Operation-619 - Operation-619 - Tumblr Blog

the death of dvds is so fucked. what about bonus features

BLACK WOMEN DESERVE THE WORLD.

BLACK WOMEN DESERVE THE WORLD.

BLACK WOMEN DESERVE THE WORLD.

BLACK WOMEN DESERVE THE WORLD.

BLACK WOMEN DESERVE THE WORLD.

BLACK WOMEN DESERVE THE WORLD.

BLACK WOMEN DESERVE THE WORLD.

Can I just say. That this, immaculate. Just ugggh, got me day dreaming about this man and his hand.

I'm in love with your writing! I keep re-reading The Feature... and I rarely re-read fanfics. Would you ever write a priest!Benedict fic? I think you'd do GREAT with some Fleabag Hot Priest energy. (Plus, you know, the priest kink many of us have)

Thou Shalt Not Covet // Priest!Benedict x Reader

Series Summary: After an unsavoury encounter with a stranger, you find yourself seeking safety within the walls of a quiet church. But when a young, attractive priest finds you sitting alone in the pews, you can’t help the less-than-holy thoughts that begin to take over.

Series Warnings: Strong language, adult and sexual themes, dark humour, irreverence, eventual smut/explicit sexual content, priest kink, religious imagery, female reader, reader has a name (no Y/N). Readers must be 18+

For those who don't like You/Reader fics: There is a first person version of this story available to read here on AO3.

Chapters:

Providence

Temptation

Faith

Sacrilege

Sacrifice

Credence

Divinity

Penance

Sin

Baptism

Communion

Mercy (coming soon)

Disclaimer: If you are easily offended by stories/kinks/smut involving religion or religious figures then please do not read this fic. It is your responsibility to avoid content that may trigger or offend you, and while it is never my intention to cause harm or disrespect with the fics I write, I simply cannot cater to everyone 100% of the time. If you do choose to read this story, then please try to take it for what it is: a work of fiction.

This is a short series and will only be a handful of chapters long.

✨ I post smut on my tumblr because I don't have sex in real life ✨

So… it’s a new year. And I would like to say a new me, but that would be lying.

I have been stuck in the repetitive cycle of hating everyone around me and then hating myself. I hate everyone around me for living their life so normally, not a hint of anything wrong. For smiling so brightly. For laughing so loudly without a care in the world. I hate people for being happy.

And then I hate myself for hating these people. Because what have they done to me? Nothing. Are they looking at me for wearing these clothes? Who the fuck knows.

Are they laughing at me because my hair is so frizzy? I don’t even know! But a voice in the back of my head keeps getting louder as each second passes, screaming at me to hide away. To stay safe in my own self and to not let anyone in.

My vision is slowly changing back to monochrome after all my effort to try and see new colours. And I hate it. I hate how people are so open about their colourful lives. The yellows, and pinks and the greens and blues.

And yet… I just don’t know what to do. I can’t seem to ask for help, because when I do - I slap myself in the face and joke about being depressed. How do I ask for help when I don’t even know what I need help for?

Is it the trauma for being abused by my classmates for being black? Or is it the unhealthy relationship I have with my body. Is it how I can’t seem to find peace within myself or is it the fact that I have pushed everything away for so long that they just don’t seem to be coming back?

I ask myself a lot of what ifs. But no ‘what now?’

So this year, I think - no hope, that I will be able to heal my inner child. And that child will be able to call out for help and in doing so I, ME will be able to heal.

And I know it won’t be fast, it will be slow and extremely painful to myself and those closest to me. But I am okay with that. Because I need it to hurt, that’s how I know it’s going to get better.

-619 xox

an absolutely insane way to end this year 

Happy holidays my dears. And to those who don’t celebrate, have a wonderful day and hope the new years brings comfort.

I'm obsessed with Homelander X Innocent!Reader Can i ask for more?

Hi 👋🏽

So there is one last instalment for this series and it is here - I really hope you enjoy it x

https://operation-619.tumblr.com/post/664157521409359872/sancturay

Operation-619

Sancturay

Homelander X Innocent!Reader (female). PT.2 So the original fic just received 300 likes and I said to myself if it get to that number than a

xox-619

the suffering never ends

really liked your Homelander x innocent reader fic, i'd love to see a continuation!!

Sanctuary is the final post to this universe, and I’m proud of the way I was able to finish it. There is definitely more to come, probably over the Christmas break. But we will see.

619 x

Sancturay

Homelander X Innocent!Reader (female). PT.2

So the original fic just received 300 likes and I said to myself if it get to that number than a sequel is coming. And here it is. This Fic will have a dark tone to it so please read at your own risk. I am so sorry it took so long, but it is what it is. if you enjoy please leave a comment about what you liked and don’t be afraid to reblog and reach out for some requests of your own.

Words: 6.2K

Summary: Homelander has found himself too drunk on (Y/N), so he took a break from the one good thing he knows hoping his infatuation will calm down. However, upon return. the sweetness he’s tried so hard to resist tempt him once again to dip his fingers in. She’s his opioid, and he’s her Sanctuary. 

Warnings: Dub/Con elements, language, manipulation, mentions of VIOLENCE, Smut, Homelander basically using the readers naivety against her, Major Character!Death.

Bold italics are inner thoughts 

italics are past events

[masterlist] - Part One 

enjoy 619 xox

Home for (Y/N) was never really a place or a person. Home for her was more of a feeling, it was a deep, gut wrenching feeling that left her dizzy if she was too caught up in it. Because that feeling was always associated with a certain man, a man that flew with American pride upon his wide shoulders. 

A man that had everyone’s eye and fingers follow him as he shot through the sky on his next quest to save a damsel in distress. But he was the very same man that did anything but save (Y/N), those who had the privilege of laying there tainted eyes upon the couple could vaguely see that red flags would plant themselves in their footsteps, but those same footsteps were washed away like footprints in the sand when (Y/N)’s laughter would echo of the pristine walls at Vought. The glimmer in her eyes would only grow stronger when she was in his presence. 

The feeling of security and adoration drenched those around the two, the way she glowed in his presence was otherworldly. The air was alway light and free. (Y/N) was happy and safe, because now that feeling of home and personified into a being so beautiful and kind that she felt out of place if she wasn’t in his arms. 

Her home was John. 

And it could almost be said the same for The Homelander, there was a tether that yanked itself painfully whenever she was away from him, his brain and heart fluttering in confusion whenever she’d smile up to him with those damn (E/C) eyes. He was convinced it was nothing, so he let it be just that - nothing. 

Four days. 

He went four days without (Y/N) in his life, and regrettably it was by choice. 

How stupid of him. 

On the first day, he remembered how his whole body felt rejuvenated, his lungs were able to properly expand without fear of breathing her scent in. His heart felt healthier without the constant stopping and restarting. And his head - his head felt lighter than a fucking feather, no thoughts colliding together about what she was doing, if she’d eaten. He felt free. On the second day, time seemed to pass rather quickly to begin with; he saved a group of school children when their bus flipped on a bridge - their sticky hands left imprints on his suit, he also saved a bank from a group of protestors trying to bring attention to the fraud and embezzlement some CEO had been doing at a high end law-firm. He didn’t care what was going on, his record as of late had been pristine and he wasn’t going to let some whistle-blowing old man ruin that for him. However, come lunch time the hands on the clock seemed to slow down, with no (Y/N) to bring him lunch and ramble on about the day she had teaching children the importance of gardening and eating healthy, his mind came to a slow stop.

 The routine they had been following for the past two years, three months and two weeks had just stopped, and he experienced something akin to a phantom limb. He knew she wasn’t beside him but his body automatically reacted, he could feel his pulse quicken with the anticipation of his (Y/N) walking around the corner any second. And he tried so hard to keep himself busy, but he’d catch himself watching the door waiting for his angel to come bouncing through any second. But those seconds turned into minutes, and those minutes turned into day three.

On day three he went to Madelyn, he sat in her office and watched her work for 25 minutes, he made mundane conversation with her. He watched her face, the way the corner of her mouth twitched and colour rushed to her cheeks whenever she’d look at the picture of her baby on her desk. He envied her, the feeling of being able to be so openly happy and in love. Having a person, no, the person that makes the pupils of her eyes dilated and her heart pound louder. It was sickening to him. He didn’t like jealousy a bit. He left her office with her sweet milk warming his stomach, and the post-orgasmic euphoria clouding his gaze. And as he walked into his room that night and caught his reflection he knew to himself that he could overcome this pointless infatuation, this disgusting vulnerability personified in the form of (Y/N). 

“Your fucking Homelander, get a grip of yourself!”

And when the sun rose and its rays caressed the city of New York, John awoke with pride swelling his chest. And that pride lifted him high and propelled him through his morning. His shoulders were wide and taught as he walked his way down to the meeting room, hopes high and smile almost genuine as he walked past all the staff members scurrying around. His blue eyes shined with the new weightless feeling he had, like the stars were in reach for him and the air was light, ‘I should visit Madelyn more often’  as if the universe had smiled down on his, the woman in question came strutting around the corner, golden hair curled and caressing her face gently, skirt tight and hugging her ass and hips beautifully. The smile that graced her lips when she caught sight of him caused less than innocent thoughts to occur at the forefront of his mind. 

“Homelander, you're a bit late this morning. I thought you would be in there already?” her voice carried itself to his ears, like honey it slowly trickled down and settled itself warmly in his stomach. He met her halfway as they both turned down the corridor leading to the meeting room, his shoulder shook as he chuckled at the mere notion of being late. So with a raise of his brow he replied back to her, “I’m not late, everyone else is just early. Anyway Ms Stillwell the meeting can’t happen until I have arrived.” Her response was a light laughter that made the pride in his chest swell further. She replied to him as they walked into the meeting room but all words were lost to him the moment his feet stepped past the threshold. It's as if he stopped functioning, his senses ceased leaving him exposed. But when they came back, it hit him so hard he felt like he was drowning. 

He smelled her first, the sweet scent of coconut and home invaded his scent. It burst the pride swelling in his chest and instead pumped it full of regret and something heavy. His ears rang slightly as he registered her laughter, it was as if he had been going through withdrawal symptoms and had succumbed to temptation all over again. Her laughter echoed in his head making him dizzy, it felt too unreal, someone was playing a sick joke on him. (E/C) eyes, he could see her beautiful eyes from across the room, he could see the way they shined and scrunched up as she laughed at something Starlight said. He remembered that face she’d make, he would make her laugh over and over again just to look at that face. 

Just once.

 His gaze swept over her face, he could remember this feeling that sat itself deep inside of him when (Y/N) had to go away for a mission once. He couldn’t put his finger on that feeling, he himself had never felt like that before, but all he remembered was how intense it was. 

So intense it made him act irrationally and kiss (Y/N). 

He stole from her, her first kiss. 

But at the same time she stole from him, because ever since then he felt like a piece of him was missing, but he felt whole again whenever he was with her. The touch of her skin, the softness of her lips is something that haunts him, like clouds with the sweetest taste. His mouth began to feel dry but simultaneously the taste of her flooded his tongue, the sweetness that just seemed to be embedded within his (Y/N). 

His (Y/N).

“John?” His mind playing tricks on him again, he managed to go three whole days without hearing her voice invading his mind. He felt suffocated, the mere thought of being within a meter of (Y/N) sent goosebumps spiralling down his back. Fuck the idea of being the strongest hero on earth because right now he was about to give in to the weight of possibilities. The possibility of (Y/N) walking over to him with that captivating smile, the possibility of her not even looking his way. 

The possibility of his (Y/N) leaving him without so much of a thought. 

His heart swelled with the notions of these possibilities, it stuttered and felt close to breaking as he looked across the room to where (Y/N) was once standing. But confusion became apparent when he could make out the image of another man standing too close to his (Y/N). The apple of his eye soured and turned rotten when he witnessed the very same smile only reserved for his eyes spread across her face. 

His eyes turned red with disgust, the feeling hot and an excruciatingly painful lump formed in his chest. Not a single element registered to him as his feet carried him over to them, his hand reached out and grabbed a hold of (Y/N)’s arm yanking her into his chest. He didn’t care for the whimper that left her mouth, no, his eye never strayed from the man in front of him. 

He imagined the sound of the man’s screams as he broke each bone in his body nice and slowly so he could savour that harmonious sound of tendons and muscles ripping as the bones are wrenched out of their place. A smirk graced his face as he thought of the idea of burning a mark onto his face, or maybe disfiguring his face. Anything to keep him away from his (Y/N).   

“John?” his mind reeled back as he focused on the woman in front of him, Madelyn’s eyebrows were furrowed in confusion which made the wrinkles on her face more prominent. He blinked once, and then looked over to where (Y/N) was standing to find that she and the man had both disappeared. His attention was scattered everywhere trying to understand what was happening, his vivid imagination had taken him by surprise. 

He was losing his mind. 

“Yes, sorry. What did you say?” his voice sounded strange, strained as he looked back down at Madelyn hoping for any kind of answer. 

“I said I'll be needing your input from the last mission.” He couldn’t remember his last mission, he was too busy thinking about her. “Apparently there is something bigger about to happen. White men and their need for power,” Stillwell left with a scoff and left him standing in his own puddle of confusion. His mind was spinning, reeling because the only thing on his mind was the very thing he spent four fucking days trying to forget. Four days isn’t enough time to come down from the high he always felt with her. 

She was his opioid and he needed to withdraw quickly before he falls down the rabbit hole again. Because something deep inside of him tells him that this time, there will be no escaping. 

_____

The sky turned sombre that afternoon, it turned grey as if it was mourning the loss of a friend, it wept for hours and hours drowning the people and nature below. The booming thunder vibrated through the whole city, shaking the building and sending a soft buzz through people's spines as it continued to mourn and weep. It grew darker and darker every minute making the people below scatter for any source of shelter - even if it is temporary, they were bracing themselves for an anxious night. 

A constellation of light suddenly appeared lighting the dark world, they scattered themselves far across the trembling sky and struck the ground violently, this orchestra continued well into the late night. 

Lifting her head up to the sky (Y/N) felt a smile slowly grace her wet face, she was in her sanctuary, at peace. The heaviness she let weigh her down for the past five days was being washed away by the rain that assaulted her skin with wet kisses. She breathed in deeply, feeling herself calm at the smell of wet grass, she could smell the freshness in the air from how high up she was. 

John showed her this lookout point during one of their many lunch dates, he took her out for ice cream and a walk through the park. It was nothing new but she remembered it vividly because John was wearing civilian clothes, and it never fails to surprise her every single time. The way jeans hug his thighs and those white shirts accentuated his muscle and the small of his waist. He always complained about how uncomfortable they were, nevertheless he still wore them for her. 

‘For me.’

She felt tears starting to surface at the memory, because that's all she had left now memories of the past, and she abused those memories until they felt real like she was still living them in the present because they were all she had for the past five days. 

Five long excruciating days without the one human being she had by her side for so long. And for that she hated him, hated how he just left without some much as a word or a look, hated how whenever she saw him he looked like he was glowing, hated how euphoric he looked coming out of Madelyn Stillwell’s office with that stupid goofy smile on his face. And she hated him for the way her heart felt. 

Weak, vulnerable. 

Pitiful. 

That’s what Kevin called her, “You look pitiful, sitting here looking out the window, all you really need now is for a violin to start playing for you (Y/N),” she leant her head on his shoulder and cried for an hour before he forced her outside. And her feet lead her to this cliff overlooking the city below. She stood and watched the people walk beneath her going on with their lives, oblivious to everything going on around them. 

At first she found it humorous, watching people scuttering about like ants on a mission. But that feeling came back to pull at her heart, the overwhelming feeling of something caused her to lose control for a minute as she tried to figure out what was going on with her. She was so lost in herself she nearly jumped out of her skin when water splashed gently onto her face, she wiped her eye out of habit but her suspicions were left unanswered when her hand came back dry. 

Then slowly more water fell onto her face, it was a small spatter of rain, something she does unconsciously when her emotions are all over the place. But as she stood there watching as a few raindrops fell here and there, she realised that - within those tortuous five days not once as she had that breakdown that everyone was expecting her to have. She was so fucking tired with the eggshells everyone was walking on around her it made her feel claustrophobic, like the whole godamm earth was about to shatter. 

She inhaled deeply, letting the scent of wet grass and concrete settle comfortably in her lungs before she closed her eyes and lifted her head towards the sky. The familiar feeling rushed through her body; as if a lover was slowly tracing her body with the tip of their finger, starting from her heart and expanding to her ten fingers and ten toes. 

Not long after the first eruption of thunder came, and then the sky was engulfed in dark clouds and lightning danced across the sky in an intricate ballet. (Y/N) lost herself in this exact moment, the chaos brought comfort to her soul.

It was her sanctuary. 

“I thought I’d find you here,” the deep timbre of his voice ripped her from the edge of euphoria, the thought of being at peace for the first time in what felt like forever was slowly and painfully slipping away. His cape of lies was waving violently and mockingly in the wind, she used to love the way his uniform looked on him. The way it sculpted his body and the confidence that oozed out of him whenever he wore in front of her.

Now?

Now, she could only imagine Madelyn’s hands clawing down his back and twisting the cape in her hands as he ruts his hips into her on the sofa in her office, mouth slack and eyes bleary in ecstasy. She can only hear the moans and groans leaving their mouths instead of the children cheering in joy at the sight of his cape. And whenever she looked at his stupid, fucking perfect face all (Y/N) could see was Madelyn’s lipstick plastered over his skin like she was marking her territory. 

‘She can have him!’ 

Her heart was stuttering as her mouth opened and closed, struggling to find the right letters to form the words she wanted, she probably looked like a fish gasping for oxygen. She felt deprived of it right now; the lack of it was making her fumble over basic basic words and god did she wish she could pull herself together. She be damned if she spent another hour thinking about him, she already wasted five days. The deep vibration of his chuckle pierced through her and caused her whole body to cease; she lost herself momentarily in his bemused and vivid blue orbs. She felt at peace suddenly. Did she?

“Did you just laugh at me?” The tone of her voice shocked not only herself but him, it was a lot stronger than he expected. Hostile. 

“Sorry, you just looked shocked that all, I know I've been gone for a minute-” she scoffed at the way he brushed past the elephant in the room.

“More like four days.” 

“Yes, four days. But I'm back now. And I wanted to talk to you.” He stepped forward and placed his hand on (Y/N) shoulders. The venom she felt boiling under her skin was like electricity, she could feel the hair on her neck become rigid as the air thinned and the rain quieted down. 

“No.” she whispered, her voice quivering as his scent assaulted her sense. 

He leaned in closer.

“What was that honey?” 

“Don’t you dare touch me!” her voice grew tenfold as a roar of thunder exploded in the sky, her breathing became rapid as she tore herself away from him and paced closer towards the edge of the cliff. Her hands anxiously gripped her hair, hoping to find something to ground her because the one thing - person, that did is now someone that poisoned her heart. 

“(Y/N)?” His voice was enough for her to know the confusion he was probably swimming in but right now in this moment she didn’t care. She had to get everything off of her chest, the very chest that was about to cave in at any moment under the pressure of…of everything. 

“You lied.” she surprised even herself with how calm her voice sounded right now. “You said that I was the only one for you, the only one who has kissed you.” She felt her whole body heat up as the next words left her mouth. 

“The only one to touch you in that way.” she could see the way John’s body froze as those words left her mouth, his hand suspended mid air still trying to reach out to her. 

“(Y/N)?” 

“So, John, imagine the surprise when I find out that not only are you not in Kazakhstan but here in New York, hell in Vought.” her hands started to shake as everything came apart, the fortress she built for her stupid emotions - breaking, the block she built for the scenes she witnessed - crumbling, and the façade she had prepared for the confrontation - disintegrated the moment his eye latched itself onto her soul again. 

She only just managed to pry him off. Only just.

“The deep told me that I was imagining things you know, I never really liked him because you always told me he was weird like Translucent. But he’s sweet, once you look past the obvious, Kevin is an honest guy.” she was ranting, her nervousness made her skittish. 

“Who the fuck is Kevin?” he sounded offended like she was keeping a secret from him, something he never allowed. 

‘Another red flag (Y/N)!’

“The deep! His name is Kevin, because unlike you I asked. Unlike you I'm not selfish and care about others!” it hurt to raise her voice; it was still sore from the days she spent weeping, “Unlike you I don’t lie to the people I love.” her façade was long gone now, in pieces at her feet along with the wish that it was all a lie, a game that everyone but her knew the rules to. 

“(Y/N), please let me just explain-” 

“No!” she charged forward as she cut him off, she stood closer to him this time within arms reach of him and yet she wasn’t focused on the familiar scent assaulting her nose again. No, she was focusing on anything but that. “Because I already know everything.” 

(E/C) eyes bore into the labyrinth of oceanic blue, if eyes were a window to the soul then he had his locked and blinded a long time again because she now realised that glimmer she once admired was merely the reflection of her own soul, the one he latched onto and bled dry since the first day he met her. 

“You told me that you only loved me, that you only kissed me. That you only touched me. So John imagine my surprise when I see you doing those, those things to Ms Stillwell. You lied to me when you said nothing was going on and I was stupid enough to believe you.”

Red filled her vision as the wisps slowly encased her hands, the rage she was feeling was otherworldly as the look of shock washed over his face. He thought he was slick enough for it to go unnoticed this whole time. She knew, deep down she knew. She just didn’t want their perfect bubble to burst. 

“(Y/N), baby, let me explain.” his gloveless hands slowly, cautiously came up and caressed her cheek. He wiped the tear that trickled down, it felt loving. Familiar. 

“I did it to protect us, to protect you.” 

“I’m a warrior, John. I don’t need protection.” his grip grew more firm at her words, as the rain started to pick up again battering down against their naked flesh. Her clothes were sticking to her frame, so was his suit but he didn’t care because he came for one thing and he held it in his hands. Held her in his hands. 

“From Madelyn you do, she's everything at her fingertips. Her and Edgar are close. She has a request and I follow.” he sounded desperate, like he needed her to understand and she did. She understood that everything that came out of his mouth was a fuckling lie and she had been manipulated to the point where Kevin called it Stockholm Syndrome without the kidnapping. 

____ 

“The obsession he has over you is not as much as the one he made you develop, all he needs is to take you to a remote cabin in the woods and you have a classic case of Stockholm (Y/N).”  Her feet swung solemnly in the air as she sat on top of the table, it was slowly coming together, the pieces of the well scattered puzzle were being found, and as it pained her to put it together she had to know. 

A sob left her throat as she came to the realisation of how much she depended on ‘America’s No.1’ she spent almost every waking hour with him, she only just came to know The Deep’s name. Kevin, his name was Kevin Moskowitz and it was a really nice name. If John was still here he would be livid to find the two of them sat so closely, but over the past five days Kevin had become a breath of fresh air for her. 

“It’s hard I understand, you spent a lot of time with him. But now that he’s not here clouding your judgement you’ll be able to see how fucked up it is.” her vision became blurry with the amount of tears forcing themselves out, she didn’t want to admit it but it was true. 

“I love him, and I don’t know what to do.” she hiccuped as she wiped the snot from her nose with her wrist, she looked forward as she remembered everything she had been through in the past 76 hours. The moment she walked into the meeting room and saw John balls deep in Madelyn’s cunt is the moment everything halted. Her flight or fight reflexes kicked in a moment too late, because she can still vividly picture the look on their faces, the sounds they were making and the stench of sex. 

But what traumatised her was the look Madelyn gave her, a look of victory, achievement. She knew what she was doing as she maintained eye contact as she kissed John, as she moaned loudly as she came for him. It was all (Y/N) needed to turn around and numbly walk out of there. And for the next 76 hours everything started to reveal itself too fast for her to comprehend. 

“What do I do?” she whimpered quietly as she watched the sun shine through the window, she was surprised that she was able to maintain that small amount of control to keep the storm at bay. It was fitting really, the whirlwind of emotions inside her was crushing like a constant tsunami drowning her again and again, uncontrollably. And yet she was able to control everything outside perfectly, without a hitch. 

“You look pitiful, sitting here looking out the window, all you really need now is for a violin to start playing for you (Y/N),” his voice broke her out of her realisation, she smiled as she looked over to him accepting her fate. And with that she felt the dam break again, because in all honesty the plaster she used to temporarily patch it up with was bound to come undone at some point. She let her head fall to his shoulder as she went through break down No.32 and there in that moment she was glad that Kevin was there for her, she was glad someone was there for her. 

____

(Y/N) looked up at his devastatingly lucid blues, she could see her reflection as the lighting erupted in the sky. She looked ethereal with the way her eyes shone with tears, almost poetic. 

Her hand came up to caress his cheek, her thumb stroking his cheek bone out of habit.  It reminded her of that night, where she let him undo her piece by piece. Delicate kisses and hands traced her skin like porcelain, she was at her most vulnerable in that moment; bare for him, laid out on his bed with her heart practically in her hands. She remembered the words he whispered to her as she drowned in the most euphoric wave she had ever felt. The skills he had with his tongue and hands had her a whimpering puddle by the time he settled himself between her legs, the sweet stretch of him is something she never got used to. 

But there in that moment, the two of them became closer than they had ever been. She realised in that moment the love and adoration she felt for this man was overpowering, catastrophic. 

“You know John,” the hopefulness that shone in his eyes was almost pitiful, it tugged at her heartstring. 

But she cut those off herself 76 hours ago. 

“What my love?” His caress softened as he leaned in closer, their forehead touching. 

“I can’t believe I was infatuated with a bastard like you.” 

Her heart stuttered as the words echoed back to her, the venom in her voice was evident she could tell by the passive look that overtook his feature. Everything stood still for a second too long as his breathe stuttered as he exhaled. 

“You don’t mean that. Right (Y/N)?” His question was left unanswered the first time. The softness in his voice petrified the woman in question. But she remained firm. 

Suddenly, without warning that loving hand slid down from her cheek and nestled itself against the side of her neck. His thumb ran firmly up and down the length of her trachea. 

He applied pressure as he asked again, “you don’t mean it baby, do you?” He whined as her eyes narrowed, daring him to continue. He let go when he realised what he was doing ‘this is no way to win her back.’

He mumbled an apology and carded his fingers rough through his hair, but gave up as the rain continued to battle against him. He paced backward, his hand settled on his hips as he rambled anxiously, hoping anything he said could at least please (Y/N). 

“Your right I shouldn’t have lied, but you have to believe me,” her face told him it wasn’t working. 

“I’ve always wanted what’s best for you,” not this either. 

“I need you to trust me, what I did-“ or this.

“(Y/N), please! I love you.” His eyes widened when he saw her look up at him. Her (E/C) eyes appeared crystallised with the tear that houses themselves in her orbs. He sucked in a sharp breath as she came closer to him, her bottom lip trembling as she opened her mouth to confess her love and come back to him. 

“Fuck you.” 

‘No, no! That’s not right!’ 

He surged forward before he thought twice about his movements. Hands wrapping around her beautiful neck he squeezed hard, rage filled his vision as he watched her eyes. Her bewitching eyes stared into his. His mind was floating on the edge of fantasy and reality, he needed her. His (Y/N). 

‘It’s okay my love, you just didn’t know what you were talking about’ 

Her hands clawed at his wrists clambering on for any kind of purchase, her ears were filled with the sounds of her desperation to breathe, to live. 

The storm around them grew angrier, thunder screeched as it tumbled through the sky, the rain turned abusive with how hard it hit the ground. (Y/N) closed her eyes, feeling the burn of her lover's hand on her neck getting tighter and tighter with each passing second. Unexpectedly a flash of light causes her eyes to open, lighting strikes the ground around them. In a dance, illuminating the poetic end to its master. Each strike shook the ground they stood on but he didn’t move, no he knew that no matter the pain he put (Y/N) through she would never hurt him. 

And she knew the same. 

So without a thought she put her hands down, and let the last breath leave her wrecked body. Her battered soul sagged in relief as the fight she had been dragging her body through ended. She didn’t care anymore, the warrior’s armour had broken and an arrow had pierced her heart and wrenched it out her chest. That pain that she thought was eternal, faded away as each millisecond passed.

She closed her eyes and was finally at peace. 

“No, no, no, no!” He dropped her in terror. He stared at his hands as he came to the realisation of what he’d just done. 

‘No, no, no!’ 

John dropped to his knees and quickly grabbed (Y/N)’s head and placed it on his chest, he wailed as her limp body fell against his chest. This wasn’t supposed to happen, how did he lose control so quickly? 

“(Y/N)?” He gently tapped her cheek, watching as her skin rippled at the small force. He couldn’t see properly with the rain invading his vision, how did he lose control so quickly? 

“(Y/N),” his voice grew quiet as he wiped the water off her face, she looked so peaceful. So beautiful. 

But the disfigurement of her neck screamed at him, taunting him for what he did to his love. 

His (Y/N). 

“Shhh, my dove. It’s okay,” he right hand caressed the back of her head as he fell backward and sat onto the floor, his left arm wrapped round the rest of her body as he gently rocked back and forth, whispering her favourite song under his breath. 

He needs the distraction. Because how did he lose control so quickly? 

____

“‘I've got sunshine on a cloudy day, When it's cold outside, I've got the month of May.’” Warm arms wrapped around her waist as she finished mixing the eggs. A smile graced itself onto her face as she turned her head to the side, a laugh followed the kiss that was placed sloppily on her cheek. 

“What song are you singing, dove?” His voice vibrated through her whole body as he walked around the island and sat opposite her, to admire his favourite view. She gasped as her (E/C) eyes snapped to his face, her covered in a look of offence. 

“You don’t know my favourite song?” She waved the whisk accusingly at John, a smile replacing the offended look plastered on her face when he got egg remnants on his forehead. 

“You don’t sing for me often, I didn’t know you had a nice voice,” he was smooth with the diversion, smooth enough that it had her face heating. She stuck her tongue out at John and quickly turned around to place the eggs into the pan; the sudden compliment had her heart stuttering, the breath knocked out of her lungs. 

She jumped as a hand crept round and brushed the hair from the left side of her face, it was soon replaced by a pair of soft lips kissing the shell of her ear tentatively, a hand followed suit and delicately placed itself on the curve of her hips. Careful of the bruises from last night's activities, it slithered round the small bulge of her stomach and settled on the other side, only to slowly pull her into his frame. 

“Can I please know your favourite song, I wanna know everything about my girl,” his sentence was followed by a shout of laughter. It startled him. He wasn’t expecting that response. 

The body between his hands turned around and placed her hand in his hips, she tipped her head backwards so she could see him. That smile turned tenfold as it stretched across the expanse of her glowing face. 

“My Girl.” (Y/N) mumbled lazily as she squeezed John, giggling at the confusion that filled his eyes. 

“‘I guess you'd say, What can make me feel this way

My girl.’ The song is called My Girl.” 

They swayed gently as she sang softly, in bliss wrapped in the arms of her one and only. She could never be more content. More at peace, here with her home. 

Her sanctuary. 

____

His bleary eyes looked down at his Dove, glowing in the light that illuminated the sky sporadically. 

“‘My girl, my girl, my girl, Talkin' 'bout my girl.” 

He sputtered as the tears fell, mixing with the rain that fell onto (Y/N)’s face. His (Y/N). The very one that made him lose control so quickly, he traced the outline of her face as if mapping every minute detail his scattered brain could remember in this moment. He lost control so quickly, and this was the one consequence he didn’t even think to imagine. 

“‘I've got sunshine on a cloudy day with my girl, I've even got the month of May with my girl’” he remembered the adoration painted on her face the day she sang her song for him, he thought it fitted her well because she was after all his girl. 

But he didn’t know how to live without his girl. 

But he didn’t want to think of that right now, so he sang her song as he gently swayed them. The only calm in the raging storm. He sang to her lovingly as he held her dead body in the one place she felt at peace. 

He gazed lovingly at her face; he lost control so quickly because she drove him mad. Insane. But he loves her no matter what. ‘How am I going to live without you?’ He brought his face closer to hers and gently kissed her still warm lips. 

The roar of the thunder brought him back to reality, he hugged her gently as he continued to sing, praying that somewhere, somehow she could still hear him as he sat with her in his hands. 

The very same hands that killed her. The very same hands that made her feel safe, that made her feel pleasure, pain, regret. The hands that made her vulnerable and courageous at the same time. The hand that strangled the life out of her here, in her safe space. 

“‘Talkin' 'bout my girl.” 

But really, there is no better place to die than your sanctuary.

________

Taglist 

@naniky​

Well, what a wonderful sight to see when I get back from work, let’s get into it.

Tagged by the wonderful - @juneyse

Favourite colour - yellow

Currently ready - Storm and Silence in Wattpad

Last Song - Blue World by Mac Miller

Last movie - Luca on Disney+

Last series - Doom at your Service, let me tell you Kdrama are out here ruining my life because this series had me emotionally vulnerable.

Coffee or tea - both

Currently working on - Siren’s lullaby 2, and some other stuff.

Tagging: @primavera-allegoria @flowerniche

tag nine people you’d like to catch up with or get to know better

tagged by: @jemilyisms

favorite color: mmm pastel purples and blues. i also love forest green and mustard yellow

currently reading: mostly fics but i’m making my way through slaughterhouse five (by kurt vonnegut if anyone’s unfamiliar)

last song: i think fuzzybrain by dayglow

last movie: kiki’s delivery service!

last series: 9-1-1

coffee or tea: tea but i looove the taste of coffee especially with caramel in it… chef’s kiss

currently working on: school but also i have a few wips going (i have prosely, temily, tenelope and tenemily prompts laying around)

no pressure tags: @prentissbians @jj-arms @penemily @wrensumbreon @unitchiefs-blackbirdphoenix @crimmy @transpenelope @nonbinaryreid @vhsrights

Her

Chapter Three; HIRAETH

-  Welsh Noun ~ ‘The feeling of longing for a home that no longer exists or never was’.

Warning: language, blood, comatose state, death, mentions of human experiments, needles, mentions of sexual assault, other crimes , HYDRA, Misogyny, violence, bruises. 

W/C: 7K+

Summary: AU series where Bucky is safe and sound after AOU, (Y/N) (L/N) is a troubled woman with a haunting past, and it's coming back to enslave her. But she doesn’t care, her interest in a certain Captain America leads to a night that sets off a series of unfortunate twists and turns. Can she come out on the other side, with her past a secret and a family to come home to. Or will she burn and take everyone down with her.

inner thoughts for the reader are in bold italic

telepathic communication between people are in italic

[Masterlist]  Chapters: I Forest - II Crimson 

His breath was laboured, even though he ran to the compound from downtown New York three hours ago, his breath was stuttering like he still had asthma. The tightness of his chest was foreign and painful, making his whole body ache with each inhale and exhale he took. But his focus was on the woman lying in bed, skin so delicate he feared a simple kiss could break her into pieces. One would think that his reaction to a woman who never really talked to him was rather extreme, but those outside never really saw the tension, the unspoken feelings that surrounded them.

The broken humans out of time.

He watched as her skin softly glowed a crimson hue, he knew what her body was doing, fighting to keep her alive after that man attacked her. His eyes zoned onto the veins pulsating around her left cheekbone, where it was beginning to swell, he remembered what her body does. But sat there watching as it tried to repair itself, watching as it was washed over in thin and delicate crimson ribbons dancing around her like an intricate ballet, he still found it hard to believe that this woman that hardly talked to him was the closest thing he had to true love. His connection with her was beyond his unreciprocated feelings, his connection to her was always a mystery until she turned to him, vulnerability practically washing off of her, and told him what he’s always wanted to know.

“I’m a creation of the space stone, the Tesseract, I was the first to be experimented on by HYDRA. They did many things to me before they even found the Tesseract Steve, I am a child of HYDRA that’s why I never go near you.” He remembered her (E/C) eyes were wide as she watched him absorb the new information. He remembered how the air carried the unspoken words as he slowly started to process the information that he had just heard. “I know what they did to you, I know the hatred you have towards anything associated with that name. But I can’t keep lying to you because it is not okay, I need you to trust me. So, when we go back you can know anything you want, I’ve already told Fury to have the file ready.”

“FRIDAY?” His eyes remained glued to the sleeping beauty in front of him, eyes scanning the fragile figure laying on the bed in front of him in its comatose state.

“Yes Captain,” his grip on his knee tightened.

“Message Fury and Stark, tell them to meet me in the conference room, I want the file ready.” And without waiting for an answer from the AI he got up and left. The room became too claustrophobic with all the beeping and his thoughts, the thoughts that immediately ceased the moment he stepped foot into that room. His whole body ceased when he watched the sun graciously envelope (Y/N) in its embrace; if the current circumstances weren't current, he would have found it so breathtakingly beautiful. But like always the universe decided to screw both of them over.

As he ran out of her apartment, heart seizing and stomach churning, his mind constantly played scenarios over and over again in his head, he didn’t care that he just up and left her with no warning – she didn’t even realise what had happened, she got scared by the glass smashing and the door slamming shut a minute later. What he did care about was that (Y/N) was alive and going off of the tone Bucky had when he was one the phone, his hopes were looking down.

Before he knew it, he was standing at the doorway into the conference room, both the men he requested were present. Shoulders tense and faces contorted into something that made Steve’s stomach churn.

“I want to know everything.” His bulky frame took up the doorway, the vein on his forehead protruding violently as he forced himself to resist all urges to brake. He watched the two men look at each other, eyes and bodies making an unknown conversation.

“Sit down Captain.”

Fury’s simple statement left no room for questioning, so the Captain did what he was told. He sat, and not a second later a file was gently pushed in front of him.

The brown dossier that was placed in front of him caused his eyebrows to rise in disbelief. After the constant bemoaning from Stark about how he had to digitalise all of Shields and the Avengers file, he expected to have a tablet in front of him. But the almost decaying papers that lay right before his eyes told him otherwise.

“This is the only file, and I mean it. I had Romanoff, Barton and Stark up-turn every corner of this planet to make sure of that.” The one-eyed man had a softness to his voice as he sat opposite the Captain, his arm lay in front of him on the glass table, fist repeatedly clenching.

Stark cleared his throat as he sat next to Steve, his hand came out and shakingly ran through his locks. His voice broke, a threat that his emotions weren’t as held down as he thought.

“Steve, nothing we discuss can be spoken outside of this room. Confidential doesn’t even begin to describe our situation,” he looked Steve in the eyes and a pained smile graced itself onto his face, “Cap, please. Trust me when I say that this was kept from you for good reasons.” For the first time since Steve met Tony, Steve could confidently say there was a seriousness that came from the billionaire playboy.

And it didn’t make the situation any better.

“So, we will answer any questions you have now, and only now. Because the moment we walk out of this room, we never even had the conversation.” Without another word, Stark reached forward and hesitantly opened the file that held the most precious thing Steve would ever get to see; (Y/N)’s life. And the first few words that met his eyes made his heart and soul plummet to the ground.

Name: (Y/N) Schmidt/ Stark

DoB; 31st October 1913

Birthplace; Berlin, Germany

Parents: Unknown.

Alias(es)- Ghost, Crimson, Sparky, Diavoliță.

Abilities: Enhanced strength, speed/reflexes, and healing. Tests found that she has traces of the Super Soldier Serum, different to Erskine’s formula. Tests have yet to figure out what the compound is.

His eyes zeroed in on a specific sentence, his forehead creasing told the two men that the Captain’s fantasy of (Y/N) was slowly fading into the harsh reality that everyone was trying to run from. The blonde’s fingers traced the picture of (Y/N) that was clipped to the side, he didn’t even realise he was doing it until a sharp sting made him flinch.

“Fuck,” he quickly brought his thumb to his mouth and sucked the blood oozing out of the small papercut, he looked over as Tony and raised his eyebrows in a silent question. But it went unanswered.

Something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, in big bold letters sat the truth that he forced himself to know. He felt stupid as he let the words sink in, ‘should’ve just kept your mouth shut punk’ and yet here he was.

Cutting every thread, he had tethered onto his fantasy that (Y/N) was just playing some sick joke, and everyone but him knew. Because he’d rather be embarrassed than this.

Anything.

Soldier of HYDRA for 75 years.

“She was one of them, like Buck?” His voice was quiet, but it filled the silent room.

“She actually met him in ’51, met Nat at some point in the 90’s and me about 3 years later.” Stark's voice did not match the tone of the room, he was too happy as he reminisced the old conversation he had with (Y/N), he remembered how she saved him from getting hit by a car, seeing that he was drunk and decided to walk him to the nearest diner. That was twenty miles away.

“Stark, I’m glad you find this amusing right now. But at least try to let Captain Rogers come to terms with this.” The one-eyed mad finally spoke, his face remained stoic as he mediated the situation. With a quick glance to both men, he cleared his throat and sat up.

He wasn’t comfortable with this, but (Y/N) requested that it had to be done.

“Stark, the screen.” A sound of exclamation came from the man in question as he moved over to a table behind him, a projector sat atop the table, light flashing signalling it’s ready to be used. From where Steve was sitting, he couldn’t really see what Tony was doing but all of a sudden, the room darkens and the wall to his left lights up with a series of pictures.

“Can’t risk having FRIDAY in the room so it's old school I’m afraid.” The brunette manoeuvred himself, so he stood to the side of the projector, closer to Steve. He clutched the remote in his right hand as he gazed at the pictures of (Y/N) plastered on the screen in front of him.

His heart stuttered as he noticed how different she looked, the pictures were in black and white, but he could still tell how damaged she looked, the lines on her face looked deeper and more pronounced, her skin didn’t look as smooth as it normally does. And her (E/C) eyes.

He gulped back the lump in his throat and quickly looked away. He had seen these pictures so many times before, but it still had the same effect on him. His gut wrenched and he had to look away to stop the bile from rising up.

All the needles, straps, cages, tables, and other contraptions always made sure to leave an impression in your mind. No matter how many times you’ve seen them. He had to speak before he lost his voice because it wouldn’t be the first time.

“Um, I will start from the beginning. “He pressed the button and the image of Johan Schmidt greeted them. “I am guessing you know who that is?”

His question was met with a nod from Steve, whose eye never strayed from the screen.

“Johan Schmidt, father of HYDRA. Known as the Red Skull, why are you asking me this Tony?” his blue eyes strayed from the screen to meet Stark's sombre gaze.

“Because fuck. When (Y/N) was five years old his soldiers slaughtered everything and everyone she had. And for some fucked up reason he – Schmidt, decided that he would keep her,” the look he received from Steve was enough to have him shuffling in his spot.

He didn’t dwell on it and quickly moved onto the next few slides, but his eyes glazed over as he relayed his next facts.

The lump in his throat grew bigger.

“She was trained privately and in 1934 he had her assassinate Kaufmann. Not long after, he created the group we all know as HYDRA, with her as his prize weapon. But he kept her off record, I don’t know why yet. I think it’s because, if shit went sideways, he could escape with her, but others think it was because he secretly loved he which I personally think is bullshit an- “

“Stark!” Fury’s stare made no room for error, so Tony stopped his nervous rambling and stretched his neck signing in relief as his joints popped. The tension eased, but only by a fraction.

But that is all he needed.

“Sorry, um. So, Schmidt had Zola and other scientists experimenting on her for some time, at some point we think they had Erskine use her as a test subject for the serum because we found trace compounds of it in her system. But it’s not the same as the one you have coursing through your veins Cap.” The picture changed to show what looked like a class picture of fifteen girls.

They all stood, faces stoic, wearing identical plain uniformed dresses. Steve thought it was just an ordinary school picture, until Tony opened his mouth.

“1931, this is (Y/N), in the red room.”

Oh, how Steve wished he remained naïve. His head snapped towards Tony and then to Fury, who hasn’t said more than one word since this presentation started. A million thoughts ran through his head, he was barely able to understand one before it was replaced with another. Constant questions and make believe solutions spun around, giving his brain whiplash.

“I thought that was the USSR’s, especially during those time?” his question was quickly answered by Stark bringing up another series of pictures. But this time, it was new articles headlines ranging from the disappearance of a Politician to a dog being found.

“It was, but they say the potential (Y/N) had is one of the reasons they allowed her in. The experiments she went under, including the serum, gave her incredible strength and agility. They used her to assassinate political leaders, rebellion leaders, celebrities, royal families, presidents, and prime ministers. She was a weapon. Add to the fact that they somehow managed to slow down her biological clock, they had everything they needed in just one person.”

More news articles appeared each showing someone dead or missing, some of them weren’t even anyone of importance. A history teacher, to the leader of some upcoming political party. The strings connecting these people weren’t visible to the naked eye, but Steve knew HYDRA, and he knew that somehow that small town history teacher was connected to the bigger picture. But what confused him the most was how secretive HYDRA was about (Y/N), all these slides full of HYDRA’s plans and information and yet not a single one of them showed or mentioned anything in depth about (Y/N). When it came to Bucky, Sam was able to find breadcrumbs – it was hard, but he was able to find something.

But this.

This was a whole other underground network within HYDRA.

Steve hates to admit it but he was impressed.

“Stark I think it is best if you show Captain Rogers how Ms Stark got her abilities. You explain it better than I do.” His voice surprised Steve, Fury’s leather jacket filled up the silence as he moved. His hand came up and motioned to Tony to move onwards. And somewhere deep in his gut Steve knew things were going to get worse.

“Right, sorry Sir.” With a quick mock salute Tony pressed through five more slides before he reached the one he was looking for.  A pixelated image took up the screen, seconds later it started to move. The sound of static overtook the sound of laboured breathing in the room, and then the image came to life.

The sound of static quickly turned into sounds of humming and voices. And then a figure entered the screen. Arnim Zola stared back at them, his smirk taking up his tiny face.

“The date is the 12th of August, the year is 1942.” His accent seemed thicker as it boomed through the speakers, his body remained frozen before it jumped suddenly as it quickly went off screen before the whole camera moved. Steve noticed two things; the first was that the big blue glowing machine was what he feared it was, the Tesseract. And the second thing he noticed was that it was placed into a big contraption – a massive cylinder, where the Tesseract was put, and four big tubes protruding out the bottom of the cylinder leading off screen.

“I have finalised the machine and am confident that today's test will make our weapon stronger than ever. The machine I have created will extract the essence – the power of the Tesseract and form it into a compound long enough to be able to be put into the Assets blood. I have worked out every variable and this, this right here. This is what will bring HYDRA out from Hitler’s shadow.” His body was walking all over the lab, he would disappear off the screen and come back with things, fixing things, and preparing everything.

 Steve’s gut feeling got worse the longer his eyes remained on the video of Zola running around. His ears picked up the sound of a door opening, but his eyes couldn’t find the source of that noise. He watched as Zola’s face brightened up signalling to the Captain that someone special had just entered the room. His body tensed when Schmidt came into view followed by a familiar figure.

Steve’s head snapped to the side, throwing a questioning glance towards Tony who only shook his head in defeat. Reluctantly, Steve turned his eyes back to the screen, noting how both Tony and Fury were looking anywhere but the screen at this current moment.

“Is everything ready Zola?”

“Jawohl [yes sir], everything is set and ready to go,” Steve’s blues eyes intently watched as Schmidt turned to the woman behind him, the same woman who was a floor below them in the medical bay fighting for her life. Steve's heart could barely watch the interaction that was happening on the screen in front of him, but some sick part of him made sure his eyes remained focused and alert.

“(Y/N), you know what to do.”

“Jawohl.”

Steve’s jaw was tense as he watched (Y/N) climb onto a metal table, the image was distributed as a collection of men came forward. His eyes hurt from the low quality and too many things happening at the same time. His heart rose up into his throat, drowning out all sounds as he numbly watched as needles stabbed themselves into her body.

Next thing he knew Zola had flipped some switches and the room was momentarily blinded with a bright blue light, it dulled before it could be seen travelling down the tube and into another cylinder mechanism before finagling being injected into (Y/N)’s body. The look on her face caused goosebumps to litter the back of his neck, the bile in his stomach made itself known again.

But the nauseating scream that left her mouth was what triggered the tears to come rushing out of his eyes, it was a sound that he never wanted to hear. But now that he had, he would never be able to unhear it.

“I can’t do this.” Quickly after the video stopped playing, drowning the room into a silent abyss.

No one moved, no one spoke.

Everyone’s eyes were on the frozen image of (Y/N), mouth wide and face contorted into a look of unspeakable pain, her body tense showing off the taunt muscles and scars that adorned her abdomen.

It took Steve a moment to look over at Stark, eyes and face washed over in sympathy for the man. He really wished he knew what to say, but he knows that if he opened his mouth a single word wouldn’t come out. He swallowed heavily, trying not to dwell too much on the matter. His thoughts weren’t in the right place.

They wouldn’t be for a while.

“She developed a power I know as Cosmokinesis – the ability to create , shape and manipulate cosmic energies to whatever she wants. Umm, she can do portals, force fields, she is telekinetic – you know like mind reading and shit.” Stark’s eyes looked distant as he stared at his shaking hands, his mind didn’t register what he was saying; it all just came naturally.

If he stopped now, even he didn’t know. He hasn’t gotten much sleep.

“You know, including the everyday molecular restructuring and transmutation of matter, the Tesseract made her aware of everything. She’s connected to it, the battle of New York with Loki and shit made it really hard to keep her stable. She was frozen repeatedly and moved constantly when you became a threat to them, she told me that her powers were a lovely purple. But the constant training from HYDRA and mind shit caused something in her to shift.” He didn’t care if the other two were listening, he needed to talk, he needed to feel like he was doing something.

He looked up at Steve, eyes burning with unshed tears.

“She was on a mission in Russia, her target was some uprising political figure trying to pass a bill that would undermine everything HYDRA had worked for. She was so overworked and tired that she got so angry when they kept on fighting back. She had her first Surge, her powers…she.” He roughly rubbed his face with his hands, a sob escaped his lips as he remembered the video he found when he was scouring the HYDRA archives in a facility in Moscow.

The thoughts pounded him until he could barely hang on. His thread was close to snapping.

“She killed twenty four soldiers, 16 women and 9 children. Without a thought, in the wrong state of mind her powers are chaos and destruction. And HYDRA used that to their advantage, she would be conditioned into that mindset before missions. Her and Barnes were HYDRAs dream team.” He couldn’t help himself and let out a chuckle as he imagined the duo’s theme tune. But his thoughts were cut short when the one-eyed man made himself known.

“Twenty-two.” Steve raised an eyebrow in question.

“Twenty-two what?” he watched as Fury and Tony exchanged a look between them before Tony tiredly gestured to Fury to continue.

“She went on twenty-two missions like that, in their reports they called it a ‘blood thirst’. Those purple colours turned into the crimson ones you know today. Her last mission was in 1993 with Barnes recovering Vibranium from a Johan Carsten .” His eye patch didn’t stop the look that haunted his features. His forehead creased, making it look like he was trying to bring forth the memory. But in reality, he was trying to forget it, the precise details his brain stored troubled his slumber frequently.

“Stark met her six months after she escaped and over time helped remove any traces of HYDRA. Changed her surname, helped her with her abilities. Worked on a suppressant so she wouldn’t surge again.” He released a sigh as he stood and walked towards the projector, turning it off he waited until Tony turned the lights back on before he started talking. But his voice sounded empty, like the meaning behind it had long been lost.

“When I first came to Stark, I had no clue of the power she possessed. Until Stark called when the threat of the Mandarin became too much, we struck up a deal that only myself, Stark, Barton, and Romanoff know about. When you met her in 2012, under the information that she was an intel assist – that was true. To some extent of course.” His forehead was shining under the harsh light. It took every ounce of him to remain firm, when the news broke out of (Y/N)’s attack himself and Maria were unsure at first but the sight of her lying in that bed made him refuse to believe it.

But when he entered the compound the haunting silence confirmed all he needed to know.

Steve listened as Fury unloaded all the details the man could remember and asked all the questions he deemed vital to know.

“What happened in New York?” Steve vaguely remembered hearing (Y/N) shouting at Tony as he walked past on his way to the training facility, he wasn’t that interested because minutes later he heard the wonderful sound of her laughter echoing after him.

“I didn’t want to chance her being around the tesseract, so I sedated her when it came to fighting Loki and his alien boyband. She saw me falling out of the portal and had a surge that caused most of the destruction to the tower.” Tony’s body moved faster than his brain could understand. His legs brought him up from his chair and over to one of the windows that overlooked the vast gardens of the compound.

Something Tony knew the team was extremely happy to see when they visited the grounds when the compound was under construction. The garden not only offered a valuable training space for the recruits and the team, it also became a safe space for those who needed a breath of fresh air that the tower didn’t provide. The forest that shadowed the compound was a frequent place everyone often visited, the smell of nature was a comfort to them – along with the sound of the birds and small critters. The sound of thunder brought his eyes up to the darkening sky.

‘Thor must be back’ 

The God of Thunder left to see if he could find some healing medicine on Asgard, anything to help (Y/N) and speed up her recovery. Anything. 

When his hopeful gaze focused back onto the sky he found his breath halting, the once blue sky had now turned dark and gloomy, the sun had been covered by dark clouds loudly screaming their anger and frustration out into the world, he could almost hear Thor’s voice crying out amongst the thunder, and the sound of the rain becoming heavier caused his brown eyes to look right in front of him, the sight of the raindrops cascading down the windows ceased all thoughts and feelings of hope. He knew then and there that not knowing was much better than knowing the simplest of things. 

That all the prayers and promises he made to a faceless omnipotent being was for nothing, because that powerful thing was supposed to care for its creation and here it is letting the most precious one live out the most gruelling life and still has the audacity to let her die a painful death. “Why do you have to make her suffer? why ?” his pitiful whisper was answered with a clash of thunder. Even the God of Thunder understood a mere-mortals disappear. 

Tony let his tears go, he made no effort to mask his sorrow, his vulnerability, his anxiety. He let the rain accompany his salty tears as they both fell to the ground together and puddled beneath him. The constant cycle he has been living in for the past two days have been agonising but he deserved it, he needed to feel something. He couldn’t sleep because whenever he closed his eyes he saw her lying on the floor, the sounds she was making followed him around - haunting him every hour of the day. But he deserved the pain, because he can’t do anything. 

“Fucking useless!” his palm shot forward and hit the window once, twice and before he could hit it for the third time a hand caught his and held it firmly, Tony turned quickly and through his bleary vision he was able to make out Steve’s haunted face. His eyes lost their sparkle, he looked worse than the battle of Sokovia. “I can’t do anything to help her, Rogers, and I promised her that I’d keep her safe.” his free hand came up and roughly wiped at his tears, but more took their place. “I promised,” his body was forced forward and the warm embrace shocked him at first but he was too tired to fight it. He let his body go slack and cried, everything he had been held in came undone, the weight on his shoulders became too much to bear, the whispers that followed him became too loud. But here, now in the arms of his friend he felt safe enough to let it all go.

So he let it go, he let the world around him know the weight he had been trapped under. He let the world know that he too was suffering. And his cries were a testimony to the pain he is in. 

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March 19th 2015,

Ground floor, New Avengers Compound, Upstate New York.

“He’s an associate of HYDRA, he’s known for dealing in weapons, ammunition and biochemical weapons,” her red hair was immaculately straight, she made a show of brushing it before she came into the interrogation room with Barton. She didn’t want the man to gain any pleasure from seeing her stressed. She did want that man to scream though. 

“I’d say more of a prize jewel.” his teeth were red from the dried blood but that was the most pleasing feature about his face at the moment. He looked as if he was trying to smirk but the swelling of his face prevented him, but it didn’t stop the crazy bastard. 

“Tell me how, why.” the man in question looked over to the man perched in the corner, the shadows covered the majority of his figure but the fierceness of his eyes pierced through. His voice was hoarse, run down by the hours he spent awake and screaming orders at anything that blocked his path. 

“And why should I do that? I’m assuming your good cop and Ms Romanoff here is a bad cop,” his hand slapped the table, laughing at his own joke. The smile on his face showed the two Avengers that he wasn’t scared, but they knew he was lying. Natasha grabbed the chair and turned it around, she swung her leg over and sat down - never once breaking eye contact with the man in front of her, with her arms resting on the back of the chair in front of her she felt the corner of her mouth slither up. “I’m the good cop.” Before she could finish her sentence Barton leaped across the room and grabbed the man by the back of his neck and slammed his face into the table. The smirk on his face had been replaced with a blabbering mouth, apologies and excuses spewing out. 

“He’s the bad cop.” 

The weasel of a man let out a little whimper as he frantically nodded his head, his pleads started small then became louder when Barton’s grip tightened around his neck. His body shook under the unspoken threat. Natasha scoffed as she watched this excuse of a HYDRA soldier fumble his words. 

‘Pathetic, we didn’t even get to the good stuff.’

“Start talking,” Clint snarled at the man as he quickly released his clutch on his neck. He stood and waited but when incorrhent noise continued to come out of his mouth he pounced forward and grabbed him, “Start. Talking.” the venom in his voice shocked Natasha. 

She understood the thoughts running through his head, she had the same ones pulsating throughout hers. The wretched feeling of not knowing what was going to happen had the both of them at a loss, so when Tony ordered that no stone was to be left unturned when it came to this man; they brought destruction upon any known source. She vividly remembers the years she had spent with (Y/N) in the red room, she also remembers the pain (Y/N) went through. The rare laugh they shared, the comfort (Y/N) brought to her younger self. 

“Alright, what do you want to know?” His voice was meek as he looked down upon his shaking hands, he could feel the weight of Clint's gaze. 

“Why, how. I want to know everything and don’t spare a fucking detail.” She tilted her head to the side as she spoke, the intent was something that had the whole team grasping at straws - the information they found looked to be the key to everything but this proved how looks can be deceiving. She reached to her left and picked up the tablet, the screen was filled with data and whatever else they could collect. Her green eyes flickered to the words displayed ‘Re-Gen’ she slid the tablet over to him and pointed at the word. 

“What is this? It’s all over your files.” her eyebrows arched in question. 

“Re-Gen was the future for HYDRA, when we failed to recreate the serum after the winter soldier was created, we realised that we had the two most powerful weapons under our own hand. So we decided to do In Vitro Fertilisation; we extracted the sperm and the eggs, but that method failed as the machines we had back then were inadequate. So, the decision was made to try it the ‘good old fashioned way’” 

Clint exhaled harshly, he could feel his face paling as the thoughts processed within his head. 

“We took DNA samples, but that is as far as we got. She escaped before we could further the project.”  The nervous chuckle floated into the tense atmosphere as he looked at the two agents staring into his soul, “I say ‘we’ but I wasn’t exactly there. I’m a freelancer and offer me more cash than my current employees and I will be loyal to you until someone else comes along,” his rambling was cut short when Natasha cleared her throat, he muttered to himself and quickly scratched his head praying that the information they were seeking flowed quickly to his brain. 

“They came over, told me they had some covert agent collect a current sample and they had me run it with the one they had from the project. I noticed the different compounds right away and with further testing found it to be a suppressant. I asked what for, you know, but they didn’t tell me.” he wiped at his brow, that was becoming caked in sweat. He could feel his stomach tighten with the thought of what's to come. He wasn’t made for this lifestyle. 

‘I should’ve stayed in the fucking I.T department.’ 

“I made the drug, it’s design is to break down the compounds of the suppressant. They asked me to be the one to carry out the OP because I'm not on any of your radars. And let me tell you when I saw what she looked like, oh baby,” his eyes glazed over at the mention of (Y/N), the pictures he had been given for reference had captivated him from the start. The beauty was indescribable, he spent hours looking at her face, it wasn’t really needed because he would be able to pick her apart the moment his eye laid upon her figure. The smile that graced her face made him feel so, so happy to be alive. 

His clouded gaze was suddenly clear as his face was forced to the side. He flexed his jaw when the pain crept its way along his nerves, tentatively touching his jaw he let his shaking fingers graze the already swollen bone. Quietly he looked to the culprit, his eye twitched when he saw Barton observing him fiercely, his own eye held a storm of emotions. 

“I’m sorry, I got carried away there.” Barton clenched his fists, his knuckles tingled - a reminder of his impulsivity. But nowhere in his soul did he regret punching him, again. 

“It’s okay.” Damien's voice was small, a clear contrast to the man that was sitting in the chair 40 seconds ago, he was facing away from Barton with his shoulders hunched to make himself look smaller in Barton's presence. It was something Natasha noticed right away, when she was looking through the files they had on this ‘Damien’ she noticed the staggering amount of priors against him - from stalking, assault, to fraud and cyber crimes. Out of everything she found two things odd: one being that they only went as far as the courts, with the prosecution always backing out either from lack of evidence or some NDA was signed; the second thing was that a staggering amount of his crimes were against the opposite sex, the violent and assault crimes were mainly female populated. But the weaker crimes like fraud and Cyber crime where he could appear faceless involved more men. 

‘Misogynistic piece of shit.’ She remembered the look on his face when Bucky had him held up against the wall, the look of fear was immense in his glassed eyes, the speckles of blue in his emerald eyes were more prominent when he was afraid. She remembered thinking how a man so cowardly could do this to someone else. But when Bucky left her alone with him to check on (Y/N), she saw the gleam return to his eyes. The way he sized her up and then licked his split lip told her all she needed to know. 

She leant forward making sure to exaggerate her cleavage, she held back her smirk when she noticed his eyes flash to it, she tilted her head to the side and pouted, “did he hurt you?” Her voice was delicate and innocent as she asked him. Without waiting for an answer, she swiftly walked over to him and purposely crouched down beside him. Her eyes scanned his face slowly, charting out every feature she could make out. 

“Can you tell me what you were planning to do with her? Please, I won't let him hurt you?” she didn’t even recognise her own voice the moment it left her mouth, it sounded too sweet, but she knew what she was doing as she made every few minutes to shyly look away from him. 

The glimmer of malicious intent told her everything she needed to know. 

“When I was finished with my little taster, I was going to send her to Yerik Kuznetsov, he was the one who wanted her.” 

“Why?” her chest began to constrict, the heaviness returned before she could ask anything else. A feeling she hadn’t felt in some time crept tauntingly up her spine, the air felt heavy. 

“He was the one to create the subdivision after the fall of HYDRA, he found the files containing Project Re-Gen. But that is all I know.” His voice cracked under the threat of Barton’s presence, his body started to shake the moment Natasha lifted herself up and walked back to the other side of the table. Damien realised his safety blanket was slowly becoming thinner and thinner the longer the two agents stayed quiet. Trembling fingers hastily wrapped around his chain and snapped it off his neck, his serenity. It was everything he had, and that was the reason why he stalled contemplating his decision. 

“Everything you need is on this USB,” he cupped his hands out towards Natasha, not even sparing Barton a glance. He presented it as if it were a precious jewel - to him it was more, and as Natasha took it from his hands he let a sigh of relief tumble past his chapped lips when a small smile graced her face. 

‘I’m safe.’

“You’ll let me go now right, give me a deal. I gave you everything you asked for.” The hope in his voice was almost pathetic, his face looked obscured - a swollen right eye was concealed behind the swollen tissue, his skin was littered in purples, blues and yellows, his nose and cheekbones appeared crooked - but the two Avengers could clearly see the false hope they had installed in the man. But not one of them felt guilty as they looked at each other. Not one of them paid him any mind as they started packing away. 

“You promised you’d keep me safe.” Not one of them listened to the whining of the man sitting in front of them, wrist bound to the table, as his voice grew louder and louder out of frustration or fear. The anger in his voice started to become more and more evident as he realised he wasn’t being listened to, he became enraged. 

“You fucking bitch, when I get out of here. I swear I am going to make you bleed!” Spit flew out of his mouth as he growled at Natasha, the noises started to become animalistic as he tried to break free of his chains, the commotion almost blocked out the sound of his façade breaking. 

Almost. 

Natasha spared one look at the man, she left nothing for him, she had no energy left. She hardly blinked when their eyes met, the venom in his hardly surprised her. It was expected eventually, the thought brought a smile to her face at the predictability. The noise of his struggle ripped her from her thoughts, and without much of a care she shouted at him to stop and watched as his nostril flared. 

With a sweet smile she spoke to him as if he were a baby.

“I said I won't let him hurt you,” She moved out of the way and let Wanda enter through the door, “I never said I’d let her hurt you though.” She lightly patted Wanda on the shoulder as she walked out the door, raising an eyebrow as the room flashed a bright red before the doors closed. 

She walked away to the sounds of Damien’s wailing cascading against the walls. And as she walked away a thought occurred to her, one that lifted the weight on her chest, the fatigue no longer persistent as she sauntered down to the medical bay. With her back to the chaos that ravished hell personified, she quietly mused to herself. 

‘The sound of him pleading is quite beautiful.’

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I’m alive, I hope you enjoy the third instalment of this series. I am going to be honest writers block seriously hit me hard. I have finished my studies and I thought I’d be writing like mad, but that is not the case. But it will come eventually. I plan on finishing some request that have been sat in my inbox for sometimes, and get started on the second chapter of Siren’s Lullaby. Enjoy my loves 619x

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