It's All Lies, Darling (Yelena Belova X Fem Reader)

Prologue

She was a beautiful killer. A skilled killer who had no guilt or remorse when she took a life; innocent or not. A killer who looked like she was a kid at the candy story, excited and full of happiness. Laughing and treating her mission like a fun human hunting sport. Always wanting/ getting the first kill.

She could shoot one bullet, killing that person in the very place she aimed. The heart. It was always the heart. And she would smile, her eyes would glow every time she made the kill. Even when it was time to use a knife. A nice clean slice on the neck. The wrist, the most vital areas. Sometimes stabbing them a million times over until she was covered in their blood. It always amazed me, that even in blood her eyes shined so brightly, glowing in that rich color.

She was a killer, but it was only because they controlled her mind, her body like some circles animal ready for show. They trained her to kill, they made her kill. And they loved the monster they had created, so much. Unleashing their creation on the so called "enemies" when absolutely necessary.

And no matter how many times I tried to help her, to get her to slow down and not kill. It was always futile. Even when I gave her orders not to kill. Even when I told her we needed them alive, to get information, they needed to live, she would still find a way to kill them. It was like that was all she could do.

Even when she wasn't trying. Her body simply moved on its own, no matter how many times she tried to restrain herself. But she never apologized for it either. Simply saying, "Well, I tried" shrugging it off knowing that the kill was done, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Not like we could bring them back from the dead.

"It happened, get over it," was her favorite line.

Until that day. When I was finally able to break out of the red room and out of Dreykov's control. When I could set the remaining widows free, and let them have a chance to live for themselves, think for themselves.

But she couldn't do that. Something about the lack of direction made her uncomfortable. Unknowing what to do, almost like if her life no longer had meaning. She was controlled all her life, she knew nothing but the red room, and now she was a lost puppy trying to find a new master.

She was a vicious, killer dog. But when I saw her for the first time, without the mind control serum in her system, without orders. She was a puppy. A puppy who whimpered when sad or scared. Who smiled with her eyes for the first time. A puppy who was taught new tricks, and turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me.

Y/n L/n, the girl who was a killer, now a girl who can't even hurt a fly.

It took awhile for her to adjust. I remember trying to help her function. It was a month after Natasha and I destroyed the red room. I got an apartment so I could be close to my sister and y/n tagged along. Not because I took her with me, but because she just followed me.

At first I thought we were going the same direction. But it was more than that.

When I walked she walked. When I stopped she stopped. She followed me no matter where I went. But I knew I couldn't fault her. When you have no one telling you what to do, everything becomes meaningless. So I allowed her to tag along. She moved in with me, and slowly I started to teach her how to be a functioning member of society.

The more time I spend with her, the more I started to enjoy her company. Back then, just being in her presence scared me. Fearing she might catch me off guard and kill me. She was always watching me. Like a predator stalking its prey. Now when her eyes land on me and I don't want her to look anywhere else. Her once murderous eyes became kind. Soft and gentle. Same with her smile.

After a year of being on our own, she finally got the courage to confess her feelings. It was cute, if you liked all the classic novel and movie cliches tied into one. A beautiful romantic day, just the two of us, under the star. And ending the night together, like it was always meant to be.