"Of course he did. Put a contract on Y/N L/N." Fisk said as he sat in front of the fire.
"How much?" Wesley asked.
"Two million." Fisk said calmly. "Put Richard in the Deep End and wait."
"For what?" Wesley asked.
"For Y/N L/N, of course." Fisk said before standing up and leaving.
Fisk arrived at the home on East 83rd Street 160, New York. A few seconds after ringing the doorbell, he was welcomed in by James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes. As fisk sat down at the head of a long dining table Barnes handed him a health drink.
"Thank you."
"To what do I owe this visit?" Barnes asked as he sipped the drink.
"I have a job for you." Fisk said calmly.
"And I've got a phone." Barnes stated with a smirk.
"Hmm. I want to offer you this face to face seeing as how you might find it personal...Would you kill Y/N L/N for two million dollars? After all, you were close." Fisk said as he looked Barnes in the eyes.
"Is the contract exclusive?" Barnes asked.
"No, it's open. It's a timely matter, it has to be handled quickly." Fisk explained.
"Consider it done."
"Thank you, James. I know I can trust you. Thanks for the drink." Fisk said as he stood up and left.
James stood there thinking for a moment before setting about unpacking his equipment from a cupboard under the stairs. He began preparing an M40A3 sniper rifle.
Y/N meanwhile was driving through New York until he arrived at 'The Bar'. He parked outside and grabbed his belongings from the boot of the car before heading inside.
As he walked in he saw a woman with long jet black hair, she turned and noticed him, her face forming a smirk as she was checking into the Bar/Hotel.
Y/N then looked to the Concierge, a man Y/N had known before his retirement.
Lance Reddick as Charon (Because there's no way I'm replacing him)
"Room 918. Do enjoy your stay." The concierge said.
"Thanks. Good seeing you again, Y/N." She said as she walked past Y/N.
"Elektra." Y/N said with a nod before he approached the Concierge.
"I have you for two nights."
"Depending on business, it may be more." Y/N stated.
"Of course, sir." The Concierge said calmly.
"So when did the old place get a facelift?" Y/N asked.
"Around four years ago. But I assure you, sir, she really hasn't changed much." The Concierge said.
"Same owner?" Y/N asked calmly, hoping that he would hear a yes.
"Same owner. Room 818." The Concierge said as he handed Y/N a key. "And, as always, it is a pleasure having you with us again, Mr. L/N."
"Charon." Y/N said with a nod before leaving, heading up to his room.
That night Y/N went down to the underground bar section of the establishment, as he walked through the bar until he found the owner of this fine establishment.
"Hello, Wanda." Y/N said as he sat down in the booth with the woman who smirked at the sight of him.
"Y/N. Now, as I recall, weren't you the one tasked to dole out the beatings, not receive them?" Wanda said as Y/N smirked.
"Rusty, I guess."
"To what do we owe the pleasure?" Wanda asked as she looked at him.
"Richard Fisk." Y/N said bluntly.
"What about him?" Wanda asked politely.
"I'd like to talk with him." Y/N said calmly.
"A talk, you say. I'm familiar with the parlance, Y/N. I want to ask you this. Have you returned to the fold?" Wanda asked as Y/N looked at her.
"Just visiting." Y/N said.
"Have you thought this through? I mean, chewed down to the bone? You got out once...you know there's no testing the waters with this, you dip your foot in this...you might just find yourself dragged down into it again..."
"Where do I find him?"
"Hey. L/N's at The Bar." Wesley said as Fisk looked out of the window.
"Welcome home, Y/N." Fisk said to himself.
"We have a contact there who's willing to take him out for us." Wesley said.
"Yeah? How brazen. If they're willing to break the rules of The Bar, double the bounty."
"You know the rules. No business can be conducted on these premises lest incurring heavy penalties. Have a drink...and relax. For now." Wanda said raising her drink to Y/N before sipping on it.
"It's personal." Y/N said as he stood up and walked over to the bar counter.
"Holy shit! Y/N!" The bartender said as she leaned in and gave Y/N a peck on the cheek.
"Hey, Jenny."
"My God! How long has it been? Four years?"
"Six and change." Y/N corrected with a smile.
"So tell me, how was life on the other side?"
"It was good, Jenny. Far better than I deserved." Y/N said as Jenny's face grew sympathetic.
"Hey, I'm sorry to hear about Na..."
"Thanks." Y/N said as he nodded knowingly.
"I've never seen you like this." Jenny said.
"Like what?" Y/N asked, confused.
"Vulnerable."
"I'm retired."
"Not if you're drinkin' here, you're not." Jenny said with a smirk as Y/N chuckled.
"Usual? Please." Y/N said as Jenny set about making his drink while Y/N listened to the jazz band in the background.
"Compliments of the house." Jenny said as she put the drink on the counter with a napkin underneath.
"Thanks." Y/N took the glass and was about to drink when he spotted writing on the napkin that said 'The Deep End' and a lipstick kiss under the writing. He turned to see Wanda raise a glass to him and both of her eyebrows, with a knowing smirk, toasting to his hopeful success. Y/N left without touching his drink...
YOU ARE READING
The Reaper [Male Reader]
FanfictionY/N L/N is a man in mourning over his deceased wife, the Avenger known as Natasha Romanoff. When his grieving is interrupted, Y/N is forced into a life he once left behind in order to seek vengeance against those who have wronged him.