hey honey, what are you doing down here? I thought you had your album to work on." She said trying to unscrew one of Ada's sippy cups. I took the cup out of her hands and unscrewed the top with ease.

"I needed some food in my belly. Looks like you've got those kids preoccupied."I said release her from my hug and slipping a look into the fridge.

"Yeah I do, they've got me going in circles." She said finishing up by putting the cleanish dishes into the dishwasher. She turned to face me, motioning me to grab her water bottle from the fridge.

"I can see that, but hey remember you've got it. If you need anything come get me okay." I said giving her a chat kiss and walking back through the kitchen up the stairs.

I heard the music for the ending of frozen two come and go, but I could smell the start of dinner. I was done with working on the new album, so I changed into some more comfy pants, and went downstairs.

The twins were asleep on the large couch in our living room. Y/n was humming to a song in her head, I stood there and watched her. She danced around, cutting up peppers and messing with the oven for chicken.

She turned around and let out a loud shriek, "Jensen, you scared me!" She said with a huff. "You should be more careful, hell I could have thrown this knife at you." She said setting the knife down.

While I was staring at my beautiful wife I noticed a few things. Her skin seemed dull, I could see the bags under her eyes, her dancing wasn't a full-motion like it usually is. She stops and takes deeper breaths.

"Are you feeling okay?" I asked her out randomly. Giving me an odd look, a raised eyebrow. "Yeah, I'm feeling fine. Why?" Y/n asked me. "I was just wondering, that's all baby," I said kissing her cheek.

"I'm going to wake up the twins okay, if not they'll be up till five in the morning," I said, smacking her ass playful. The roll of Y/n eyes was the last thing I saw before I made my way into the living room.

"Ada, Jay. It's time to wake up." I said softly, Ada stirred in her sleep and Jay didn't even move. Ada slept like my wife does. Very softly, now on the other hand Jay sleep like a rock like his father.

"Ada, it's time to get up. Mommy is making dinner, you want dinner?' i said coaxing her to wake up. Jay still laid asleep, Ada's eyes fluttered open, "Dada!" "Hey baby girl, did you sleep good?" I asked her, hugging her.

She wrapped her small arms around my neck and looked at me with a wide smile, "Yes I sep good." She said, she giggled. A giggled much too Y/n's. "Do you want to help me get your brother up?" I asked Ada.

"Do we have to wake him up." She said a frown replacing her smile. "Yes, I'm afraid we have to," I said smiling. "Fine Daddy."She said unwrapping her arms from my neck and climbing next to her brother, she patted his shoulder.

"Jay, brotha daddy says you gotta wake up now." She said going from patting his shoulder to poking his side. "JAY! WAKE UP!" Ada screamed at the top of her, "Hey, hey there's no need to scream at him, baby." I said interru[ting her screaming session.

"Here let daddy show you how to wake him up," I said with raised eyebrows. "Jay, mommy says you'll get dessert if you wake up and eat all your dinner," I said rubbing small circles into Jay's back.

He opened his eyes and looked back and his sister and me. His eyes reminded me of his mother's Y/E/C eyes. Ada's eyes were the color of him, dark forest green, and when we went outside to play or to the beach, Ada's eyes turned to a light green something resembling an emerald.

All of a sudden my thoughts were interrupted when I heard the crash of something from in the kitchen. I rushed to go see, worried about Y/n. When I rushed in she was collapsed on the floor. "Y/n, honey," I said walking over to her. "Y/n... Y/n are you okay?" I questioned.

"Mommy?" I heard Ada and Jay say at the same time. I needed to make a quick decision. So I called Jared. Telling him that Y/n had collapsed on the floor.

Moments later I heard the door open and shut. "unc Jar." I heard Jay say, then I heard the click on heels behind him he had brought Gen with him. "Jared let me take the kids, you go help Jensen and get Y/n some washcloths a glass of cold water. Okay," Gene said.

"Hey, Auntie." Heard Ada say. "Come on kiddos let's go get some stuff from y'alls bedroom." I heard. Trying to keep Y/n's head elevated. "Hey, Jensen, What happened?" He asked. "I don't know Jar, One minute she was fine and she was cooking dinner, and next I heard a crash while getting Ada and Jay up."

"Jensen just breathe." He said, " How can I relax Jared, my wife.. my wife is lying unconscious on the kitchen floor. And I don't know how to help her." I said running a hand down my face.

"Jensen. Stop take a breath. Got get some washes clothes to get them cold as you get them. And come back here, okay." he said patting my shoulder.

I ran up the stairs passing the twins' rooms, gene gave me a sympathetic smile and was packing the twins' bags. It's a good idea take the kids to your house for a moment. I ran into our closet grabbing far too many, running back down the stairs.

Missing a few at the bottom almost tripping over my large stature. "Get them wet we're going to put some on her forehead, neck, and wrist. Get that glass of water too." Jared said.

Eventually, after Gene had taken the kiddos to their home, Jared and I moved Y/n to the couch. She started to wake up, her eye fluttering open. It was more than too nice to see her Y/E/C. Jared excused himself telling me that they would keep the kids for the rest of the night.

"We'll keep the kiddos, give Ada, Jay, Shep, and Odette a surprise a sleepover," he said patting my shoulder then left. We sat in silence for a moment.

"Wait?" Y/n said first. "I asked if you were okay," I said. "Yeah you did and I wasn't lying." She said, "So, why did this happen then, Y/n?" I questioned her.

Again we sat in silence, "Because Jensen, I feel like I'm doing this all by myself, you're so sucked into finishing the damn album you've left your wife, your wife to deal with two toddlers." She said arguing with me. She took the washcloths off her forehead and wrists throwing them onto the coffee table.

I hadn't realized how much weight I had put on her shoulders. I guess I kind of just expected that she could take it. "I... I guess I didn't realize that I was doing that." I said.

"No, you didn't. You know what just forget it, okay Jensen. I need to finish dinner and then get Ada and Jay from Gene." She said. Truing to get up, but ending up bouncing back onto the couch.

"No, look. I know that I was forgetting about things. And forgetting that you can't take this all by yourself. Yes, you're my wife and you mean the world to me. You don't realize the amount of panic that went through me when I heard that crash. I understand now.' I said

The tears starting to come out. 'You don't know what I would do without you. I wouldn't know what to do without my wife, my beautiful, strong, amazing wife. I'm sorry I fucked up. Please, Let me fix it." I said begging with my wife now.

She stared at me, reaching her hand over to my face wiping the stray tears that had fallen while I was talking away. "Okay, I guess we both fucked up. I didn't say anything to you, and you wouldn't have been able to know." She said scouting closer to me, her hands staying on my cheek.

With her warm hand still on my cheek, I leaned into the touch. "I'll finish dinner, you, Y/n you relax please." I said pleading. She shook her head, "How about we do it together." Y/n offered I smiled and grabbed her hand bringing her up from the couch. "I like that idea," I said.

Going in for a much-needed kiss. She meddled into it. "We can take advantage of the littles being at Gene, and Jared." She whispered against my lips. "Naughty," I whispered back. "Dinner first though," I said stripping the moment of its erotic nature.

"Okay, baby But you've got dish duty for a while," Y/n said her hand sliding up and down my chest.

Completed On: 04/25/2021

Taglist: @akshi8278 @wonderfulworldofwinchester @deanswaywardgirl @hit-meup69 @fofisstilinski @doctorlilo

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

The Best Things ~ J.V. (part 12)

A/n: I would like to apologize for not marking warnings on each part like I should have been. I get too excited to post and skip over them on accident. I’ll do my best to add them from here on! Also, I was adding the warnings as I wrote but then they didn’t save so I tried to remember them as best I could. If I forgot anything, I sincerely apologize.

Warnings: Recounting past trauma (physical abuse, homophobia), explicit talk of death, badly handling others’ trauma, light smut (foreplay: slapping, choking, degradation, daddy kink, handcuff restraining, brat/dom dynamic, punishing, teasing, masterbation)

Word Count: 5200+

MASTERLIST

The air was so thick with tension that a knife could have cut through it. No matter how much Harley was fighting his instincts to lounge and be himself - the self Jeremiah was used to, at the very least - he felt like he had to be the self he used to be. The one Bruce was expecting. Jeremiah knew Harley was trying too hard, and Jeremiah was far too easy to read - which meant that Bruce knew too. So Harley sat there trying to behave and Bruce sat there brimming with suspicion and pain and hesitation and Jeremiah sat between the two boys, wishing this had never happened and he could just escape the two brothers who seemed seconds from either running or fighting.

Echo, as if sent from God, walked into the room with a pitcher of water. They were at Jeremiah's instead of Wayne manor as Harley had absolutely no intention of being back there or anywhere near Alfred. The butler was far too good at accepting change, which meant that the man might pick up on the fact that Harley was no longer Y/n and the whole thing would fall apart. Honestly, it seemed like so much work. Harley wasn't sure why this plan was so important but Jerome was feeding off of it so Harley did it anyway because he'd said he would. If this is where Jerome lead, Harley would follow.

"So," Echo cut into the silence as she walked around pouring drinks. "How is everyone this evening?"

Harley smiled at her, amused. She was poorly hiding a sort of awkward expression that was dashed with a little humor. She was mocking them in her head; Harley could almost hear what she was thinking. A bunch of dumb boys sitting around a table unable to swallow their pride. Idiots. "Oh you know," Harley mumbled casually, shrugging. "Indulging." He motioned to his food but his words were obviously directed at the ambiance.

"Having a good time?" Echo asked.

"Not at all," Harley immediately answered with the same casual, chipper tone. Jeremiah choked on his drink as he laughed at the exchange. The humor delivered saltiness in Harley's voice and the passive aggressive mocking in Echo's had always been an exchange that could make Jeremiah chuckle at least a little. Echo and Harley were very good at banter and it lightened the mood significantly every time they went at it. After all, it was just in good fun. Bruce seemed to relax as a smile curled everyone else's lips. "So... Harley." His lips seemed to want to reject the name.

Harley's smile dropped. Hearing Bruce call him that made him uncomfortable. Not just because he was nervous about Bruce not calling him Y/n as he had all up until this point but because he had cut Bruce out of this new life very purposefully and now... he was in it anyway. "Yes?"

Echo sighed and left the room as she sensed Harley jerk back, even with her attempt to loosen everyone up. Jeremiah focused on his food. Bruce looked at Harley but Harley did not look back, instead choosing to stare at the door Echo had gone through. "Why Harley?"

That was an easy question. "When I was in Arkham, a few of the guards used to beat the shit out of me every single day to try and convince me to be straight." Harley looked Bruce in the eye when he said this, completely calm. He had long since gotten over it. "They even put me in isolation to keep me away from people who might protect me or care about me."

"Jerome." Bruce didn't form it like a question.

Harley answered anyway. "Yes. But see this is a smaller world than everyone thought and my therapist, Harleen Quinzel, became my friend instead. She's like me, but for girls." Bruce nodded, accepting that. "They couldn't kill me without having to mark me as a loss. That and they'd have lost their punching bag. To teach me a lesson, they killed her. And then made sure the TV that was never supposed to be on the news would be on the news, on just the channel and at just the time that would allow me to see her bloody, bruised, cold, dead body strewn out for the public to see. And no one gave a single shit because no crimes in Gotham get solved unless someone important is involved. And even then- well, you know first hand."

Bruce's expression grew very dark. "I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't," Harley purred, still eating as if he was talking about the weather.

Jeremiah has stopped eating. "People are really like that?" His voice was small and his eyes moved to Bruce, his hands tightening around his silverware as if picturing Bruce's face cold and dead and staring at him through a TV. Bruce felt his eyes and looked back to Jeremiah, but the red head averted his gaze to Harley instead. "I mean, people really act like that just because of... how someone loves?"

Harley nodded, swallowing the food in his mouth. It tasted like sand but he kept eating it. It made him feel powerful to while the others in the room had forgotten their food altogether. Although... Perhaps he hadn't chewed it as well as he thought because it felt as if it had gotten stuck somewhere along the way. A thick lump had lodged for a second and a sick feeling had settled in the bottom of his stomach. He hadn't thought about that image in so long... the daily bearings and the isolation and the one ray of light he'd gotten being extinguished and displayed because he had dared to be himself and therefore allowed her to do the same. Because they were different than how most people were.

"Do you know who did it?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah." That didn't seem to be the answer Bruce was expecting. "This isn't great table conversation," Harley eased, changing the subject. "But that is why I go by Harley. Do you like it?"

Bruce shrugged. "Do you still go by Wayne?"

Internally, Harley sighed. "Harley Quinn."

At that Bruce nodded. "You're not coming back are you?"

Harley laughed dryly. "You're not very good at casual, light conversation are you Brucey?"

"Don't call me that," Bruce snapped, body going stiff.

Rolling his eyes, Harley sat back in his seat. "Why not?" It came out harsher than Harley had meant it.

Meeting hostility with hostility, Bruce got angry as well. "Because that's what Jerome called me, and after how many times he tried to kill me it's not a name I like."

"Get over it," Harley sneered. "It's just a name and we're in Gotham. Trauma is kind of a part of life here. Adapt or get trampled."

Bruce jerked back. "Get over it? Since when are you...?" He trailed off, as if hesitating, before his face set and he finished his sentence with a much harder tone. "Like Jerome."

Harley felt his knuckles turn white. "Stop saying that like it's a bad thing." "It is!" Bruce hissed.

Harley shot to his feet, dropping his silverware on the table. Jeremiah flinched but Harley didn't notice. Bruce did. "Look, Jerome is fucked up and dark and broken. He doesn't have a grip on reality or know how to human because he wasn't fucking treated like one. He killed people. He was crazy and insane and unhinged and dangerous. Yeah! You know what else he was? He was understanding and accepting. He got why people lived their lives differently than he did and didn't really judge anyone, ever. He thought they were boring and chose to live differently, sure, but he lived to make people laugh and have fun. Maybe his sense of fun was fucked up, but he genuinely just wanted people to laugh along with him for once. He didn't hide who he really was. He wasn't ashamed. He didn't shun me and shove me in a corner and try to change me. He accepted who I was. He CELEBRATED me. I'd rather be with him than at this stupid fucking dinner or anywhere near you because I'm not some poor gay boy who needs saving. I'm strong and I matter and I FINALLY love myself, and you won't ever take that away from me because you see self respect and see Jerome because no one taught you that you are more important than everyone else. I refuse to sit here and let you try and turn me into some pathetic whiny brooding mess who's never happy because my priorities are fucked up. I won't be you. That isn't my goal anymore."

The room was dead quiet. For a long time, no one said anything. The brothers just stared each other down until Bruce shook his head. "Perhaps this was a bad idea."

Jeremiah pinched the bridge of his nose. "You guys are idiots." The other two in the room looked at the red head with shock. "My brother is dead, and honest to god it's a relief that he is. He's out of my life and I'm safe from him. I never had the chance to have a real relationship with him. I used to read the newspaper about your family and think that you guys were some kind of dream. Two brothers that loved each other despite everything and parents that were like... actually good people on any level." He sighed. "Obviously I was wrong. You're too busy trying to make him how he used to be." This he directed at Bruce. "And you're too busy hurting and bottling up your emotions and pushing everyone away to let anyone care about you or see the real you." This was for Harley. Jeremiah didn't stop when both other boys went to speak though. "Just shut up and make this work because you guys are the only true family you each have left. Harley, you grew up and I have to say you wear your changes very well. You're happier and sturdier and if someone isn't happy about that then they're insane. Right, Bruce?"

The Wayne boy hesitated before giving in. "Yeah. I am happy for you. I should have started with that. I just... I'm scared for you."

"Why?" Harley demanded, exasperated.

"Because I don't want you to become Jerome. I don't want you to end up like that. I don't want you to be some criminal, when you used to be the best person I knew. You said your life goal used to be being like me? No. I wanted so much to be like you. You couldn't speak about a huge part of you, but you accepted it with the knowledge no one else ever would. I refused to even look at the fact that I'm attracted to guys until you and Jerome got together and then..." his eyes shot to Jeremiah and then back. "Things happened and- and you were always so bright and happy and free. Like a bird in flight or- something." He shook his head. "You were inspiring, Y/n. Seeing you like this... it looks like you've been broken. And I just want to bring back that light you had before. When you seemed so much happier."

"I'm not broken." Harley looked at the boy who was supposed to be his brother. The boy who used to be his best friend before one lie after another had pulled them further and further apart until they were on completely opposite sides. Secrets had torn their relationship up into so many little bits it could never be repaired. They were just too different now. "I'm not lost or struggling. I'm just not... sitting there and pretending all the bad things aren't happening. The friends I have now actually like and respect me as a person, not just because I'm Y/n Wayne. I'm myself, proudly, and I wear my experiences as a reminder of what I can endure. Things hurt less. What you see isn't some poor boy waiting to be saved. It's darkness. And maybe that scares you, because you're used to hiding your darkness. But darkness, Bruce, isn't a bad thing. Darkness is what makes us who we are. Like everything it can be used as a weapon, but Darkness itself isn't dangerous. What you do with it is."

Bruce considered that for a long time. "That... is a good point."

Jeremiah released a breath. "So... truce?" The boys looked at each other before shrugging. Harley sat back down. Jeremiah seemed pleased. "Okay, now lets talk about something a little more pleasant."

"So you mean literally anything other than what any of us have been up to recently?" Harley sassed. Jeremiah shot him a look. "Okay fine whatever." He searched for some light conversation. "So you guys are like boyfriends now or what?"

That seemed to make Bruce and Jeremiah both blush and the air in the room cleared significantly. Harley pulled off being cheery and invested as he teased and prodded and asked questions and engaged. Things almost seemed like they used to be when Bruce and Y/n would sit with their parents and Bruce mentioned a girl and Y/n would go off about how he was going to be the best man or the world would surely end... but Harley wasn't Y/n and Jeremiah wasn't their parents. This wasn't Wayne Manor and as good of a server as Echo was, she wasn't a butler. She wasn't Alfred.

Under the light tone, Harley formed a plan. A plan he carried out as he and Bruce began to hang out more and more as time passed that night and stretched for a while. Jerome became nocturnal in favor of being awake when Harley finally returned at home. The boys would spend some time together and then sleep and then Harley would wake up and go out and spend time with Bruce and Jeremiah again. Slowly the time with the other boys began to cut into Harley's time with Jerome and both he and Harley were getting restless. They'd begun arguing about it.

"Stay in tonight," Jerome whined.

"Bruce wants me to come back to Wayne manor tonight." Harley sighed, an odd expression on his face. "I've finally earned his trust and am getting along with him - as much as it pains me. I think Jeremiah is talking to him when I'm not around, convincing him to behave and respect my boundaries. He calls me Harley and has stopped expecting me to be the person I used to be. I don't know, I think he'll be enough to convince Alfred though I might have to try a tad harder." He rubbed his forehead. "Soon I'm sure I'll be chummy with them again and that'll definitely lead to interacting with all of Bruce's friends - which will be a whole other adventure of its own."

Jerome huffed. "If you're going back to Wayne manor, won't Bruce want you to move back in?"

The thought had occurred to Harley if he was being honest. Where did he draw the line in being buddy buddy with his brother again? Where did he stop things? How far did Jerome want him to go? "Probably," Harley voiced, shrugging. There was a long pause. Jerome was more guarded than he usually was and it set Harley on edge. When the red head did speak, it was in a dangerously quiet tone. "Would you go?"

"W- would you want me to?" Harley was distracted by the way Jerome's Adam's Apple moved when he swallowed.

Jerome hummed. "So this is still about what I want?"

That made Harley defensive. "You think I'm dealing with my arrogant brother because I want to?" It had a biting edge to it.

"And what about my brother?" Jerome pushed.

Now Harley was confused. "Jerome I did all of this for you. To convince them you were dead so you'd be free to have some free time and then make your grand entrance whenever you wanted to. I did this because you asked me to." Jerome rolled his eyes. "You've been gone a lot. You come home... lighter. You enjoy your time with them."

"I'm sorry, you WANT me to come home miserable?" Harley sneered, his hands coiling into fists.

Jerome's eyes darkened. Harley realized what was happening. Before he could react, Jerome's hand shot out, fingers curling around Harley's throat. Jerome pressed his boyfriend against the closest wall, his face close and words sharp like knives. "You're getting angry again. Talking to me like that, as if I'm one of our dumb brothers or that blonde idiot Jeremiah carries around. You might have been gone for a while now, but SURELY not long enough to have forgotten to respect me."

Harley gasped, eyes fluttering closed. Jerome's grip wasn't dangerous but it could go that way if Harley wasn't careful. Jerome only ever got like this when he was frustrated. Usually when he was bored and wanted to do something other than sit around. To be fair, he was cooped up which was something he HATED to be. He hated feeling trapped. And on top of that Harley had been spending less and less time around the place. It was a miracle the redhead had behaved so long. Harley had spent more nights with Jeremiah, talking to Bruce so late into the night and fake catching up and playing nice that it was just easier for them both stay at Jeremiah's. Alfred had even gotten used to a simple text from Bruce letting the older man know where he was and that he was safe. If Bruce wasn't home by 10pm Alfred had come to expect that he wouldn't be back at all. It had become a sort of habit.

Perhaps Harley had been a tad neglectful.

He sighed, letting his guard down and releasing all the tension he'd gained from being around Bruce. Jerome didn't deserve this. "I'm sorry, you're right." Jerome didn't let up. "Oh so you shoot me puppy dog eyes and say sorry and that's supposed to be it?" Harley could feel his insides warming as Jerome grew closer, the air in the room slowly becoming infected with sexual tension. The sudden mood change was hard for Y/n to switch gears to, even though he was immediately eager. "You've forgotten who you belong to."

"I-"

Jerome's hand tightened on Harley's throat, cutting off any attempt to speak. "What was that?" Harley coughed a little as the initial shock took him off guard. His eyes fluttered but he could still breathe which is what mattered. "Come on, Harley. Come on, Y/n." Harley jerked at the name. "Is that what you want me to call you? Is that who you want to be?"

Harley wasn't dealing with that shit. His body jerked, arms wrapping around Jerome. He pulled hard, twisting to turn Jerome around so he'd have to let Harley go, or risk hurting his arm. As predicted, Jerome let go. Harley twisted their bodies with extreme force, pushing Jerome's face into the wall aggressively. "What the fuck did you call me?" He growled. The words were raw from his throat being a little sore. It made Jerome smile. "Answer me. Now." Harley let his free hand thread into Jerome's hair. He pulled, the red head squirming underneath him as it began to hurt. "I said, now."

"I called you Y/n," Jerome answered softly. His tone was half reluctance and half defiance. He didn't want to answer Harley like he'd been told to, but saying the name again did give him power.

Harley leaned back, pulling Jerome away from the wall just by his hair. He dragged him over to the bed. "Kneel. Now." Jerome was giggling as Y/n hurt him, getting off on the pain. "NOW, Valeska!" Jerome smirked, taking his precious time with following the order. When he was down, Y/n maneuvered his face into the bed. "Stay there. If you move, I will know and you will be punished. I will be back in a moment." He left Jerome there, ducking out of the bedroom to the trunk in the bathroom, shoved in the closet. He opened it, pushing around some things they'd collected in their time together. This was the stuff they used when things got more kinky. Handcuffs Jerome had gotten from cops even before he and Y/n were together. Rope from a construction sight. Some things were specifically from sex stores - stolen of course.

Ignoring most of it, Harley grabbed the handcuffs and went back into the room. He returned to see Jerome had indeed moved. In fact he was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands. He was smirking at Harley, a dare in his eyes. The red head seemed to be expecting Harley to lose his shit, but Harley didn't. Instead, he got very still, thinking. That seemed to actually make Jerome nervous.

Slipping the handcuffs into his back pocket, Harley slowly approached Jerome. His eyes cut into Jerome's soul, his jaw so tightly shut that Jerome shivered. "What, you think you're going to look at me and-?"

Jerome didn't get to finish his sentence. Out of nowhere, unexpectedly, Harley backhanded Jerome, causing the sitting boy's head to snap to the side. The red head was shocked, but found his stomach twisting with the familiar sensation of arousal. This wasn't like when he was a kid. Harley was calm and controlled - even his hit was direct. There was a safety in the way that Harley controlled himself. Jerome didn't fear him. It left room to enjoy what was happening. Harley gripped Jerome's jaw, bringing the red head's brown eyes around to meet his. "What did I say when I left the room, Jerome?" Harley not using a pet name in a sexual situation made Jerome shift nervously. Was Harley actually mad? "You told me not to move."

Harley released a breath, smirking as he got turned on just by getting Jerome to answer his question without being pushed. When Jerome was being bratty, he refused Harley any amount of control. So when he let up even the smallest amount, it never failed to excite Harley. "And what did you do?" Unwilling to let Harley win twice in a row, Jerome shrugged. Harley slapped him again. The red head blinked, breathing sharply outward as he felt the stinging on his face. "I moved."

A hum came from Harley as he stood, crossing his arms. "You know I had to punish you for using the wrong name, but it was going to be pretty light. Now..." Jerome shivered under that look - like Harley was trying to figure just how to kill him. "I'm going to take your clothes off Jerome. If you fight me, you'll get immediate punishment do you understand?" Jerome nodded. Harley rose an eyebrow.

"Yes, Daddy."

That seemed to please Harley. He stopped glaring at least. First Harley removed Jerome's shirt. Then he gently nudged Jerome, and the redhead followed the flow and laid back on the bed. Harley then removed his pants, and his socks one at a time. Slowly. Jerome felt himself get antsy. "Do you want something, baby?" Harley asked evenly.

"I'm fine," Jerome responded.

Unfortunately for him, his erection gave him away. "You don't want me to do... anything?" Harley asked again, pausing to look at Jerome very carefully.

The redhead looked back for a long time, a battle happening between the two men. Jerome lost. "Jesus Christ Harley, touch me."

That got Harley to smile. "Ask nicely J, or I'm going to have to punish you." Jerome went to glare but Harley reached up, threading his fingers through Jerome's hair and pulling roughly. "Listen here bitch, I'm not here to mess around. You're going to listen to me or you're going to regret it, understand?" They had come a long way since having sex in a cell and trying to keep quiet. Back then, Harley had fumbled and blushed a lot and been overwhelmed very easily. Back then, Jerome would stretch out, getting comfortable as he bossed Harley around - a true power bottom. Or, he would top, and then he'd get very soft and quiet and affectionate... Well, compared to how he usually was when he was impossible to please and degrading to an extent that had driven Harley insane.

Now adays, things were different. There was a huge power play between the two men constantly, and endlessly pushing buttons. What would often happen was that Harley would be a bit of a brat but otherwise let Jerome blow off steam, unless it was a day that Jerome desperately wanted Harley to "take hold and ruin" him. A direct quote from the ginger. On those days, Jerome did what he did best: he kept talking. He said all the things he knew would piss off Harley the most, like calling him by his old name. He would make Harley snap and then Harley would retaliate exactly how he wanted.

Not today.

"Fuck, you're such a baby," Jerome grumbled, rolling his eyes. "I'm bored with you playing daddy, I already know all your moves and we both know that you're just going to give me what I want anyways. You're a soft top, Sweetheart." He was smirking, proudly flaunting the power he usually had over Harley.

Today though, Jerome had pushed him too much. After all the shit he'd gone through with Jeremiah and Bruce, hearing Jerome call him Y/n had pushed him in a way that had sent him over the edge. And if he was being honest, he had his own frustrations. He wanted to run free as much as Jerome did and break things and scream as loudly as he wanted and sock his stupid brother in his face any time he dare even mention Jerome's name in Harley's presence. He was tired of behaving. He was tired of feeling like some toy. He was tired of being used. He was really, REALLY fucking tired of being ignored, too.

Harley's smile was dangerous. Jerome looked at him, unsure of what was going through the other boy's head. "You know, you have a little too much attitude for someone who's currently desperate for me to touch him. You want something from me? You need to learn some respect." Harley reached over, grabbing Jerome's wrist and forcing it toward the top of the bed. It happened so fast that only when Harley had used one cuff to get Jerome's right hand, and then had threaded the second cuff through the bars at the head of the bed, did Jerome react.

"HEY!"

At the outburst, Harley didn't hesitate to slap Jerome again. The redhead gasped, body shivering. He would absolutely never admit it, but this kind of aggression had always turned him on, when he was comfortable with the person. He'd wanted someone to be like this with him for ages, but not many people were willing to go far enough to please Jerome Valeska. By the way Harley was looking at him right now, this time might be different.

"I didn't give you permission to speak. Granted, I didn't tell you to shut up either so I'll be forgiving, but if you shout at me one more time you will regret it." He gripped Jerome's other wrist, cuffing that as well. Now Jerome's hands were over his head, trapped by the cuffs and the bar. "If you want to say something, I want you to address me first. I will allow you to continue then. Or I will not." Jerome hesitated, then nodded, intrigued by this side of Harley even he had not the pleasure of exploring before.

What came next surprised Jerome. Harley didn't take him right there, rough and hot. He didn't move slowly around and tease until Jerome wa a desperate mess of begs and whimpers. Harley didn't touch him at all. In fact, he moved off of the bed completely. He left the room even, returning a moment with a chair. Only then did he undo his own clothes, only lowering his pants enough to allow himself access his erection. He didn't even pull his pants off all the way! Jerome felt completely exposed, tied up and naked for viewing pleasure, when Harley was so far away and completely dressed.

To Jerome's intense frustration, Harley sat down on the chair and began stroking himself, eyes on Jerome. Harley's eyes were wide and lust blown, his tongue flicking out every once in a while to wet his lips. After a while, his eyes fluttered shut and his head tilted back just a little as a small moan came from him.

Jerome shifted. He was getting uncomfortable with how long he'd been hard without being touched, and watching Harley be like this was not helping. Jerome really liked to be involved in sexual acts. He had gotten rather pouty anytime Harley was caught masterbating, and there had been an unspoken rule that Harley didn't really restrain Jerome for stuff like this. If Harley wanted to be touched, Jerome would touch him. They both preferred it that way. This was ridiculous, and frankly rude. Jerome wasn't going to give Harley the upper hand. This was a low blow and he wasn't going to let Harley get away with it.

As Harley continued though, getting more into it and completely ignoring Jerome, it was becoming increasingly hard to keep his mouth shut. Trying to play it off like he didn't care as much as he did, Jerome finally spoke up. It had seemed an eternity for him, but it had actually only been a few seconds and Harley had to swallow his smile to not give himself away. "Okay Harley, very funny. Let me touch you. I'm sorry I called you the other name. You know I can do this better than you can. Let me out." When Harley continued to ignore Jerome, the cuffed ginger raised his voice. "LET ME OUT!"

"Why?" Harley growled, eyes finally on Jerome again. "Because you told me to? Because you asked me to?" He stood, pulling his pants up again. "I'm not your little bitch Jerome, you're mine. You want to kill someone? Fine. You want to steal or break something? Fine! But you don't call me by that name. You don't mess with me, because I'm all you got. If you want me to leave, you ask like a big kid."

Jerome's lips twitched, slowly rising into a smile. "Are you actually mad at me?"

Harley grinned. "No, not really." They both cracked up, losing it for a few extended seconds. Then Harley cut off and Jerome faded into quiet, soft chuckles as Harley began to speak. "I respect you, J. My little joker." He moved towards the bed, caressing Jerome's cheek. The ginger leaned into the touch, his eyes closing. He fed off of the contact, as if it was a drug or he was starving and the gesture fed him. Harley smiled softly. "You gotta respect me too. You don't have to piss me off to get me to break you, joker. All you have to do is ask me nicely, like a good boy. Do all the bad things you want. But not to me."

A sigh escaped Jerome, and then he finally gave in. "If I behave will you let me out? I want you to touch me. Please."

That pleased Harley. "That's what I wanted to hear." He leaned back a little, eyes scanning Jerome's exposed body. "I will let you out. And then it's time to play for real." His eyes glinted with a darkness that made Jerome jerk in expectation. Needless to say, Harley didn't disappoint.

-

Story Tags: @wanna-plan-world-domination​

[soldierwinterthe]

bounty on my head

Summary: After killing the son of a notorious crime boss, the latter puts a price on your head. While you are alone, around the city, some men try to kill you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: a lot of violent scenes, and a lot of blood

A/N’s Note: I admit it, I was inspired by the film 'John Wick', with Keanu Reeves. I LOVE that movie, literally!

Feedback is always appreciated.

If I had known that after killing that son of a bitch, his stupid father would have put a price on my head...no, the son of a bitch would still have died at my hands. He was a known criminal and a murderer, and my job was to eliminate him.

Except that, now, all the assassins in the world when they see me, they try to kill me; up to fifteen million dollars up for grabs. When I found out, I thought I'd kill me alone; they are a lot of money, few people have had these kind of bounties.

Anyway, if I had to be careful first, now I have to watch my back every five minutes.

Every person who comes close to me, sitting next, or ask me a information... it could be a killer ready to kill and to collect its reward.

Then, I'm not that type of person who hides in a bunker, and waits that things pass, and that people forget.

People will never forget – especially when it comes to money. Today, tomorrow, or in ten years, I will always have the size on my head, and someone who wants me dead.

Unless... the only way to make the size disappear, is to delete it. And only the man who requested it can do it. But the problem is that I don't know where he is. Mr. Letun is very good at hiding.

The sound of my phone shakes me slightly; even before I pick up the phone and see who's calling, I already know who it is.

Barnes.

Bucky worries too much; yes, I am his girlfriend, and he loves me, but he also knows that I'm an expert killer in hand-to-hand combat, ranged combat and firearms. Not to brag, but I could kill my enemies, and in the meantime do the manicure.

"Hello?"

"Y/n, are you okay? Where are you?"

I roll my eyes; from his tone of voice, I realize that Bucky is more worried than usual. I know he does it because he's really scared that something bad happens to me, but sometimes I feel like he doesn't trust me.

"Yes, Bucky. I'm fine."

In the meantime, I go into a bar. Bucky kept me locked up at the base for almost a month; he even asked Tony not to send me on a mission. Saving people is the only thing I can do, and I can do it very well; instead, Bucky wants to keep me segregated.

So, I decided to do it my way; while he is on a mission with the others, I got up from the couch, I turned off the TV – now I saw all the programs on Netflix – and after taking a shower, I went out. I didn't want to go to a specific place, I just needed to breathe, and know that I am a free person.

The problem is... my boyfriend. I was convinced that he would be back in two days, but – of course – he had to come back early on the exact day I left.

Even before entering the bar to have a drink and enjoy the evening, the phone rings, and it's him. But his call doesn't intimidate me, I will not go home until I have had at least a couple of glasses of whiskey.

"Y/n, where are you? I am coming to pick you up."

"Bucky, I don't need it. I'm perfectly safe; I'll be back home in an hour."

Before my boyfriend can reply something, I hang up the call, putting the phone back in its place.

Bucky will not ruin my evening; when I come home, will he be angry with me? Damn, yes. But I don't care; he must understand that I can protect myself.

About half an hour later, and a bottle of borboun almost finished, I pay the bill, and I get out of the bar.

It's dark outside, the moon is not visible in the sky, and the street lamps don't seem to want to work tonight; just the night I go out. It's not a coincidence at all.

I walk towards the park – it's the fastest way back home, and at this time, even the least crowded. In the meantime, I start counting the killers around me.

Two boys kissing on a bench; a woman with a clearly empty stroller; a man who walks the dog; a group of boys chatting and joking among themselves, in the middle of the park. Three other men, dressed as garbage collectors, who collect the papers that they themselves have probably thrown to the ground.

In all, I count sixteen people in the park, and they're all serial killers. I remain calm, trying not to show any emotion; in fact, I'm not scared. I should have, but the killers are trained for this.

And then, I feel safer with my two Glock hidden under the skirt, the butterfly knife in the right boot and the knife in the left one.

I'm going out always armed – the danger fills the streets of New York more than I wanted – but I thought it was a good idea to bring some extra weapon.

I went out with the knowledge that they would follow me; to be honest, I feel rather offended by the fact that there are only a few people.

I pass the center of the park, and, exactly after 257 meters, one of the garbage collectors emerges from behind a tree, with a crossbow in his hands; he shoots an arrow, and I can avoid it by a whisker. I run towards him, and I can put him k.o. with one shot. They must have sent the weakest first, because if they all fight like the guy lying at my feet... it will be easier than expected.

Someone is behind me; I turn around, meanwhile I pull out one of my guns.

She's the woman with the stroller, and it's closer than I expected.

The bullet hits the woman right in the head, but not before her knife jabs into my right shoulder; make sure the woman is dead – the pool of blood in which I find her is a tangible proof – I pull out the knife from my shoulder with a sharp blow; pulling it away slowly would only cause more pain.

Despite everything, the wound is not very deep, and moreover, I have already eliminated two killers; only 14 are missing.

After the first two, the others go to the strong manners; the two garbage collectors still run towards me, firing me with machine guns. I hide immediately behind some bushes, but one of them strikes me; now I have a bullet stuck in my right calf. It seems that the right side of my body is the most painful one. From under my skirt, I pull out the other Glock; holding the two guns in my hands, I go out of my hiding place, and I shoot.

At first almost blindly, but when I recognize the shadows of the two men, I shoot a couple of shots, and they fall to the ground.

Fortunately, the park at this time is completely empty, and my weapons have a silencer. At this time, so many shots would attract dozens of people, and the police would soon arrive.

I walk quickly towards the exit of the park, and it seems that I manage to get out of there unharmed... or almost.

I walk in isolated streets – I know perfectly well that others are still following me, and I don't want to endanger innocent people – but the leg begins to limp. As much as I can withstand the pain, I have to hurry up.

Just round the corner, in front of me there are the two guys who were sitting on the bench and the man who took the dog for a walk; the two guys run towards me without weapons. We begin to fight, and between fists, kicks and martial arts moves, I can also put them k.o.

The man with the dog is still in front of me, his hands clasped behind his back; he walks slowly toward me, and showing me his hands, I notice an ax. Seriously? I bet that when he doesn't kill people, this guy uses the ax to break the wood. Anyway, this guy doesn't seem too good either.

The ax leaves me some superficial wounds on my arms, but finally, I stick the weapon on the man's head.

I'm covered in blood – and it's so much that I can't figure out what mine is, and which ones I killed – the leg is now losing sensitivity, and the shoulder wound... no, that has fortunately lost little blood, and what's left around the wound is starting to get dry.

Only the group of boys is missing; eleven people, and I can go back to the base, where a doctor and a lot of morphine are waiting for me.

Less than a mile from my point of arrival, the boys show up; one next to the other, like 'Pussycat Dolls', each of them has a gun in their hand. They start shooting me, I hide behind a car; these don't have silencers, and every shot echoes in my ears.

However, I prepare myself for the counterattack; while they continue to shoot me, I count the bullets I have: 8. Too few to kill them all, but enough to kill eight.

I tear the mirror up close to the car, and help me with it to see where exactly each of the killers are; they are divided, but I can still see them all.

I start shooting: a couple of them behind a car, one behind a phone booth. I can eliminate six, while two bullets missing the target.

Fuck.

I'm out of ammo, and I remain only with the knives; now that I think, I should take the crossbow of the garbage man. I would have made sparks with that.

Suddenly, silence; no noise, no gunshot. They too have no more bullets. I pull out my two knives, and, coming out of my hiding place, I throw the butterfly knife towards the boy near the Chinese restaurant; I hit him, and he falls to the ground.

Four boys remain. They all come towards me, with sharp knives; they hit me in the back, in the stomach. With my knife, I cut the throat to one of them, to another I stab him in the heart; a woman shakes my hair, she pulls them. For the pain I close my eyes for a second, and hit with my knife behind me, blindly.

The blade hits something, and the woman's grip on me slackens. I turn around, and the woman is on the ground, with my knife stuck in the temple; only one kill remains.

He's behind me, and I turn around, ready to eliminate him, and go home.

As soon as I am healed, I will find that son of a bitch of Mr. Letun, and I will torture him until he delete my size.

The man is in front of me, and to my surprise, he draws a gun. He points me straight in the face, but I can lower it in time, the bullet doesn't hit me in the head, but it pierces my left side. I can perceive the bullet perforating the organs, and coming out of the other side of my body.

The adrenaline helps me; I remove the gun from the hands of the man, and with the butt of the gun, I hit him as many times as I can. He fell to the ground; I grabbed his gun, and I shot him.

I approach the woman, and I shoot her too; for safety.

I pull out the charger, four bullets.

I should be able to walk less than a mile – even because the murderers are all dead. I think.

Limping, I finally enter the Avengers base; in the main room there are Steve, Nat and Tony. They turn as soon as they hear the door open, they look at me with an upset air. I must look awful.

"Good evening. Would any of you be kind enough to call a doctor?"

I cough, and cover my mouth with my hand; I look at her, she is dirty with blood.

Fuck.

"A doctor. Now."

"I want to see her."

When the doctor saw me, she thought I was a zombie; a normal person doesn't survive all the wounds I had.

But she still managed to pull the bullet out of my leg – the one in my side had already come out, just as I had foreseen – to mend the shoulder wound, and to disinfect all the cuts I got.

"Actually, she said... she doesn't feel well, and she doesn't want to see anyone, Mr. Barnes."

Yes, it's true. I told the doctor not to let anyone in, and for anyone, I mean Bucky. I know exactly that he will give me a long lecture; in fact, I think he already prepared it when he came here.

And I also know that it will not follow my requests, and will enter like a madman into the room.

Sitting on the couch, I look at the sack full of transparent liquid, which falls drop by drop into my veins. Damn, right now I would kiss the man who discovered morphine.

The door behind me opens, and heavy boots throw closer to me. He took more time than expected to enter.

I move my eyes from the morphine to my boyfriend, who has his perfect blue eyes fixed on me. He doesn't look at my body covered with cuts, Bucky looks me in the eye, never blinking.

He starts to make me uncomfortable.

"Then? Don't you say anything? You will play the game of silence, or you will start with 'Did I tell you?'" I say, imitating his voice in the final part.

"There is not much to say. The bullet holes, the shoulder wound, and the dozens of cuts and bruises on your body speak for themselves."

I roll my eyes; Bucky is not the type that remains silent, especially after what happened to me. I can see the pulsing vein on his neck; he tries to stay calm, but he can't very well.

"Come on, Bucky. We both know you will not resist making me a lecture. so let off steam, go ahead. I am listening to you."

"This is all a game for you!?" Bucky says, approaching me a step closer.

Long ago, when I met Bucky, if he had approached me so threateningly, I would have retreated. Not because I was afraid, but because he was still in its 'high danger' phase.

Now, instead, I know the meaning of every gesture; it took years, before learning to know him.

"No, it's not a game. Sixteen fucking murderers tried to kill me for fifteen fucking millions of dollars! They shot me, beat me, and one of them even had a fucking ax!"

I take a deep breath; the dose of morphine that the doctor has prescribed for me, I think it's not enough; the pain in my leg is starting again, and I don't want to feel it at all.

Bucky continues to remain silent, I lie on the bed, tired like never before; trying to get closer to the morphine bag, to increase the dose, Bucky anticipates me.

"You can't increase morphine."

"Please, Bucky. My leg hurts so badly."

He looks at me, even looking at me, as if to peer inside, know what I'm thinking.

Finally, Bucky approaches morphine, and slightly he increases the dose.

I remain silent, and I thank him with my eyes.

In one corner, there's an armchair, and that's where Bucky sits, not even for a moment glancing at me.

I close my eyes, and fall asleep.

I wake up about a couple of hours later; the first thing I look for is Bucky; he is still there, napping on the armchair.

He always seems so calm, while he sleeps; I wonder if he has ever dreamed me.

I remember the first few times when Bucky was afraid of sleeping with me. He still had not overcome the brainwashing trauma, and the night ended up waking in a sweat bath, completely frightened.

I knew what was happening, but initially I gave him space, and time to recover.

Then, one day, one night to be exact, I couldn't sleep; Bucky and I had gone to the cinema, and then we'd walked the streets of the city.

It had been a perfect evening, and there in my bed, I thought about how we had greeted each other; why Bucky had not kissed me, why he had not even hugged me. So, I went to his room, not even knocking, but Bucky felt my presence at the exact moment when I closed the door behind me.

He turned in his bed, while I was already near the edge. Without saying anything, I lay down beside him, and Bucky automatically wrapped his arms around my waist.

It was the first time Bucky and I slept together, and things have been different since that day.

I look at the morphine sac, now completely empty; in fact, the leg doesn't hurt me anymore, and I feel better.

Only now I realize that I still stain with blood; now it has dried up, and my hands are sticky. Without making too much noise – I don't want Bucky to wake up – I get out of bed, and head to the bathroom.

I open the shower tap, and after having painstakingly removed my clothes, I throw myself under the water.

I know it's a very obvious thing, but the hot water that falls on me is perfect; it loosens the muscles still tense, and it makes me feel much better. It calms me, physically and psychologically.

I am still under the water, when, suddenly, the curtain in front of me opens abruptly; I scream in fright, and pull the curtain toward me, to cover myself.

It's Bucky.

"What the hell, Bucky! You made me die of fear."

"I had to make sure you were here."

"What? Did you think I had left the water open, and I had run away? If you have not noticed, at the moment I still look like a limping old woman."

"As if you had never done it. Leave the water open, and run away."

Okay. Yes, I did it. Bucky and I were not dating yet, but his room was not far from mine; recently. I was part of the Avengers. Since I was a... newbie, I couldn't go for a stroll alone.

But I didn't even want to stay closed in my room; so, one day I went out – making everyone think I was in the shower.

When I returned, however, I entered the wrong window, and found myself lying in Bucky's bed. While he slept.

Come to think of it now, I laugh, but I try to hold back. If I laughed now, Bucky would get even more pissed off.

Now my time of relaxation is over, so I close the tap.

"Can you hand me the towel, please?"

Bucky stares at me for a few seconds, looking a bit 'strange.

"I promise you that while you take the towel, I don't run away. Also because, it's behind you, I wouldn't even have time to get out of the tub, with my leg hurting."

With the towel finally around my body, Bucky and I go back into the room; while I change, he does nothing but stare at me, and I don't know whether to feel excited, or uncomfortable. Probably the second one. Maybe.

"What do we do now?" I ask him, after wearing one of his T-shirts, and sitting on the bed again.

"What do you think? We find Mr. Letun, and torture him, until he cancels the size. Later, we kill him. For safety."

"Are you convinced you want to do it? He has a rather... broad army."

"Who cares! Bucky, what happened tonight, it will happen every time I leave this base. I don't want to remain forever locked up in a room. I want to live."

Bucky looks at the floor; I have never seen him in this state; he's worried, I know. What I don't know is whether his concern. concerns me, or Mr. Letun.

I get out of bed, and going to the armchair where Bucky is, I sit on his legs.

"I know it will not be easy. And I know I fucked up."

"Exactly, you shouldn't have gone out."

"By crap, I meant to have killed Letun's son. I should have killed not only his son, but him too. And instead, I let it go, and now I am in this mess."

Bucky rolls his eyes; poor man, he was convinced that I was sorry to be out; despite the wounds, the cuts, the bullets... I don't regret being out. I really enjoyed it.

"I'm tired of this situation. I don't want to spend the rest of my life like this, locked up in a room to prevent someone killing me. Bucky, I have to find Mr. Letun, and I have to kill him."

"We have to."

"What?"

"We have to find him. I will come with you, I certainly will not let you go alone."

I smile, for what Bucky has just said. Although there was no need, because I knew perfectly well that he would help me.

A couple of days, a week maximum – the doctor said I have to rest for at least a month, but I will never do it – and I will get back on my feet. And I'll find that son of a bitch.

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