#coulson!reader

[writingsbychlo]

KNOW YOU LIKE I DO | tom riddle

summary; love letters are tom's way of communicating. unfortunately, he's not as good with his actions.

word count; 7036

notes; another one that I said was gonna be short and it wasn’t. I think I’m physically incapable of writing short fics, actually.

Dear Tom,

Tommy. 

My Tom. 

Do you still have that first letter I wrote to you, back in summer? No, I suppose you don’t, that’s not very like you. 

I’m drunk. Just a little bit (a lot), and I can’t take it anymore. Mattheo told me to tell you how I feel, and that is exactly what I’m going to do. He’s asleep on my bed right now, drooling into my favourite pillow waiting for me to write this. 

So here it is. 

I’m angry. I’m hurt. I’m confused. I’m in love. And it’s all your fault.

Staring across the crowded room, your eyes fixed back onto that of Tom Riddle. It wasn’t hard to spot him, not as he was the only man who came to a Christmas party dressed in all black and sat alone, brooding. His lips were pressed into a line, the lights bouncing off of those shiny curls, green and red splashed across his pale skin as he sipped at his drink, listening to the conversation Draco and Blaise were having, but never participating. 

Your heart lurched a little in your chest, just the mere sight of him had a thousand different feelings rearing their heads, and you sighed to yourself. Shaking your head, your attention was redirected to the drinks table, pouring yourself an extra strong helping of Giggle Gin and topping it off. The urge to look back over was strong, and you steadfastly ignored it, suppressing the urge and instead, turning your back to his direction, walking towards the group of girls giggling in the opposite corner. 

Taking your seat back in the comfy corner of the sofa, Pansy offered you a smile, her arm looped over Luna’s shoulders as the blonde cuddled into her side. Astoria was currently recounting the intimate details of her latest night with Draco, and you hid a smile in your cup as you tuned back into the conversation. 

You lost the battle with your will, however, gaze moving directly back across the room to Tom. He had a slight smirk on his face now as he watched Draco speak, and you did not doubt that he was receiving a tale of the exact same encounter Astoria was currently telling, only from a different point of view. 

Blonde cut across your vision, the perfect smile of Daphne blocking your view as she sat in front of you, severing any sights of Tom you might have had. “You know,” She started, grinning as she took a sip of your drink cheekily, before handing it back. “If you stare at him any harder, you’re gonna’ drill holes in the side of his head.”

You could only scoff, but no argument formed. Lately, all you’d been able to do was stare longingly at him across any room. You weren’t subtle, and you’d never been much good at hiding your feelings. Which seemed fitting, since you’d fallen for someone who was like a blank slate, permanently. 

Tom Riddle was a harder book to read than a tablet written in a never-before-discovered language. 

“He looks so… miserable, Daph.”

She glances over her shoulder at him, snorting a laugh, and turning her attention back to you. “Because Tom Riddle doesn’t go to parties, and he’s probably counting the minutes until he can leave.” She smirked a little, shuffling closer, perched on the edge of her seat as she leaned in, “At least, he didn’t go to parties. Until you, that is.”

Your cheeks flushed, a subtle hint at the running joke your friendship group had taken on. They’d all become convinced that Tom attended parties for you, ever since he’d been a willing guest for the first time at Draco’s end-of-summer bonfire bash, and spent the majority of the night talking with you. They refused to let it go. 

“You should go over there and cheer him up. I bet he’d be smiling in no time if you gave him a little attention.”

That was exactly the problem. You’d been giving him a little too much attention, and now, everyone was painfully aware of your feelings for him. Except for him, maybe. Either that, or he was just very good at pretending he didn’t notice, in a chance to let you down gently. You didn’t know which option was worse. “Don’t be ridiculous, Daph.”

“No, you don’t be ridiculous! You and him are… something else.” She took your free hand in hers, squeezing tightly. All amusement melted from her face, and she gave you a serious look. The expression she wore when advising her sister on Draco, or comforting Pansy after a panic attack. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened over the summer, or are you just going to keep acting like it wasn’t some cataclysmic shift?”

“So dramatic.” You hummed to your roommate.

“Still pretending, I see.” She teases lightly, but her brows are still furrowed. She waited a few more seconds, to see if you’ll crack. All you do is hold her steady gaze, and take a sip of your drink. With a sigh, she released your hand, and leans back in her chair. “Well, whatever. We can all see it, see how you two pine for one another, and how perfect you’d be together. Just go and talk to him! He’s probably sat over there waiting for you anyway. He had that exact same kicked-puppy expression on at the summer party, until you walked in.”

“He did not…” You murmur, the very thought making you blush. 

“I think that’s the first time I ever saw Tom Riddle smile. A real smile, not the smile he gets when threatening someone, or when Mattheo falls over. A good smile.” 

“Now you’re just making him out like some kind of sulky villain.” You retort, and she only raises a brow at you.

“Here, take him this box, and go talk to him. The poor boy looks lost over there without you.” Reaching under her chair, Daphne produces a familiar box, wrapped neatly in black paper with dark green ribbon, and your jaw drops. 

“Daphne!—” Reaching out to snatch it from her, your brows furrow. “Did you go through my things?”

“I didn’t exactly go through your things,” She grins, watching you turn over the label with his name written on neatly. “I just watched you hide it under your bed and got curious… it smells good. Is it cookies? Can I have one?”

When she reaches for the box, you slap the back of her hand, and she sticks her tongue out at you in return. “No! You cannot, you little snoop!”

“Fine! If you won’t let me have a cookie, then you have to go over there. You either give me a cookie, or you give me the satisfaction of seeing you and him smile.” Her arms crossed, her tone annoyed but her words caring, and love shone in her gaze as she stared at you. “Go on. Go over to him. Please.”

It wasn’t like you didn’t already want to, and with her encouragement, you were a weak woman to say no. Downing the rest of your drink for a little liquid courage, you hop to your feet, present clutched in your hands.

Weaving through the room, the bass notes of Mattheo’s custom-made playlist pumped through the room from the speakers, a playlist you might have slightly altered a few days ago to add a couple of songs, just to mix up his usual tastes. Your stomach was twisting nervously, but the alcohol in your veins made for a pleasant buzz as the distance between you both closed. 

After almost taking a ping-pong ball to the eye, courtesy of Theo on the beer-pong table, you cleared the games and settled into the pleasant atmosphere surrounding where the boys had set themselves up for the evening by the fire. When you approached, Tom looked up, frown melting away as the crease between his brows disappeared, and he sat up a little straighter as you approached. 

“Hi, doll,” He murmured, shifting his arm from the armrest of the chair, so that you could take a seat on it instead. That same arm soon wrapped around your waist, his head falling to rest on your shoulder, and your heart skipped a beat within your chest. “Where’ve you been?”

“Over there, with Daph and the girls.” You whisper in reply, balancing the box on your thighs, and pointing through the crowds to the barely visible patch of chairs and sofas you’d all been occupying. He only hummed, squeezing you a little closer. 

“Stay here with me for a while?”

“Sure,” Your voice hardly worked as you spoke, emotions clogging up, and you reached for the gift in your lap. “I have this for you, anyway. I made you those cookies you like so much.”

“You did?” His head lifted, and one of those pretty smiles that made your heart stop clean in your chest was adorning his lips. “The ones with the orange peel and the dark chocolate?”

“Those very ones.” You handed it to him, and he tugged at the ribbon covering the box, fingers flipping under the seals of the paper until it fell openly neatly. Flicking open the catch on the cardboard box, the smell of freshly baked treats filled the air, and he made a rumbling noise of happiness as he plucked on up, and took a bite. As you laughed at him, he took another, pushing it between your lips with a smirk while he chewed. 

He resealed the box, savouring them, as he did all things, and putting them on the table in front of himself. You held the cookie now, eating it slowly, as Draco and Blaise finally seemed to become aware of your presence. 

“I have a question.” Draco started, and your gaze moved to him, brow raising as you took the final bite. “Is Astoria over there talking about me?”

The blond smirked, and you twisted, lifting your legs to sit over Tom, ankles crossing on the opposite arm. “No, no. She’s been recounting a scene from a book.”

“What?”

“Yeah. You know, the fun books. It was really, really hot.” You teased, fanning yourself, and Tom chuckled, reaching over you for his drink, and taking a sip. Instead of putting it back down, he rested the cool glass on your thigh, his free hand coming to sit on your calf, rubbing lightly as you shivered at the touch. “Why? You think you’re better than a good spicy romance?”

“I know I am!” Draco huffed, and Blaise rolled his eyes, watching you wind his best friend up with barely a few words at all. “What book is this?”

“Oh, you don’t want to know…”

“I do want to know! Tell me!” His cheeks were turning pink, all the way up to the tips of his ears. In the spirit of Christmas, you took pity on him, rolling your eyes. 

“I think it was called… Astoria’s Diary.” 

It took a few seconds for it to register in Draco’s mind, and the furious pink turned to an embarrassed red, and he shook his head, eyes narrowed at you. “I despise you.”

“You love me.” You fired back, and he scoffed, but the edges of his lips pulled at a smile, and he looked away to cover it. Settling back a little more, you leaned into the cushion, feeling Tom roll his head across the cushion to lean in your direction. 

“I feel like I’ve barely seen you all week.” He says, voice low for only you to hear, and your head twists towards him You were close, close enough to pick out the different coloured flecks of colour in his eyes as he looked at you, and the hardly visible steaks of lighter brown that trailed naturally through his dark curls.

“Well, I’ve had detention all week, thanks to a certain someone.” You poked his chest, and he only smirked a little bit, shuffling his head a fraction closer. 

“I needed you, what can I say?”

“You needed someone to keep a lookout while you snuck into the restricted section again. Why did it have to be me?” You scoffed, working to keep the smile on your face as the answer to your own question flickered through your mind. He chose you because he knew you’d drop everything and come, the voice taunted; you buried it under the song playing and the laughter in the room so you didn’t have to think about it...

“Don’t act like you didn’t have fun when we ran.” He chuckled, hand sliding up your leg again, fingers lacing with your own. The same way they had when you’d been caught, and he’d grabbed your hand, the two of you ducking and weaving between stacks, fleeing through the corridors. Laughing and out of breath, he’d clutched your hand, thumb rubbing over your knuckles just like he was doing now, staring at you with those pretty eyes.

You hadn't been caught, but you had gotten detention for skipping class to go with him, and so you’d spent all five nights of your final week in detention, writing lines. You lifted your free hand, sighing with a nod, and running it through his curls. His eyes fluttered, head tipping back to follow your hand, and a content smile took over his lips. 

You loved to see him like this, to see him so carefree and happy, to see him relax at just your touch. You’d never seen him like this before. The thought that only you could do it to him sent a thrill down your spine, made your thoughts feel hazy and slow, like treacle in your mind, and your nerves tingled. So, why had he never made a move to make it anything more? You’d given him a dozen chances, a dozen more opportunities…

“I don’t know what I’m going to do without you this holiday.” He broke your train of thought, eyes opening again to peer up at you, and his lips became a frown as he thought about it. “My father is going to pile on the pressure not that I’m in my graduating year. I can already feel the headache forming right between my eyes.”

“Oh..” You coo, hand slipping down from his hair to rub your thumb over his forehead, the space you know him to get stress headaches the worst, when he works too hard or gets wound up. He just chuckled, eyes sliding shut once again. 

The song changed, and his body tensed underneath you for just a second, before his eyes snapped open, gaze locked on you. “This is my favourite song.”

“Is it?” You mumble, finger still tracing lightly over his skin, and he nods.

“I didn’t think Mattheo put it on the playlist. I asked him, and he very emphatically said no.” 

“Maybe he changed his mind.” Your shrug doesn’t convince him, not as you both hear Mattheo question the song with a stream of curses somewhere in the distance. His lips twitched at the edges, a small smile, but he said nothing else. Instead, he leaned in, your arm going around his shoulders, rubbing softly as his head nestled onto your shoulder, a sigh on his lips. 

It was perfect, just like this. If he could just open his eyes and see, he’d know how wonderful it could be. Nobody knew him like you did, he’d made sure to keep his secrets locked up tight. But over the months of exchanging letters, and candle-lit nights in the library, he’d bore so much of his soul to you. 

Deep, wounded parts, that you’d tried to put back together. 

Soft, tender parts that he protected so valiantly, but trusted you with. 

Sweet, loving parts, that never saw the light of day, unless you were together.

It was impossible, surely, that he didn’t know. He might keep his feelings locked up tight, but you didn’t hide yours very well at all. As you sat here now, fingers weaving through his hair, lips tracing his temple as you whispered nonsense to him about your day, his head on your shoulder, that he didn’t know. Even a man like Tom Riddle couldn't miss it, right?

You just wanted to make him happy, but he didn’t feel the same. 

With a heart-aching sigh, you ran your fingers through his curls one more time. Unrequited love wasn’t going to ruin your night. Unrequited love wasn’t going to ruin your Christmas. You would not be one of those girls who gave in to their feelings, and crumbled at the feet of a man who didn’t return her affections. 

Sitting up some more, he grumbled at the disruption, blinking his eyes back open as he lifted his head again. “I’m… I’m going to go dance, and play some games, okay?”

“Alright,” He smiled, patting your thigh and lifting his drink away. “Have fun. I’ll probably leave soon. If I don’t see you again, just know I’ll be thinking of you over these holidays. We’ll write again.”

His words send a rush of heat to your cheeks, a tumble of nerves through your stomach, and you could only nod. One more chance, one more chance to make a move…

“Merry Christmas, Tommy,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss his cheek. A kiss that was purposefully close to the edge of his mouth, a kiss that purposefully lingered just a second too long as you pulled away slowly, giving him a chance to turn his head, to close the gap, to kiss you—

But he didn’t, he only smiled. “Merry Christmas, doll.”

So, you stand. You brush it off. You brush off the moment, and the feelings, and all the disappointment and heartbreak that came with it. 

But I can’t do it anymore. 

We’ve been housemates for seven years, we’ve been friends for half of those, and I’ve been in love with you for months. 

But you don’t love me. Mattheo says you do, says you’re just stupid when it comes to feelings. But, even you couldn't miss how I feel about you.

So, I’m letting you go. 

New Year, New Me, New Heart.

“No, your dorm is that way.” You giggle, Mattheo’s arm over your shoulder, pushing him in the direction of the boy’s dorms and pointing. “My dorm is this way!”

“No, you’re wrong!” He mutters, shaking his head dramatically. “Boys to the left,” He says, pointing right, “Girls to the right, because girls are always right!”

“Well, I won’t argue with you there.” You grin, spinning him around. “Wait, now I’m confused. Who’s dorm were we going to again?”

A few too many shots, a few more drinks than your limit at the beer-pong table, and as the last of the party was dying down, you and Mattheo were attempting to stumble back to your dorms. “Theo’s.”

“Right. But why are we going to Theo’s dorm?”

“Because he’s my friend,” Mattheo said. “And also, his bed is next to mine.” Another fit of laughter, drunken giggles melting away, and the two of you collapsed down against the wall, heads tipped back to the stone as amusement took over. When you finally caught your breaths once again, he was smiling, eyes sparkling in that unique Matty-way. Kicking his legs out before himself, he sighed. “Maybe I will just sleep here.”

“You can’t sleep here.”

“Why?” He pouted, and you searched through your foggy mind for a reason. 

“Because you have to sleep in a bed.” Is what you settled on, shrugging your shoulders, even if you were getting a little bit too comfy against the stone too. 

“Can I sleep in your bed?” He wiggled his brows, smirking, before burping, and you giggled again. 

“No, you may not.”

“Why?” He whined, kicking one leg like a toddler in a tantrum. “You have fluffy pillows.”

“And you have sheets that haven’t been washed in months.” Your nose screwed up, and he let out a dramatic, wounded sound, like a soldier who had just been shot in a war movie. 

“That was cold.” He muttered, shaking his head. “Not as cold as the frozen Earth Tom would bury my wee little body in if I spent the night at your dorm.”

You didn’t respond, the mention of his name was like a bucket of ice over your head. Not exactly sobering, but shocking. 

“I’m saying he would murder me.”

“Yes, I understood.”

“You didn’t laugh.” He pouted, and you chuckled for his benefit. “No, it’s not real. Now I feel like I begged for it.”

“You did.”

“You suck.”

“You swallow.” You sighed, and he groaned once again, another argument lost. His head rolled to your shoulder, his body slumping into relaxation. 

“So… what is the deal with you and my brother?” His lips twisted as he thought about it, but he looked up at you curiously, frown only deepening at the sad look on your face. 

“There is no deal.” You shrug, “He doesn’t want me like that. We’re just friends.”

“Yeah,” He snorts, “And the sky isn’t blue.”

“I’m serious, Matty. I’ve given him a hundred chances. He could’ve made a move anytime. I haven’t exactly kept my feelings to myself, all you fools can see my heart dripping and bleeding on my sleeve. He knows, he just didn’t want to acknowledge it.” Your lungs burned for air at the end of your speech, and you took a deep breath, staring ahead at the chipping bricks in an attempt to avoid tears. “Why doesn’t he want me, Matty?”

“He does,” Mattheo mumbled, taking your hand in his and squeezing. “He’s just a fucking moron. But, he’s also scared. You know, you’re pretty much all he talks about? And, I never saw him smile so much as he did during the summer, when he’d receive your letters. He’d get all anxious and fidgety every day, waiting for the mail owl to arrive. He’s never going to make the first move. He’d rather suffer for all his life but have you like this, than risk losing you entirely.”

The words felt like a warming blanket and an ice-cold lake. Comforting and terrifying, sweet and burning, all at the same time. 

Mattheo huffed a laugh, “Maybe you should write him a love letter.”

“Maybe I should…” You whisper, drunken thoughts taking over, and his head snapped up. 

“I was joking.”

“I’m not. That’s a good idea. I should write him a letter, and tell him that I’m moving on.” You brushed your legs off as you stood, taking his hands and pulling him to his feet, determined.

“Okay, that’s not what a love letter is. That’s so far from what I said—”

“Let’s go!” You grabbed his wrist, tugging him along behind you as you made your way through the halls. 

“Now? Why are we doing it now? We should be sleeping now!” His protests fell on deaf ears as you dragged him along. Throwing open the door to your room, Daphne was already asleep, still in her party dress, face down on her pillow, out cold from the night’s festivities and snoring.

Mattheo collapsed onto your bed, rolling onto his side and clutching a fluffy cushion to his chest as he curled into a ball. 

“I’ll just wait here, then.” He yawned through his words, but you were too busy to care, scrambling for a pot of ink and some new parchment. Taking a seat at your desk, you stared at the paper, quill hovering, ready to write.

So, I will spend the end of this year away from you. You say we’ll write, but I don’t want to. 

Only write to me, Tom, if you feel the same.  If not, don’t. Let me heal, and when we come back in the New Year, I promise, nothing will change except for my heart. 

We will still be friends, best friends, and we’ll never talk about it again.

I will wait for you.

Finishing the letter, you sighed at it, the ink drying and immortalising your words onto the page. Sitting before you was the sum total of what sat in your heart, and your mind. Laid out and ready to go, your hands trembled a little as you read it over, and over, to be sure. 

But you had to do this, you had to give this letter to him, to alleviate the strain on your heart, to finally have some closure. Whether he felt the same or not, you’d have relief. Folding it carefully, you searched a strip of wax seal lighting the end and waiting for it to get hot, drips of Slytherin green filling into a pool that overlapped the edge of your paper. When there was enough, you stamped it carefully, sealing it shut as the wax cooled. 

Taking a look behind you, you caught sight of a sleeping Mattheo, his jaw hanging open, drooling onto your favourite throw pillow, half tucked under your blankets from where he’s only bothered to cover his legs. Peeling away the wax seal, you walked over to him, shaking his shoulder, until he awoke with a huff and a groan, whining as he sat up. 

“I was dreaming.”

“I wrote the letter.” You show him the proof, and he rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, glancing from it, to you, and back. “You have to give it to him.”

“Now?”

“No! Not now. Tomorrow. After we get off the train.” He blinked a little more, waking up from his power nap and taking the paper from you. Flipping it over in his hands, he inspected Tom’s name across the front, no address, and raised his brows. 

“Why don’t you mail it?”

“That’ll take days, and I don’t want to leave it up to chance. I need you to give it to him, tomorrow. I know you’ll be swamped with everything your father expects of you both this time of year, events and frivolities and all, but you have to. I don’t want it getting lost amongst other letters and Christmas cards, and such.” Your hands clasped together before you, blinking at him pleadingly, and hoping your puppy-dog eyes were half as good as his.

He sighed, rolling his eyes and muttering to himself as he stood.

“Please, Matty.”

“Fine. I’ll give it to him.” He caved, and you threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. 

“Tomorrow? After you get off the train?”

“Yes. I will give Tom the letter… tomorrow.”

Yours,

If you want me, 

(y/n) x

Tom double-checked his bags, sighing as he zipped up the piece of luggage he’d actually have access to on the train, everything he needed to survive a six-hour train journey. A knock sounded from the door, a signature one that only Mattheo ever used, excessively long and irritating, and the door swung open a second later to reveal his brother. 

Placing his carry-on down on the bed beside his own, Mattheo slumped out on his freshly-stripped bed. “You took your bags to the carriage already?”

“I got up early.”

“Surprising, I thought I’d have to drag you out of your bed this morning considering how much you drank last night.” He gave his brother a look, a single brow raised, and Mattheo just huffed. 

“It’s called having fun, you should try it sometime.”

Tom only rolled his eyes, gaze scanning across the bag Mattheo had abandoned, snagging on the letter sticking out of one pocket. T— was all that was visible. It might have been a card, that someone had addressed it to ‘Theo’ instead of Mattheo, but everyone called him ‘Matt’ if they wanted a nickname, to avoid confusion with Nott.

Curiosity ate at him, and nudging the bag subtly revealed just enough more to show an ‘O’. 

Definitely Tom, then. Mattheo was carrying a letter for him, and had not delivered it. Before he could pluck it from the pocket, his brother was sitting up, reaching for his bag and getting to his feet, swinging the letter out of his reach inadvertently. 

“Ready to go?”

“Is that letter for me?” Tom burst instead, making another move for the bag. His suspicions were only confirmed when Mattheo shifted his body, pulling the arm carrying the bag away from him, behind his body and out of Tom’s reach. “Why do you have it? When did it arrive?”

Mattheo turned casually, looking down at it, patting it and pushing it back into the bag, deeper. Tom recognised that handwriting now, though, and the urgency swelled. “Uh… last night, I think. But I was a little drunk, so…”

“Why didn’t you give it to me?” Tom pressed, biting his tongue from yelling at his brother, and Mattheo just shrugged. 

“Figured I’d give it to you on the train, or something. Or when we got home. It’s just a letter.”

“Yeah…” Tom could only hum in response, his mind spinning a little. Everyone had exchanged gifts and goodbyes last night, before the party. For exactly this reason, to avoid the morning rush to the train, to avoid the hassle in the morning. “But— I saw her last night. Why wouldn't she just give it to me then? Or mail it to me?” 

The questions were ceaseless, almost making Tom dizzy as he tried to think them through, and Mattheo could only shrug, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his smile to himself. 

“I don’t know, Tom. She just came to me, and asked me to give you that letter because she didn’t want it to get lost amongst other letters, or take too long, or something like that.” It was a small lie, really, fabricated from aspects of the truth.

“So, it’s important, then! It’s obviously important if she couldn't risk it getting lost, if it had to be hand-delivered! I should read it.” Just like that, Tom stepped right into Mattheo’s trap. Now all he had to do was pull the pin, and let the steel jaws snap shut. Yes, it could potentially backfire hugely, but Mattheo was looking on the positive side for this. 

“We have to go, Tom. Everyone else has probably already left for the train.” Mattheo swung his bag again, making his point, and kicked Tom’s suitcase from where it sat beside the door towards him to pick up. “Let’s go.”

Tom sighed, grabbing his bags and taking a few steps after him, and didn’t even make it over the threshold of the door before he gave in. His bags dropped from his hands, and planted on his hips instead. “I’m going to read it.”

“Tom—”

“Give me the letter.” He held out his pal, and Mattheo tipped his head to the side, but pressed his lips together to hide a grin. “I’ll catch up, you go. I’ll read it and I’ll catch up, it’s only a letter, can’t take that long.”

He lunged for Mattheo's bag, snatching the crisply pressed paper from the pocket before his brother could stop him. As he turned away, he missed Mattheo’s victorious smile. “Alright, I’ll take your trunk down. Don’t be long, or you’ll miss the train.” And you’ll miss her, were Mattheo’s unspoken words, as he grabbed Tom’s suitcase and disappeared, leaving him alone. 

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Tom’s hand shook a little. The paper felt like it weighed a thousand tons. There was so much unspoken mystery behind it that Tom was sure whatever this letter said, it was not their usual correspondence. Not the chatty, friendly, borderline flirty letters they’d send each other when apart, this was more. 

Sliding his thumb neatly under the wax seal he was so familiar with, Tom popped open the letter, unfolding it carefully and flipping it around to read. 

His gaze scanned over the paper, lips flicking up at the use of the nickname he only allowed you to use, the swirl of your handwriting that he loved so much. The smile didn’t last long, however, and neither did the breath in his lungs as his chest seized. He read it.

Over and over again, he read the letter. 

The minutes melted past as he absorbed what it said, until he could read the letter word for word without looking at it, tattooed into his mind now like a brand. With trembling fingers, he folded the letter back up carefully, lifting the paper to his lips as his eyes slid shut. 

His heart was pounding, more so than he’d ever felt. Tom was not one for rash decisions and sudden jumps, everything was calculated and thought through and planned. But this, this was you. This is just what you did, forced him to let go of routine and be spontaneous, forced him to be carefree, to loosen the grip he had on the reigns, to show him he wouldn't fall apart at the slightest breeze. 

He smiled against the letter, thoughts of you flicking through his mind. 

And then a clock chimed, and he jumped violently within as he was rushed back to reality in a split second. The clock in the common room chimed loudly, echoing through the empty dorms and halls. 

Rushing to his feet, Tom opened his bag, tucking the letter safely inside one of his books to preserve it, to tuck it inside the box of letters from you that was tucked under his bed at home. You doubted him, his feelings, unsure he’d kept that first letter, when in reality, he’d kept every single one.

Every letter, every note, even the silly little joke you scribbled on torn-off pieces of paper and threw at him in class, he kept them all.

Zipping his bag back up and grabbing it, he had no time to spare, racing to the chimes of the clock through the castle, to the front gates where the final carriage was leaving. 

It felt too long. Too long as the horses plodded through the snow, too long as the wheel scrolled slowly, and his foot tapped agitatedly on the floor in a way he never allowed himself to do. His thumbnail was between his teeth, flicking between the frost-covered ground and his bag, wondering if it would actually be faster to run there himself. 

Ahead, the train sounded its horn. The final warning for all students to begin boarding and settling in, because they’d be departing soon. 

You watched as the trunks were beginning loaded onto the train, all to be collected when you arrived in London, only letting out a breath of relief as Mattheo rounded the corner, finally joining your group. 

“Matty! About time, we were worried you’d miss the train.” Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he sighed, a little out of breath, and hugged you back once he dropped the two bags in his hands. Nobody followed him, and your brows furrowed, pulling back, “Where’s Tom?”

“He’s probably already on the train, sulking somewhere. He’s never late.” Theo snickered, and you rolled your eyes, smacking him across the shoulder for his joke. 

“Blaise is inside holding a cabin for us, is Tom not sitting with us?” Enzo questioned, and you turned to Mattheo, waiting for answers. 

“He’ll be here, trust me.”

“He’s late?” Draco asked, quickly followed by Enzo and Theo, all discussing it. Regulus stayed quiet, smoking and trying to hide it from being seen, but his expression was just as concerned as everyone else’s. 

The chatter continued on, by your worry didn’t cease, checking up and down the platform as people bustled and crowded it. Saying their final goodbyes and giving out hugs, climbing on and off the train as they all wished one another Merry Christmas, and being unable to see either end was causing your anxiety to rocket higher. 

The train horn blared again, and students began to board. “Mattheo, seriously, where is he—” Just like that, you saw him, the busy platform parting to let him through, the look on his face as terrifying as ever, and people moved out of his way as he made his way towards your group. 

“Told you he’d be here,” Mattheo smirked, and you raised a brow. 

“The hell did you say to him this morning, Matt?” Regulus questions. 

“He looks mad,” Draco murmured. 

“He looks like he’s plotting.” Enzo corrected.

Every step closer rose the tension as Tom finally looked up, his sights setting on you, and his jaw clenched. Brows drawn in, he did look like he was plotting, like a thousand thoughts were racing through his mind that he couldn't sort through. 

“Hey, man. We thought you were gonna’ miss the—” Draco’s words cut off at your squeak, as Tom stepped closer, never stopping the movements of his body until he was cupping your cheeks, his mouth descending upon your own. 

You were almost knocked backwards from the force of it, your hands gripping at his shoulders as he bent you over backwards, a kiss so intense your knees almost went weak. 

It was desperate, you could barely keep up, kissing back as best you could through your shock, until it wore off enough to reciprocate. Wrapping one arm around his neck, your other slipped to his face, his own hands making their way down, to band around your waist and pull you in closer, until your bodies were flush. 

His tongue licked into your mouth, a sigh escaping you as he did, and your heart pounded against your heart, the same way he was doing, felt through his jumper and layers. The boys were whistling, cheering and hooting, and if you weren’t so happy you’d have been embarrassed by the show they were making, and the attention they were no doubt drawing. 

When he finally pulled back, you panted softly, his forehead resting on your own, blinking his eyes open to meet your gaze. 

“Can I write to you regardless?” He mumbled, voice rough and tense with emotion, and your brows furrowed. 

“Wh— What?” 

He leaned in, not helping you clear your dazed mind at all as he kissed you again, and again, until you were smiling, fingers clenched so tight in his coat that your knuckles were white, just to stay upright. 

You pecked his lips once more, chasing him as he pulled back, and the train horn sounded, a final warning, but you didn’t care. “You know how I feel now. You don’t have to wait for my reply. You can be assured that I will miss you dearly over these two weeks, and I am already counting the minutes until I see you again. But can I write to you, still?”

As the realisation set in, your face flamed, jaw dropping a little bit, and he wasted no opportunity, kissing you softly. “You read my letter.”

He only nodded, a gentle chuckle onto your mouth as your lips brushed. “You’d leave it to Mattheo to deliver? He’d probably lose it at a McDonalds, trying to get a Big Mac before my father saw him, on the way home. 

Your laughter was sweet, a puffed-out sound as his hands smoothed up and down your back. “I’d love to get more letters from you, Tommy. I’m sorry I didn’t give it to you in person, but I was scared. I thought I’d made my feelings for you obvious, and you didn’t reciprocate, so I had to write that letter. To get it out, to finalise it all.”

“I like to consider myself a smart man, you know. When it comes to you, clearly, I’m a fool. You leave me speechless, and without proper thoughts, every time. All I can think about is how pretty you are, and how much I like you, despite my best efforts not to.” 

The declaration was so utterly Tom, to hate being in love even if he loved it. 

“For Salazar’s sake, what have you done, Matt?” Theo cussed, and you twisted your head to look at him. “Shakespeare over here is going to be writing sonnets for the rest of the year. None of us will stand a chance with any other girls when he’s showing us up, standing under windows, yelling his love to the moon.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring their nonsense. Tom did the same, nuzzling his nose against your cheek, and leaving a kiss there.

“I’ll look forward to your letters, just as I did in the summer.” You whisper, pulling away from him as the platform clears, most students already aboard now.

“And after?” Tom questions, “May I still write you letters if I, too, find myself struggling to confess my feelings in person?”

“Oh, God,” Enzo muttered. “He’s going to be writing love letters all year. He’s making the rest of us sound like cavemen. Me, you, bed, now.” He grunted, smacking a fist in his chest. You giggled as Tom rolled his eyes. 

“We should get on the train.” You whisper, taking pity on the others and untangling yourself from his arms. 

Tom took his bag again, and your own. With a final kiss on your cheek, he walked away to the door of the carriage, letting the rest of you follow behind. Mattheo fell into step beside you, smirking as he bumped your hips with his own.

“So, should I tell my mother and father that they have a new daughter-in-law this holiday, or wait ‘til the next.”

His teasing made you blush again, cheeks already red in the cold, warming you under all those layers. “You’re a filthy traitor. You gave him my letter early.”

“I said I’d give it to him ‘tomorrow’. Never agreed to the after the train part.” He tutted, proud of himself. “Always pay attention to the words of a contract. My dear brother taught me that. You never have to break a promise, if you’re smart with your words.”

That sounded exactly like something your man would say, your eyes rolling to the Heavens. 

Mattheo leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper as the pair of you climbed the steps. “You never have to break your heart either, if you’re smart about who you give it to.”

[artytaeh]

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

can i disagree with some of this fandom's perception of tom riddle? surely he won't be a sweetheart like lorenzo, but...

┊ i also don't think that he'd be so intentionally rude, so cold towards his significant other. i honestly think that if tom ever becomes infatuated with someone, he would take pride into getting this someone to belong to him. willingly! 🌷

౨ৎ i guess i'll never know the reason why you ♡ ͡

love me like you do; that's the wonder of you . . .

... tom riddle is a smart man, you see. love, romantic feelings, to act like a couple and all of those things— these might be the most confused that tom riddle will ever be, because otherwise, he's an extremely competent, capable young man.

tom riddle does get confused, a little lost on what to do; he'd torture himself by discreetly watching couples at hogwarts interacting, maybe make some research (= read novels. romantic novels. it was a discovery of a new medieval torture for tom, seriously, to waste his precious time reading some sappy crap like that.) to better understand how to handle you.

how to deal with you.

how to cherish you, so that you don't ever entertain the idea of leaving him. you see, tom is a practical man— he'd rather not commit mistakes, because to fail, means to spend extra time fixing his error and doing the same thing twice, so that this time, it's done correctly.

applying this ideology to you, it means: that 1) tom riddle prefers to always keep your heart happy, so that you don't have doubts about him; so that 2) he won't have to take twice the effort to conquer the city of your heart again.

some think that tom wouldn't like petnames. to be fair, tom would frown at many of those, at first— thinking that they were cringe, disgusting or a psychological way to acquire diabetes. however, when tom gets used to this stir on his heart, those loud heart beatings that cloud his rational thoughts...

... it's excused to say that tom's preferred petname to call you by, is 'my love'.

tom reasons that's because it isn't a lie at all. well, you're certainly his— and because of you, because of your existence, of this enchanting aura of yours; that's how tom riddle discovered love. there are few things that tom is attached to. even fewer that he shows to care about, to have affectionate feelings for; one of them is the basilisk. others are his favorite books, all of them first editions that were troublesome, but endlessly worth it, to get. nevertheless, at the peak of the pyramid, there's you.

you. oh, how your name sounds so angelic, so right, so perfect on his lips. sometimes, tom doesn't call you by any petnames, so that he can mouth each syllable of your name, tasting the acquaintance of the name of his darling on his lips.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

he might call you by other petnames, depending on the occasions:

darling; which, in his opinion, is fairly one of the best petnames to be shared between a couple. because you, reader, are endearing to his eyes— a darling, really, whose presence immediately softens (ever so slightly, because tom riddle still is tom riddle himself, and that mask of stoicism of his won't be broken without putting up a fight.) those previously icy, cold eyes of his.

dearest; if tom is trying to reason with you. unlike what many think, tom would take a deep breath, put on that handsome smile of his, and use a gentle tone to convince some words inside that pretty little head of yours. 'dearest', he calls for you— so gentle, so full of affection; as if reminding you that you are the object of all of his affections and desires. you, his dearest, the one he adores the most. the reminder of such a fact easily melts you in less than a few seconds, which tom sees as too perfect of an opportunity to lose to convince you much faster.

doll; if you look rather ravishing to his eyes, whenever you dress up even prettier than other school days, and wear such pretty clothes and many accessories to further optimize your beauty. beautiful, perfect, flawless; like a doll. a carefully made doll. a doll, that sits there quiet and all pretty, obedient, doing as she's told.

( i must warn you, though, that tom won't entertain silly nicknames from you. tom riddle will ignore you, march forward without sparing a glance at you, not even acknowledging your presence should you insist on the matter. tom won't answer you, should you refer to him by such hideous petnames. you could be about to fall from a mountain, and yet tom won't help you until you address him properly. baby? he's not a child, for salazar's sake! pookie bear? now that might make tom riddle himself throw you off from the mountain's edge— call him such a monstrosity like that, and tom will lose every drop of faith on you. you're a lost cause. )

if he had to choose; yes, tom would prefer if you were obedient. contrary to popular belief, tom riddle is quite fascinated with sweet personas. to have a sweet significant other, who's all smiles and considerate words— it's so, so much easier for tom.

between a brat that trashes around for his attention, and a sweet girl who gently tries to indulge (purely out of concern, wanting him to share his problems with her!)— tom would rather choose the latter.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

quite the darling you are. to boldly take tom's hands between your own, with that frown of yours. no, you're not being whiny; yet tom can see that there's consideration, there's time spent on that little brain of yours, that tries to find the right words to speak with him.

then, when you voice your concerns— that tom spends some time alone from time to time, seemingly hiding something from you, as if to shoulder all of those burdens all by himself...

tom takes a deep breath, swallowing his temper. trying to keep his composure, because tom hates having to justify his actions. with a smile, tom puts on a facade, with a too much convincing tone: "oh, dearest, no. i'm flattered that you noticed that i haven't been having the best days; however, your presence makes everything better. in fact, being with you now, makes all of my problems seem insignificant in comparison."

should his sweet words not be enough to keep your nose out of his business, then tom takes a step further. holding your hands, tom squeezes them between his fingers, gently at first, tightly when you're too stubborn: "my problems are mine to solve, my love. i would never put such a heavy burden on you; your smile is too precious for me to ruin."

sweet, sweet words; some that tom mentally grimaces at, but knows that are necessary and effective with you. talking as if he's doing you a favor on keeping you away from his PERSONAL thoughts and goals.

and that's how tom pushes you way. gently, smoothly— so that you'd have to rethink this moment over and over, for you to understand that once again, tom riddle has tricked you; tricked you into doing what he wants. because without a fight, without you daring to bother him further... tom riddle made you go back to your own business, and leave his alone.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

however, when tom is in a better mood and less stressed with his own goals, he'd find it funny, entertaining even, if his darling tried to be bossy. to pout, to want some sort of control. it's hilarious for him.

so, he indulges you. well, sort of— tom tricks you into thinking that he gave in to your commands. to your whims. in a sneaky way, tom makes you think that you're in control!

the one who's in charge is you. yes, darling, of course. he pats your head, gives you that charming smile of his. with such a serene expression, tom briefly raises his eyebrows, mocking you inside that devious mind of his, as he says: you are absolutely right, dearest.

tom riddle doesn't really mind that you aren't consciously aware that the one in charge is him. that's fine; no, seriously, go and brag about it!

because ultimately, tom knows that what he says, goes. that with some sweet words of his, a little touch here and there, that you'll soon see the reason and comply to whatever tom wishes you to say, to do, to behave.

he does is so smoothly, that even for the outsiders, well... it'd be hard to realize that all that tom riddle is doing to you, is nothing but manipulation. and you're oh so easy to manipulate— it was a challenge at first. now, it's more of a chore; tom barely blinks through it. he knows you so well.

however, so that you whining and getting used to think that you're having things done your way, tom throws some praises and compliments here and there.

touching you chin, gently brushing his thumb on your lower lip; tom's gaze intentionally softens, as he praises: 'you're just too good to be true, my love.', whenever you act accordingly. when you do as he says.

brushing a strand of yours away from your face, so that he can further admire the physical features of his beloved: 'i sincerely can't take my eyes of you, darling, when you are so good for me like this. pardon the way that i stare— you're too beautiful.'

and with even more sincerity, tom riddle isn't sure where his manipulation ends and his genuine care for you starts; tom isn't sure, whether his words are now a muscle memory of his, or if he truly means them.

but he never allows himself to discover the roots of this thought. to actually find out if he truly is such an emotionally shallow person, or if his weakness for his darling is deeper than he realizes. no— this is one of the few matters, in which tom would rather remain ignorant about.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

because tom is such a gentleman with you...

opening doors for you. walking two, three steps ahead of you as soon as the entrance is upon sight, tom will open the door for you; his arm keeps it open for you to enter or leave the room first, and so those grayish-green eyes of his watch you, as you pass by. then, tom will enter just behind you, following your lead, quickening his steps to go back to his rightful place by your side. he lies to himself, saying that he only does such a small gesture to effortlessly keep you by his side. tom would be telling the truth, if he doesn't interrupt the thought that he enjoys to escort you— because, deep down, tom genuinely appreciates your company. every step, every minute you spend together. 'here, love. please, continue; what did you tell your housemate, then?'

tom riddle refuses to let you carry heavy books. so, as if it was muscle memory and so smoothly that you can't do anything about it, tom will carry your books along with his, as soon as you leave the classroom. it's not that he finds you useless, incapable; rather, tom riddle perceives you as a... preciously delicate, fragile little thing. most of the times, tom does it so nonchalantly that you don't even notice; you're too distracted by your conversation, to notice how tom carries your stuff, busying his arms. however, should you notice or worry that you're being a burden to tom in any way; tom shakes his head at you, waving off this silly insecurity of yours: 'i know you can carry them, beloved. however, allow me to do it for you. i am your boyfriend, am i not?'

offering his hand for you to take, whenever there's a higher step to be climbed up, or tricky stairs on your way. tom will do it too, to give you some kind of support, should you jump off of a particular high edge. whenever you wear high heels, tom would be specially careful with you— he offers his arm or hand for you to take, walking in a much slower pace than usual, so that you won't overexert your feet. we can't have his darling getting hurt, now can we? no bruises, no pain, no redness on your skin undesired by him, nothing to interrupt the lovely time you're spending together. 'take my hand, my love; it's quite high for you. that's it, darling, good girl.'

whenever you're about to sit, tom grabs the back of your chair, pushing the seat backwards for you to take, then helps you settle closer to the table. only then, will tom take his own seat in front of you. it's something that becomes so, so common between both of you, that sometimes you find yourself taking a few more seconds to sit down, whenever you hang out with your friends; unconsciously, you'd wait for tom to gently guide you to your seat. oh, you're spoiled.

leaning down to get the material you accidentally knocked out; if he's not quick enough to notice, then tom will keep his hand on the edge of the table, so that there's no chance for you to hit your head. 'quite the klutz, aren't you, darling?' — with a lighthearted tone, so that he doesn't come by as mean, tom couldn't help but to tease you just this time, — 'next time, let me get it for you, dearest. now, careful with your head.'

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

... and because he's always so soft-spoken with you, well, how could you listen to your friends, in case they notice that maybe tom riddle isn't as a good guy as he lets on? that perhaps, he is a little controlling. that maybe, he's too overprotective of you.

→ and of course, being the fool you are, you stroll to the lion's cage (or should we call it snake?) and deliver all of this information on a silver platter for him.

SAT SIDEWAYS ON HIS LAP, tom settles your thighs to rest on top of his, while a hand is respectfully kept there; caressing the smooth skin, rubbing circles on the bare skin of your thigh, just inches underneath the hem of your skirt.

tom riddle keeps up a serene expression, sometimes humming in acknowledgement, to show you that he's listening to this ramble of yours. if it's a topic that seems to have bothered or upsets you, then tom will keep another hand on your lower back; he soothes you with small movements of his fingers.

oh, how funny. so this ravenclaw friend of yours, told you that it isn't normal for tom, your boyfriend, to comment whether you roll up your skirt during summer? that such a thing is being controlling? now that's something tom will have to deal with. perhaps, he'll only have to frame this irritating ravenclaw girl; have you ever thought that maybe, she's interested in tom? that must be why the ravenclaw is filling your pretty little brain with such absurd exaggerations of his doings. how lucky you are, to have an attentive boyfriend that easily notices when a friend of yours has bad intentions.

( for obvious reasons, tom despises amortentia. he finds it disgusting, but more than that, tom riddle perceives amortentia has a rather pathetic tool to get someone's affection. tom will never use it on you— he doesn't need to! however, he will get his hands on one, to use it on that nosy, insufferable ravenclaw friend of yours. only to prove his point. so that this nosy girl acts disgustingly flirty around tom, so that you'll come running back into his arms, crying about such an awful friend and that once again, tom was right. you apologize to him, for doubting his assumptions. you end this friendship and cut ties with the ravenclaw girl. and tom, well, tom riddle has once again rid both of you from troublesome outsiders. )

ah, now this is entertaining! so these friends of yours, housemates, have noticed that tom has been keeping an eye on you. now, dearest, that's rather silly, don't you think? so what if you seem to find the same familiar faces in the same space as you? do you really believe your friends' theories? that he sends his followers ''friends'' to follow you around the school? darling, hogwarts is quite enormous and spacious, yet all of you study together in the same castle. it's inevitable, to see familiar faces, here and there.

( however, tom will blame his followers. how difficult can it be, to follow, to stalk a girl like you? and to go unnoticed as they do that? sincerely, tom stares at them with such disgust, such disappointment, that his followers tremble under his gaze— the future dark lord even mentions the idea of getting rid of them. of throwing them away. after all, why would he need such useless, such incompetent boys like them, if they can't follow simple orders correctly? it's excused to say, that you'd never suspect being stalked again. 1) because tom reassured you that such a thought is rather silly; and 2), because these followers of tom riddle do a much better job. out of fear. )

oh, darling, what silly friends you have! sincerely, it seems like you only attract observant delusional friends, or attentive paranoid companies!

in the end, it doesn't matter if your friends tried to alert you about tom's toxic concerning flaws traits. because in the end, at night, he will have you nuzzling on his lap, holding you so tenderly; all of these warnings disappear into thin air, when tom makes you laugh at such accurate ridiculous accusations.

in conclusion: no, tom riddle would never be rude or snap at you; not if he can help it, not if he can keep his temper in check. he believes that the best way to keep you so effortlessly devoted and infatuated, to keep you willingly by his side, is to treat you with care (even if sometimes he has to manipulate his way into it). how lucky you are, to have such a obsessive caring boyfriend!

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— i'm endlessly faithful to theodore nott. however. the first to kick the entrance door to my heart was tom riddle. and what a man (i can't fix him. i would let him ruin my life him tho!), ladies and gentlemen.

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[sriracharocks]

Tom Riddle Headcanons

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

possessive

like, VERY possessive

gets frequently jealous when you talk to boys (because"no one gets to enjoy what's mine")

not really into PDA, reserved in public (except hand holding and the occasional show-off that you're his by kissing you in front of everyone every now and then)

can't get his hands off of you in private

motivates you to study ("my girlfriend must also have the best grades in the school")

is quick to anger but calms down at your soothing caresses

loves it when you hug him but would never admit it out loud

knows about all of your little bodily imperfections and loves them

remembers every detail about you (yes, even the backstory behind the scar you got as a kid when you fell off the slide)

rough in bed, but can be gentle if you ask him nicely

appreciates every thing you do for him, no matter how big or little

would wage the next Trojan War for you if you're not in his line of sight

puts poison in your enemy's pumpkin juice in the Great Hall during breakfast ("your enemy is my enemy too")

always finds time for you, no matter how busy he gets with his ambitions to conquer the Wizarding World

[doremimosasol]

𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 ☆

warnings: suggestive? honestly not really, nothing much tbh

word count: 3,6 k

summary: you being the only good chess player (you thought), could it be that you found a shared interest with Tom Riddle?

@thatdammchickennugget ‘s Hogmarch challenge prompt 3

Tom loved wizarding chess, it was the thing that he was best in. Yet he hasn't found anyone yet who was enough of a challenge for him to compete with. He wasn't just good, he was just absolutely phenomenal at chess. He gave up on finding a match for himself, playing against nothingness, preparing moves for god knows whom.

That was until he saw you, you were practicing in the courtyard. Your feet were pulled under your legs, sitting cross-legged while focused on your game. There was a slight frown on your face, lost in concentration to beat the air. There was a way to enchant an opponent, but for the best, those weren't even good enough to win. It was boring not having a partner to play with, but it was the best you've got right now.

He leaned against a pillar close to you and observed your game. You were good, but were you good enough to beat him? He knew it was sort of an advantage, watching you play for a while before he'd ask you to play against him. But no one said Tom was a fair guy, he'd do anything to win. He'd never recover from a loss in wizarding chess, the game he was supposed to be best at. The game that was supposed to be his talent to always win in.

But you seemed good too. You knew great opening moves, you checkmated the fake opponent in 5 moves sometimes. You knew a lot, things he didn't even know others knew about. Moves he thought only he knew about. Even openings he thought he came up with himself. It seemed as if you knew the game through at through, he had never met anyone like you. You were different, fascinating, yet so different than the rest.

It was extremely enchanting to watch you play, to watch you win every single time. You, you were the person he'd been looking for, for months now, for years even.

Wizarding chess didn't start for him when he started attending Hogwarts. He didn't even know it was a thing before. He found a way to enchant the pieces himself back when he lived in the orphanage, the great wizard he was back then already. He crafted stuff he found around the home into pieces to use during his games.

He endlessly played, going again and again. It was his favorite thing to do, besides cursing other students at the orphanage. It wasn't on purpose, his anger sometimes just got the best of him. Before he knew it some of his classmates fell down the stairs. Was it his fault? No, because he didn't know how to control it. Did he enjoy it though? Probably yes.

He watched you sigh as you won another game once again, seemingly bored by the lack of competition. That's when you started talking, his heart almost dropped. "You know, you can also play with me instead of watching me from a distance. I can see you're studying the way I play, don't you think that's a bit unfair?"

He almost looked shocked. You couldn't have possibly seen him standing there? You didn't even look up once to be able to notice him, yet you did. "To answer your question, you aren't subtle." That's when you looked up at him, and that's when he first saw your face clearly.

You were beautiful to him, the only thing that bothered him was the yellow tie you were wearing. A Hufflepuff? That couldn't be possible, right? To him, there was no possibility of intelligence in any other house than Slytherin. Someone needs to tell this man that his house isn't superior. It caught him slightly off guard before he decided to speak up.

"Play with me." He got straight to the point. He saw you as a challenge and he wanted to test you, see if he could beat you. Of course, he could, he was sure of it. Always so goddamn sure of himself.

You laughed at the way he was so insistent. "Fine." You got up and made the board disappear with a flick of your wand. "Tomorrow evening in the great hall." You smiled softly and walked off into the castle.

He was intrigued. He often saw you walking in the hallway, you had a lot of friends. It seemed like people adored you. He always connected having a lot of friends with being unintelligent but now he was rethinking those prejudices. He even was thinking of giving you the first chance to become friends with him. He'd view it as an honor, getting to be friends with him. God, he was so full of himself. He should feel honored himself to be friends with you. Everyone wanted to be friends with you.

The next day, you sat in the great hall, setting up the pieces as you waited for him. The hall was dimly lit by the floating candles hanging over the tables.

When he came in, he noticed you sitting at the Hufflepuff table. It didn't feel right to him to not sit by the Slytherin table but he put his pride aside and decided not to annoy you by asking to switch places. But he was thinking about it the whole evening, hoping no one would walk in on it. Every other Slytherin could care less, they sat at other tables all the time.

He sat down in front of you and you immediately lifted your head to look him in the eyes, a small smile forming when you noticed him. Why were you always smiling? It was so weird to him, you didn't even have a reason to smile. But you never needed one.

"Are you ready for me to beat your ass?" You raised your brows and he scoffed mockingly.

"I bet you've mistaken me with someone else because I never lose." He had such a competitive glint in his eyes, you've never seen anyone this serious about chess.

You chuckled at his confidence. Oh how disappointed he'll be, poor Tom. "We'll see..."

You were white, which allowed you to make the first move. It wasn't always an advantage but you were always white, it had never been different. Good thing Tom always played black. It was like both of you were made to play against each other.

"Pawn to e4." And the game was on.

It took you probably less than 20 minutes to checkmate him. Easy... He was probably too confident, thinking he could easily win. His confidence played into his disadvantage.

The second game, won after 40 minutes. He was already fuming by now. You saw the determination in his eyes, he couldn't lose again. He must win. At least once.

The fourth time, won again. It was a longer game, it took up to an hour. But you did it once again without any flaws. Oh, but he was so mad by now. His knuckles turned white by the way he was clenching his hands into fists.

"Filthy cheater, we go again!"

Could it be that the Tom Riddle was a sore loser?

"What is it? Can't stand that I'm easily winning? When will you give up Tom?" You were so enjoying getting him all worked up, it was quite the sight.

"I'll play again on one condition. The loser grants the winner a wish this time. What do you say? Are you in?" You extended your hand for him to shake, you loved making deals like this. It's because you always won, and that way always were granted a wish.

"Deal."

"You're going to regret this, y/n." You so wished you could wipe that smirk off of his face. You were going to win.

Oh, but how so wrong you were...

After 50 minutes, of a heavy and hard game, you lost for the first time ever in your entire life. It felt awful, especially since now you had to grant him a wish. You didn’t show it though, too prideful to give him this kind of satisfaction.

"Won. Guess you'll grant me my wish." He raised his eyebrows and leaned back in his chair, he analyzed your reactions and was satisfied to see an annoyed look on your face.

"What is your wish? Want me to announce to the whole school that you won, because I'll do just that." You were expecting that to be his wish so you already stood up to do it.

"Sit back down, it's something different."

Something different? What exactly could he want from you to do?

"Go on a date with me. Tomorrow night in the Room of Requirement." He sounded so confident, so determined to take you on that date.

A date?! Why in the world would he want to take you on a date? It almost sounded ridiculous to your ears. You never spoke before now, he didn't even know you. Why in the hell would he ever want to take you on a date?

"A date? Like… you and me?" He must have seen the confusion on your face, it was as obvious as the red color painting your face. You were blushing, unwillingly, but oh you were blushing hard.

"Well, I mean unless you have another definition for a date. Yes, you and me, tomorrow night. You can't say no, we made a deal."

And so you got yourself a date with Tom Riddle, you've never ever been on a date before. It'd be nerve-wracking enough with someone you knew well, but you didn't know Tom all too well. You felt like dying from the stress.

Was it even like a serious real date? You didn't even know what to wear, you lay out almost your whole closet on your bed but weren't satisfied with anything.

You even had to get your best friend to your room to help you out. Eventually, she chose a short black dress for you, it wasn't too short, classy and elegant even.

While you were almost eating your nails, you didn't know Tom was freaking out himself. Unlike you, Tom didn't have anyone to get advice from. It was all by himself, and not being experienced in these kinds of things, he was nervous. You wouldn't expect the calmth himself to be nervous, but he was quite literally freaking out.

He prepared everything since noon, he wanted it to be perfect. But also he started to think if it was too much? Or was it too little? The evening couldn't come soon enough or he'd have walked around the Room of Requirement twenty times.

You've never been to the Room of Requirement before, you've heard of it though. It'd show up when you most needed it but you didn't even feel like you needed anything at the moment. You just hoped it'd miraculously show up as you were walking through the corridors. That's when you heard a strange sound, it made you look up at the wall next to you. A large door appeared, guess this was it.

When you entered the room you were immediately greeted by the smell of freshly made food and a faint smell of roses. It's a smell you've always loved.

"Y/n, you came." He was wearing an all-black suit. God, he looked hot. Why haven't you noticed that yet about him? You were stunned, nailed to the ground. Your eyes on him that way put a smirk on his face, you were too easy.

It was different than you imagined, the way people described the room. It was often described as a large place with piles of stuff and goods but this place was clean not all too big and almost felt like a place to live. It was an open room with a book nook, a bedroom, a kitchen, a fireplace with a large couch, and a dinner table in the middle of it. It seemed to match his personality quite well.

Large iron snakes decorated the walls and the roof was painted with constellations. The room was mostly green, but not an unpleasant kind of green, a warm cozy green. It was pretty and the more you looked around, the better view you got of his personality. It's as if this room was painted to show what he was like.

It was obvious he loved silver. All the decorations were silver: the small snake details, the cutlery, and even the rings he was wearing. That's when you noticed his hands. Even during chess, you didn't pay them much mind but now you did...

His fingers wore several silver rings, some fingers covered by more than one. It was surprisingly attractive in a way, you almost felt wrong for staring at him that way but you couldn't help it.

He decided not to say anything about it but just let it slide. It'd be something he could tease you about later this evening, he just needed to find the right opportunity.

"You look beautiful." His eyes roamed your body like it was a piece of art, a piece of art he wished only he'd be able to admire. It wasn’t a creepy kind of look, you felt pretty under his gaze. He suddenly felt this weird feeling of possessiveness, something weird.

"Thank you, you look handsome yourself." That smile that painted your face again, was something he'd never get enough of. Something he wanted to get to see every day and together with that red blush on your cheeks. He felt powerful to make you feel so flustered. You weren't flustered quite often, however, he was someone who finally succeeded in doing so.

"Sit down, I'll bring the food."

The table was covered in red roses, thorns still attached. It was beautiful honestly, simple but stunning. The cutlery was engraved with roses too and a snake circling it. It was obvious that he was proud of his family history.

During dinner, you both talked about yourselves, explaining how you acquired the talent in chess. It was something your grandfather had taught you. He took care of you quite often while your parents were at work.

"They were great aurors, but not so great parents. I can't blame them honestly, I know they have a duty. I just sometimes wished they spent a bit more time with me. But it's honestly fine, my grandfather was a great man."

He always wished to have that kind of bond with a family member, it's something that always had been absent in his life. A void he so desperately wished to fill.

You motioned to the roses on the table. "They're pretty, but the school grounds don't grow roses... Where did you get them?"

He gives you that mischievous smile. "It's my secret."

It was a nice evening, the food was good and he was so much nicer than you expected. He was like a totally different person than when he was losing in chess.

A week passed and you hadn't heard from him since. You didn't dare to speak to him, scared he might not want to talk to you. Guess this was it, it was a nice evening but probably only a one-time thing. Maybe this is what he did with all the girls, getting a taste of their personality and going on to the next. You didn't view him like that at all but your view on guys wasn't all too great, so what else were you supposed to think?

It was until one night when you entered your dorm, a rose lay in front of your door. The thorns were removed and a small envelope was attached to it. You entered your room and sat down on your bed to open it.

"Meet me at the front gate just before dawn. - TR ps. check the envelope"

Check the envelope? It didn't feel like there was something else in there but decided to check...

A ring.

A silver ring, one of the rings he was wearing last week. It was the one that stood out the most, a green emerald covering the middle. It was a thick ring but it was so magnificent, you were drawn by the beauty of it. It must've cost such a great fortune. Why would he gift you this?

Just when you were about to put the envelope away, something else fell out: a thin silver chain. Did he want you to wear it as a necklace?

You decided to attach it to the thin chain and put it around your neck before getting ready to leave for the front gate. You didn't see the need to get all dressed up like last time, just something to keep yourself warm in this cold weather.

Approaching the large gate, he was already standing there. He was leaning against it, his eyes searching for something... "Come here." He motioned for you to come closer. There was something else in his eyes today, something mysterious but not scary. Just mysterious.

He traced your jaw and moved his fingers down your neck until he felt the cold touch of jewelry. He took it from underneath your shirt and lay it over your sweater. "Don't hide it, wear it with pride."

Without letting you answer he entered the courtyard, expecting you to follow him. "To answer your question..." You didn't even ask one, however, you'd like to know why he gave it to you.

He entered the school grounds, pausing his words before continuing. "I thought you would've liked it more around your neck than around my fingers. But I bet you didn't really mind staring at them, did you?" He caught you.

He looked at you with a smirk, enjoying seeing you flustered once again. "I wanted to show you something, I just needed to find the right day. Tonight seemed perfect."

He stopped for you to catch up with him and once you did, he took your hand in his. "You seem nervous, princess?" The cold of his rings touching your hand caught you off guard before deciding to answer. "Maybe I am."

"You shouldn't be." It was all he said before he stopped in front of a large rock, casting a spell on it before it revealed a large meadow.

"I know you're surprised, but we have to get in fast before it closes again." Once you both stepped inside, you noticed the meadow was covered by a bed of red roses.

This must be the place where he got all the roses... He moved behind you, his chest pressing against your back before he moved his hand around your neck to the front. He slowly moved it up to your chin, making you look up to the sky. "Look up, y/n."

Above you were the same constellations painted on the roof in his Room of Requirement. It was an exact copy of this place here, he made it exactly alike.

His fingers now moved back to your neck, taking the hair in front with him to give him access to your neck. You sensed him moving his lips closer to your ear, slightly touching the shell with his lips. "Do you like it? You're the first person to know."

Your breath caught in your throat once his lips touched your neck, he slowly moved lower. "Mhmm?" That's when he stuck out his tongue slightly to get a taste of your neck. "Answer me, y/n."

"Yes, I do... I do like it."

"Mhmm, good." He slowly started sucking on your neck, biting it every few seconds before turning you around to make you face him. His hand moved to the piece of hair covering your face, moving it behind your ear.

You couldn't help but take a glance at his lips, he was being extremely tempting right now. A sudden urge pulled you closer to him, you wanted to be closer to him. His gaze averted to your lips too, both of you almost touching now but not quite yet.

"Kiss me."

And that's exactly what you did, there was no shame in your actions, you weren't ashamed of how you were truly feeling. It felt right and natural...

He pushed his fingers through your hair and grabbed it softly, earning a soft moan from you as a result. Exactly what he wanted. He wasted no time to push his tongue inside your mouth, exploring it like it were a map. He needed to have tasted every part, twice to remember it.

The kiss became more intense as you both pressed against each other. Your bodies were pressed up against each other so tightly it was as if you were one entity. Your kisses were filled with heat, each kiss made his heart skip a beat. Your lips were so soft and your kisses were so passionate. It was almost as if your lips were made to please each other.

His hand moved away slightly to take his wand and with a flick, all roses grown in the ground immediately got rid of their thorns. Without a warning he picked you up and lay you down with him, his body on top of yours.

He pulled away to admire the sight of you lying on the bed of roses, your hair was spread all over the ground and he almost couldn't contain himself. He moved closer to whisper in your ear once again. "This is quite the sight but I’d much rather enjoy it without clothes..."

[upat4amwiththemoon]

can I request a Daisy Johnson x reader fanfic where reader works at shield and is the (secret) daughter of Coulson and May and only a small circle, not including Daisy knows who readers parents are. Reader and Daisy met at shield hq and Daisy ends up ranting to Coulson about the girl she met and after a while Coulson realises Daisy is talking about his daughter?

Accidental oversharing

Summary: The secret daughter of Phil Coulson and Melinda May.

Pairing: Daisy Johnson x female!reader, Philinda x daughter!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 772

a/n: day 1000 of wishing Marvel gave us more Daisy Johnson content

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore

masterlists | guidelines

“Oh shit!” A stack of papers falls to the ground as Daisy’s body bumps right into someone in the middle of the SHIELD headquarters’ hallway.

“I’m so sorry.” The other woman mumbles as she kneels down, starting to gather all the papers from the ground. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“No, it’s my fault,” Daisy picks up the few papers that flew further away.

The woman gives Daisy a small smile as she stands up, now holding all of her papers. She takes a double take, her brows scrunching together. “Aren’t you the Quake?”

“Oh god,” she cringes at the mention of her superhero name, “please call me Daisy. I hate that name.”

“Okay, Daisy. I’m Y/N.” Freeing one of her hands, Y/N reaches it out to shake Daisy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

It’s not that Daisy doesn’t pay attention to the people working at SHIELD, because she does, she makes sure to be at least polite to everyone (who deserves it), but right now she can’t help but stare at the woman in front of her, taking her in fully. “Uhuh.” She nods, shaking Y/N’s hand softly.

“Okay.” She lets out a small laugh before pulling her hand away from Daisy’s weak grip. “I really have to get going, but I’ll see you around, maybe.” Y/N waits for a couple of seconds before walking away.

“Yeah…” Daisy whispers, her eyes following her until she finally registers reality. “Wait what?” Her eyes widen as a visceral need to get the woman’s number comes over her. She desperately looks around to find the woman, but the sea of people has already hidden her from sight. “Shit.”

Daisy has no choice but to continue her way to Coulson, who called for her at least 30 minutes ago.

“Hey, Daisy?” Coulson’s hand waves in front of her face. “Are you listening to me?”

Daisy sighs, coming out of her dreamland as she focused her gaze on Coulson. “No, sorry AC.”

“What’s going on?”

Leaning her head over the back of the couch, Daisy smiles softly as she reminisces what happened not too long ago. “I bumped into someone, a woman, today. I don’t think I’ve seen her around before, because I’d definitely remember her if I had.”

“Someone finally caught your eye?” Coulson has a small grin on his face as he listens to her talk.

“What do you mean finally?” She scoffs, rolling her eyes before going to explaining. “She was so beautiful and nice, so cute, and I was acting so weird around her.” Daisy lays her hand over her face, a small grimace on it. “But I couldn’t help it! I got completely mesmerized by her.”

Though Coulson wanted to tease her at first, his grin turns into a genuine smile. Daisy hasn’t really paid attention to people after everything that happened with Ward and then Lincoln, so he is truly happy for her.

“I didn’t get her number though.” She mumbles. “But her name is Y/N, do you know her?”

At the mention of her name, Coulson’s brows raise. “Y/N? About yay tall, great hair, smiling all the time?” He gestures with his hands, wanting to make sure they’re thinking about the same person.

“Yeah! So you do know her?”

“Ask her number from May. I’m banner from that duty since I apparently don’t know how to judge a person’s vibes well enough.” He says it as if it’s the moat ridiculous thing he has ever heard, but there’s fondness in his tone.

Daisy furrows her brows, now lifting her head up properly to watch Coulson. “You know her well? May too?”

“Mhm.” He smiles, his arms crossed over his chest. “She is our daughter.”

There is a prolonged silence as Daisy tries to wrap her head around the sentence. “Daughter? You-“ she opens and closes her mouth, her wide eyes stuck on Coulson’s grinning face. “I know you two are together, but long enough to have a whole adult daughter?”

“Very few people know.”

“Why wasn’t I one of those people?”

“Security reasons. Don’t worry, none of the people on the team know.” Coulson takes out his phone, informing May that Daisy is now aware of their daughter.

“But-“ Daisy huffs before shaking her head. “Philinda daughter…” she mumbles.

“Please don’t call her that. May might hurt you.” Coulson pats Daisy’s shoulder. “Do you want her number?”

“Yes! Yes, I want her number.”

“Go get it from May-“ Daisy is already on her feet, “she is getting the bus ready.” And Daisy is gone, leaving Coulson to chuckle by himself.

[evenstar0600]

DECEPTION | t.riddle

IN WHICH: lucius malfoy never put tom riddle's diary in ginny weasley's cauldron. instead, history puts a twist on the events and the diary is put on a shelf in flourish and blott's, only to be picked up by an unsuspecting, muggleborn witch in hufflepuff; sixteen-year-old (Name) Tyler.

PAIRING: tom riddle x afab!hufflepuff reader

WARNINGS: dark/yandere(?), mind control, manipulation, animal death, murder, hypnotism, tom riddle is a warning on his own, mental breakdowns, insanity, lady macbeth arc(?), character death, etc

Your hands were shaking. They'd been doing that a lot lately. The skin around your fingernails was red raw and bleeding, due you picking them from stress. Your pupils were blown-wide yet had a distant look to them, as if you weren't in the moment itself at all.

Desparately, you tried to scrub the blood stains that wouldn't go away. They wouldn't wash off. You felt like you were going insane. Like you were losing your mind. How the fuck had it come to this? You knew exactly how it'd all come to this.

It was a dreary August day in the summer of 1992. And your parents decided to take you back-to-school shopping in Diagon Alley for your sixth year at Hogwarts. You recalled going into Flourish and Blott's, dodging through the ever-growing line to see the infamous Gilderoy Lockhart, whom you paid no mind.

You'd spied the even-more infamous Harry Potter in the line somewhere. You were more focused on obtaining your school books for this year when you'd caught sight of it in your peripheral vision. The diary. The vintage-looking, leather-bound diary with it's worn exterior and its off-white parchment pages. And the three-word name at the bottom in a gold-colour. Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Something scorched the back of your mind as helpless fingers plucked the diary off the shelf and into your cauldron with a clatter. To others, it was an unnoticed background noise but in your delirium, it sounded like the rolling East Winds of the storm last week. Crashing and forcing itself to be heard. You didn't want to take it but something beyond your control forced you to take it.

For the first couple of days back at Hogwarts, you'd neglected to write in it. Then you did. On the 9th of September, you finally wrote in it. The classic sentence starter of Dear Diary. Then came the reply. Hello (Name) Tyler. You adored Tom and wrote to him as often as you could.

Between classes. During lessons. During meals. After your dorm mates had gone to sleep. Then you began to experience the black-outs. One minute you were walking between classes; the next you found yourself near Hagrid's hut, robes drenched in a strange, crimson substance.

Your mind tried to deny it, the very fact, trying to convince you it was red ink or paint. But in your heart you knew the truth. You were covered in blood. The blood of the school roosters. And the guilt began to slowly eat you up. Consuming your heart. Clouding your mind. Until you began to soothe your madness by writing to your sweet Tom and picking the skin around your fingernails until it bled.

The same sinful red as the roosters' blood. Then the attacks followed swiftly. First, Filch's cat, Mrs Norris was petrified by the Basilik that you set loose on the school. You warned them. Writing the message in blood on the wall. The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir beware.

The victims of the Basiliks' petrification began to pile up. Sir Nicholas. Colin Creevey. Justin Finch-Fletchley. Penelope Clearwater. Hermione Granger. And it was all your fault. You'd condemned them to their fates. And the more paranoid you got. You'd hallucinate the blood on your hands. Scrubbing your hands for hours on end until they were red raw, just to get the fucking stain out.

You had your Tom to comfort you all. To soothe your ever-growing madness and paranoia. He'd appear to you sometimes. The tall, dark and handsome boy with his dark brown locks and insatiable smile. Then you figured it out. It was him. It was all him.

You'd pointed an accusatory finger at him, shaking like a leaf. "You..." you'd muttered in horror before meeting his piercing gaze with blown-wide pupils, "It's you!".

In a fleeted attempt to save yourself and anyone else, you stormed to the Girls' Lavatory on the third floor and threw the diary into the toilet. Thinking yourself safe, you relaxed. But you shouldn't have let your guard down. Tom had basically imprinted himself on you.

You always recalled his beautiful brown eyes piercing your soul, the very image was burnt into your memory. And no matter how many times you tried to forget, he always. came. back. You'd broken into Gryffindor Tower and basically ransacked the one of the Boys' Dormitories until you retrieved it.

Your diary.

You weren't yourself anymore. People around you noticed too. What happened to (Name)? Was something that was whispered among peers. Your bestfriend, Lily Peterson, had noticed too. You brushed her off, pushing her away. Then, tired of waiting, Tom summoned you down to the Chamber of Secrets.

His initial plan was to drain your life force so he could live again. But things changed. As the product of a love potion, he couldn't properly feel true, honest love but rather a warped version of it. Dark love. Obsessive love. Unjust love. His love was cruel. His touch was cruel. And he was cruel.

And you were his. No matter how you tried to stop him, you were always going to be his. "Mine," he'd murmur, holding your weak form against his own, carressing your face, "All mine,".

You'd tried to fight him off. But to no avail. You'd lost. Now, the world was going to feel Voldemort's wrath. And he'd start with the figure of twelve-year-old Harry Potter marching into the Chamber of Secrets.

[riddlesdoll]

can you rec some of your fav tom riddle fics? 🤍

omg, someone finally asked this question!!

1.) His Dark Lady - dxddydracomalfoyyy

This is probably the most loveable of them all, my fave book of all time.

2.) A Riddle to Solve - SSTAR2000

Another really unique book, the mc is really powerful although some parts are a bit cringe (?) because it feels like she's everything like those memes on tt of y/n. Overall a good book though (try it out).

3.) Oh, Ophelia - Maebelletree

I really love this too especially because it is a unique book, I haven't read any other tmr books like this.

4.) Now and then - hmmdisgustin

It is just like the title going back and forth from now and then.

5.) Kneel - JulieHoscar

I absolutely abhor Tom Riddle in this book, but I'm still going to recommend it because I still do like this book. This book make me feel ambivalent.

6.) RIDDLE. DISCONTINUED - ravenclaws-

Although this book was discontinued, it still has a very good plot line, it shouldn't have been discontinued, but I guess it is very hard to write a story. Maybe in the future it will be renewed (?) hopefully.

7.) Midmorning - murderarts

This book is heartbreaking, even though it is only a short story, I still feel emotionally attached to it.

That's it for the recommendation, notice I did 7? It's because it is believed that Tom riddle rather likes the number 7 and also because of his seven horcruxes.

DISCLAIMER: All of these are in wattpad!!

[westcanaan82]

The boys played a good game this week knowing you were there cheering them on.

Thanks to my fellow teammates @iclingtolife and @winniesallow for gearing up and tackling this week with me 💚🏈

[lemonnsss]

Moral of the Story: Chapter 8

Warnings: Mild tangent based off of an actual conversation I had (I'm actually from D.C. so this was fun), one singular bad pun- it deserves its own warning, and probably strained warning.

Feedback is always appreciated

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

Taglist: @vicmc624 , @mostlymarvelgirl , @yvonneeeee, @beetlejuicesupremacy , @moonlightreader649 , @whattheduckisupkyle , @chrisevans-realwife, @nekoannie-chan , @mrsbarnes32557038 , @imyourbratzdoll , @weallhaveadestiny

Word Count: 1.8k

“Apologies but until you had agreed and were here it was still considered confidential.”

“O-okay, um, where- or how should I start?”

The director stood across the bed from me, eyebrows furrowed, the room filled with silence apart from the constant, steady beeps of the machinery.

“How the hell should I know? You’re the one with the super-abilities.”

“Right, sorry, that was dumb. Do you know if any of his internal organs were damaged when he went under? Or have you had the chance to run any tests yet?”

“I’m sorry, what crash are we talking about?” Tony said, still standing in the doorway.

Fury pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance before responding, “When the Captain here decided to take a trip twenty thousand leagues under the sea he was in a, shall we say, pseudo-nazi aircraft with a fixed route on its way to the states. His options were to let the ship take its course and let millions die or take a nosedive, he took the latter, rather obviously. Speaking of,” the attention turned to me, “how did you know that?”

“Sir, I’m a licensed teacher from pre-k to high school- I’m not by any means immune to misinformation; although, I do have a bit more knowledge on the topic than most people- not to mention my…” my mind trailed off for a moment before coming back, “former colleague taught history, rather fitting as he lived through it, too.”

His one eye began to look me up and down, “Remind me, where did you work last? Aside from with the X-Men that is.”

There was an uncertainty in his voice that made the agents who went down the elevator with us glance at each other nervously. What I had seen twice in my less-than-a-day stint of knowing this man seemed uncommon or unsettling for those who had known him longer.

“I don’t believe I said. Besides, doesn’t your file on me say?” We were both fishing for information, a push and pull I’d grown adjusted to on the flight over.

He remained silent, motioning one of the residents to come over.

“S-so we ran s-some tests-,” he took a moment to breathe and calm himself down, he spoke with a light stutter, likely to have been more prevalent in his earlier years. It sounded like he had gotten speech therapy, and was likely better, nervous, but better, “a lot of the scans were, well are, useless. His blood, everything about him really, was frozen, barely mobile. So the extent of the internal injuries he potentially sustained upon impact is uncertain. I sent for some new prints of the scans we took last week, but they haven’t come in yet; they’ll probably arrive today but it’s pretty touch and go sometimes.” He finished talking with a meek smile, likely proud of how he handled the situation.

“You did the scans last week and they’re only coming in today?” I could feel the look of confusion that overtook my face, he chuckled lightly and rubbed his neck.

“Yeah, we don’t have the equipment to produce the scans here so we send them over to the hospital over in Takoma Park to print- they have the most up-to-date machinery, and they were the only ones willing to work with us privately- so it takes a bit of time.”

“Perks of D.C., eh? Either have the most outrageous tax or go out of district.”

“Exactly! Say, did you grow up ‘round here?”

“No, up in Salem. I used to teach. I planned enough ‘government trips’ to last a few lifetimes.”

I could’ve sworn I heard him mutter a few “cool” s under his breath before he spoke up again, “It was nice getting to talk with you, but I kinda have some other patients I gotta check up on.” he moved by Fury, a “sir” slipping out as he passed and a little wave to me as he left.

The four who accompanied me in the elevator looked at each other, all but Tony practically questioning if this was normal for me.

The director cleared his throat, calling my attention back over to him, "When can you start?"

"Oh! Any time. I was only wondering how badly he was hurt so I can give you my best estimation for how long it'll take me to finish this."

“Will this not be a one-time excursion?”

“...No? Not likely.”

I was done with conversing, done with this nonsense. Placing my hand on the captain’s chest the area where we touched began to glow with a golden hue- I’d always been told my eyes did the same. It was unlike healing Tony a year ago- I didn’t have to rush, it wasn’t life or death- I could take my time and triage.

His biggest issue was hypothermia, unsurprisingly. I felt the cold move through his body to mine. A deep chill settled in my bones.

I pulled away, “Do you know if there’s a heating pad somewhere? Or something like it?” I hadn’t looked at them, afraid of how they would react. A few seconds of silence passed before I turned to them- Tony looked confused, maybe he didn’t see what my powers looked like, and he probably had some blood loss going on at the time; Fury stood unwavering with the smallest tent in his brow, but then again who could read him; the male agent who’d gone with us was standing, mouth slightly agape; and the female agent was gone slipped out without a sound- weird.

She looked like she’d be the ‘hard-ass’ type despite her being, what, 5’3”-5’4”. She was maybe Tony’s age, though it was difficult to tell, her seemingly ageless golden skin a potential factor, Tony’s substance abuse didn’t exactly help his cause though.

She walked back in, a wired heating pad in hand, she lifted it in the air inquisitively before tossing it to me.

“Thank you, Agent-”

“It’s no problem.” She cut me off gruffly.

I set the heating pad up in a chair and sat down, placing my hand back on the captain, and, over a few hours, I healed him as much as I could before returning to the hotel for the night. A comfortable cycle that lasted for a few months.

I walked into S.H.I.E.L.D.’s office for what would likely be the last time, at least soon.

I walked up to the agents who had escorted me on my first day- Agents May and Coulson I’d learned.

“Ready for your last day?” Coulson asked a melancholic tone laced his voice.

“Are you excited to be done with babysitting me?” I teased.

I’d gotten more comfortable around Coulson, though it wasn’t exactly difficult with his rather ‘easy-going’ nature, and comfortable enough around Agent May to talk to her. We walked along the rather familiar path to Captain Rogers’ room. I made quick work of healing what remained of his injuries.

He still wasn’t awake. For whatever reason I thought Cap would wake up when I had finished healing him.

Coulson and I talked for a while before heading to the entrance once I’d gotten word back from Tony that his chauffeur was there to pick me up.

“I’m gonna miss you, kid.” he whispered, pulling me into a side hug.

“I’ll miss you too, Phil.” I replied, “ It was nice getting to know you, Agent-”

“May, call me May.” She cut me off, “And, unless you quit within the next year we’ll probably see you soon. Stark has an odd habit of getting in trouble with almost anyone and everyone.” 

“I’ll miss you too.”

A car horn was blaring outside for a minute and I knew it was Tony, “Guess that’s my cue, goodbye.” I sent them a soft smile and a wave before I got in the car.

A few months passed by with ease with the Stark Expo taking up more time and paperwork than I could’ve imagined. I walked in one day to see Coulson in Tony’s office.

“Phil? Oh my gosh, it’s so good to see you! What’s got you across the country?”

“It’s good to see you too, kid. I’m here because S.H.I.E.L.D. is requesting Mr. Stark’s presence.” He spoke rather cooly about Tony, a stark contrast to his normal.

“TONY! Did you break the Geneva Convention?!” Tony looked at me speechless, feigning hurt I would even think of it, Coulson stood beside me struggling and barely holding back a chuckle.

“No, unfortunately not. ‘We’ need to borrow him, more specifically the ‘Iron Man’ suit. As I was saying before, we have a helicarrier waiting for your arrival.”

��Okay, Tony. Please, stop being a bitch and get your shit. You’re lucky they step in enough to keep you out of prison for some likely war criminal activity. Suck it up and grab your bags.” I walked to Tony’s desk and put down his coffee before walking into my office and grabbing the duffel I had stuffed in the corner of the room.

I walked back out, “Where’d you say the plane was?”

Coulson showed me to the plane where we waited for about twenty minutes before Tony walked over with his bags. We piled in and got up to the helicarrier, a giant airbase I was told was legal.

May was waiting for us on deck and showed me to my room before leaving me to unpack.

I had to have been walking through those damn near identical hallways for half an hour before giving up.

After yelling into my hands I spoke, to no one but myself, “How do people even get around these things? It’s a whole death trap, I swear.”

“Exactly!” A voice called out from behind me. I turned around to find a familiar face, Captain America, “I guess you don’t work here either?”

“Oh, um, no. You couldn’t pay me to stay on this thing.”

He laughed revealing a warm smile that fit his beautiful, angel-like face perfectly.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Steve Rogers.”

“Kyrie Eirsson- I’m Mr. Stark’s personal assistant.”

I saw his eyes widen in recognition at the second half, “Oh! You’re the person I’m supposed to find.”

“What? Oh, fuck, that’s embarrassing.” I held my face in my hands, my face flushing furiously, I moved my fingers to see the Captain’s face. He stood across from me, face turned away, fist in front of his mouth in a failing attempt to hide his wide grin.

“In any case, Stark’s having a fit without you on the bridge. Shall we?” He held out his arm for me to take.

“I disappear for what, forty-fifty minutes and he goes nuts without me, shocker.” I took his arm gleefully, laughing at how ridiculous the situation was.

[writingsbychlo]

SPIDER | tom riddle

summary; tom riddle has a peculiar way of showing his affection, but he's nothing if not protective.

word count; 1625

notes; I woke up this morning with inspiration and I grabbed my laptop and banged this out before even getting up. if you hate it, I literally don't care <3

The flames of the fireplace flickered soothingly, the last warmth spilling out towards you in a subtle glow, hiding the reflections of the lake that danced around the room. Several other students were also still milling around, the Slytherin common room was never truly empty, not unless it was the summer break. Pulling the blanket a little tighter around your shoulders, you snuggled down a bit further, only stilling when the cold sense of someone else crept down your neck. 

This was a familiar chill, though. You were aware of someone else’s presence, and yet no part of that was threatening. A familiar cologne reached your nose, and before you’d even turned, you were greeting the man who stood behind you, “Hello, Tom.”

“Why are you down here?” He cut right to the point, never one for formalities, and your lips flickered up at the edges as he walked around the edge of the sofa and into your view. “You’re never up at this time.”

Always so observant. Your smile formed a little more every time he revealed something extra he’d noticed about you. That you liked a particular table in the library, that your favourite biscuits were chocolate hobnobs, that you didn’t usually stay up this late. Tom Riddle had a peculiar way of showing affection. Most people assumed he was cold, unfeeling, harsh. They couldn't be more wrong. 

Tom Riddle was a walking, talking, bleeding heart. He was an open wound, snapping like an injured animal when anyone came close. Tom Riddle was full of emotion, it just happened to be hidden behind a thick stone wall. But if you were allowed close enough to look through the cracks, the true Tom Riddle shone like golden light within. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” You teased, and he rolled his eyes, taking half a step closer to you and perching on the arm of the couch elegantly. 

“You know I go for walks at night.”

“And where do you go for these walks? What do you do on your oh-so-mysterious nightly walks?” You turned your body further towards him, the blanket slipping down from its place around your chin, and those calculating brown eyes tracked its fall along your arm.  

“That’s none of your business, and you’re avoiding the question.”

“You’re avoiding mine.” You retorted, and he simply gave you a dry look. Reaching out, Tom lifted the edge of the blanket back up and over your shoulder, securing it back into place. 

“Answer me.”

“Fine,” You sighed, head rolling across your shoulders and back towards the fireplace, watching the growing flames once again, “I saw a spider in my room. It crawled down the edge of my bed right before I could get in, and now I don’t want to go to sleep.”

You could feel Tom’s stare on you, the silence stretching between you both as he let the confession settle. There was half a chance he’d scoff, and half a chance he’d simply walk away now that he got his answer. He seemed to be debating between which one to go for. “Why didn’t Pansy get it out for you?”

Another question, not an option you’d considered, but not a surprise from him. “She’s not here, she’s at Luna’s tonight.”

More silence, and you took the chance to observe him instead. Tom Riddle was not one to cower away from a stare, and so as you watched him, he watched you too. Finally, he broke the silence, “I’ll get it for you.”

Now, that was a surprise. “You will?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” 

“Does it matter?” He shot back, standing once again, making it clear to you that you were to do the same, or he’d leave without you. Dropping the blanket down to the couch, the enchanted item folded itself back up and into the storage trunk you’d taken it from, as you smoothed out your jumper and followed Tom’s already retreating steps.

“It doesn’t matter, but I’m curious. Humour me.” You caught up with him, and he cut you a glance from the side of his eye. “You should also know that I’m very grateful, whether you choose to tell me or not. Thank you.”

The rigid lines of his shoulders softened a little at that. Should you know how to, Tom Riddle could be played like a fiddle. You smothered a snicker at the rhyme in your head as he let slip a small sigh. “I don’t want you to sit in the common room all night when I can perfectly easily take care of the problem.”

Your smile was full now, following him silently through the halls as he guided the way to your dorm. Opening the door, he was respectful enough to ignore the piles of mess on your roommate’s side of the dorm, looking straight towards your untouched bed, and the mug of now cold tea sitting on your bedside table. 

“Which side?”

“The far one.” You mumbled, tension creeping back into your body. What if it wasn’t there anymore? What if it had crawled elsewhere, and was now hidden somewhere in the room, ready to strike, or—

The screech of your bed frame moving snapped you from your thoughts as Tom pulled it away from the wall. It moved again, jarring along the wooden floor. Tom remained still, eyes moving for a second, two, before he suddenly strode forwards, ducking down and his hand shot out. He straightened a second later, with his hands cupped, and turned to you. 

He nodded his head towards the window, and you scurried across the room ahead of him, flinging open the window and backing far away as he neared. That made him scoff, rolling his eyes at your behaviour once again. He held his hands out of the window, shaking them off and letting the spider fall through the air, before pulling back, and clicking the catch back into place. He double-checked it, before casting his eye over the rest of the room. 

“Let me check for any more.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Your words fell on deaf ears, as Tom shifted your bed back into place, before peering behind both desks, your dressers and the wardrobe, and finally, the bathroom. He methodically checked each and every space within your dorm for you, leaving you to sit in the centre of your once again safe bed, watching him with a soft smile. Before leaving the bathroom, he washed his hands clean of the creature that had been crawling within them, before returning to you. 

“No more.”

“Thank you, Tom.” You whispered, his chin tucking in a single nod, but a frown on his face. 

“You already thanked me.”

“There’s no law saying I can’t thank you twice, or as many times as I please, for that matter.” Your smirk made him press his lips into a line, but he had no comeback and hated not having the final word. He was calculating, something else to say, something to spin this back onto you—

“Your tea is cold. You should reheat that, so you don’t waste it.”

Your gaze flickered to the mug, and back to him, shrugging. “I don’t feel like having it now.”

His sigh sounded frustrated, and he took a few more steps into the room, towards you, instead of the door. His voice had softened once again as he took you in, looking down at you with a gentler gaze than most ever saw. “Will you go to sleep now?”

“Soon, I think I’ll just read for a while, I’m not too tired yet.” 

He nodded. His jaw clenched as he glanced towards the door, but made no move to leave. The clock in the corner ticked, seconds passing by loudly in the space, and then, “Would you like to join me on my walk?”

His words were fragile, a rare show of vulnerability from him. Uttered quietly into the air that hung between you both, and your gasp almost startled him. “Really?”

He glared, answering your question with a fitting answer. Tom never said things he didn’t mean, and you knew that. Everyone knew that. But he’d never let anyone go on his walks before, it was a hotly debated topic and a running joke within the group about what exactly took place on these walks, and what nefarious things he likely got up to. 

“I’d like that.”

“Then put on some proper shoes, and quickly.” You did as he had, rather gruffly, commanded, swapping out the comfy slippers for some boots, and throwing on another jumper for extra warmth. Tom waited for you at the door, holding it open for you to step through. “Do you like the lake at night?”

“I’ve never been out to the lake at night.” 

He made a quiet sound of acknowledgement, a hum under his breath. “Then that’s where we’ll go. You’ll like it. It’s… peaceful.”

His hand flexed at his side as you walked together, and after clearing the common room and entering the silent corridors, you slipped your hand into his own. 

He stiffened, for only a second, before his fingers wrapped back around yours, and a smile pulled on his lips as he ducked his head. You and Tom had been dancing this line for years now, something more but not quite enough. 

Not yet. 

But you’d get there, someday. His actions told you enough. Enough to know that he felt what you did too, that you were certainly headed somewhere, on a collision course together. You belonged to Tom Riddle as much as he belonged to you. 

So, for now, holding his hand as you walked the lake, and letting him chase spiders out of your room was enough. 

[messedupfan]

Chapter 5

Summary: Reader and Wanda hang out together with some of their friends and get to know each other a bit better.

A/N: So sorry for the late chapter but this thing is almost 7k words and it was very difficult to find a stopping point. Chapter 6 is most likely going to be late as well, hopefully I can get back to my schedule. Thank you all for your patience and for reading. I truly appreciate all of you! Enjoy!

Masterlist | All Chapters | All Stories Taglist

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Spending a week in the woods, camping with Rachel, has been a tradition since she could walk. Jean only participated in the first two. After the divorce you weren't sure you wanted to keep the tradition but Jean made a few good points on why you should continue it. Now, years later, it's the best way that you get to bond with Rachel beyond the distracting devices and all of her shows and music. You do your best to keep up with all of it but she is constantly changing. You encourage it, of course. But it's hard to feel connected with your daughter. Except on these trips. 

You rent the same spot every year. The two of you build the tent together and make it cozy inside. Then you set up the fire pit and she finds the best spots for the chairs. The two of you make food together over the fire. Tell jokes and scary stories. Remain completely unplugged for the entire trip. At night she snuggles close and you cherish the way she holds you tight because you know there will be a day a few years from now when she won't. She'll be upset with you because you'll be upset with her. Things will get tough, as they do with growing up, and you won't get as many hugs as you do now. And she'll continue to grow up and find her own way in life and her snuggles and these camping trips will be nothing but a distant memory. 

Between meals the two of you make up games, talk to each other, and you teach her what you can think of at the moment.  The two of you swim in the lake nearby and have fun splashing each other. A dog runs up to her when she’s eating her food and you already know that she's going to start asking for a dog. Luckily, you're able to convince her that she's still too young for one. 

All too soon, it's Friday morning and the two of you are packing up the campsite. It's sad putting away the fun week but it's what has to be done. Once your truck is packed up, you hit the road and she's finally able to use her phone again. The entire drive home she is blasting her favorite songs and singing at the top of her lungs. Once you're back in town you're reminded of your plans and at a stop light you message Wanda to see if she's still up for drinks. You don't get a reply until you're pulling up to your apartment building. 

Too nervous to check, you unload the car and get Rachel comfortable before you check your messages. I’ll see you at seven? Your shoulders drop from the relief. You call your sister, Kate, and ask if she can babysit for a couple of hours. 

“Oh… does someone finally have a date?” She inquires and it makes you roll your eyes. 

“No, I'm just grabbing drinks with some friends,” you clarify. 

“You’re so boring,” she groans. “Alright, I'll babysit. I don't mind spending some one on one with my favorite niece!”

“She’s your only niece,” you laugh at her enthusiasm. 

“Exactly,” she says. “I’d have other favorite nieces, maybe even nephews, but no. You refuse to make anymore.”

“Gross, you do realize that you're upset with me for not getting laid, right?” The line goes quiet and you wonder if she's even there anymore. “Hello? Kate?”

“I’m here, I just had to go scrub my brain with bleach to remove the last few minutes from my memory.” She says nonchalant, as if that was the most normal thing to do. “Anyway, I'll be there in a few. You better leave me some money for food.”

“Of course, I'll see you in a bit. Thank you so much,” you say your goodbyes and hang up. You walk to Rachel’s room and knock on her door and enter once she says you can. “Hey kiddo, aunt Kate is coming over to watch you for a bit. I have something… I mean I will be… uh, I have to do something.” You cringe at how you’re fumbling telling her that you’re going out. Normally, to avoid this, you would plan to do something on a night you don’t have her. But you only have yourself to blame for this. 

“Okay, have fun,” she says as she scrolls through her phone. 

“Okay,” you almost want to laugh at how easy that was. “Okay,” you repeat yourself. “I’m going to shower so can you let your aunt in if she gets her before I’m out?” 

Rachel nods, “Yeah no prob, now go! You don’t want to smell gross for your date.”

“It’s not a date,” you clarify and Rachel mutters something to herself that you can’t decipher but decide you don’t want to know anyway. “Please don't ever grow up,” you say with a smile and she looks up at you with big eyes like her mother. 

“I have to someday,” she says seriously and it crushes something in you. As a parent, that is possibly the best and worst response to ever hear. “Now go, please,” she says with a small wave of her hand. 

You finally leave her room, closing the door to the point that it's left to a crack. Just to mess with her a little. Then you head to the shower because you haven't had a proper one in several days. Your daughter is right, you do smell pretty gross. When you step out you hear your sister and Rachel laughing at something playing on the television. You finish getting dressed and when you walk out with a smile to greet the two girls they look up at you with horror. 

“What?” You ask as you look at your t-shirt and jeans. Your usual attire. 

“Is that what you're wearing?” Kate asks as she slowly eats the popcorn from the bowl between her and Rachel. 

“Yeah, why? What's wrong with it?” You laugh at their judgmental eyes. 

“Nothing, it's just so… you,” Kate replies with disgust. 

“That’s a bad thing?”

“No,” she pauses as she continues to look you up and down. “It’s just not a good thing.” 

You shake your head with a laugh, “Gee thanks, little sis. But it's nothing to get bent out of shape over. It's just drinks with some friends. I highly doubt Steve or Phil are going to have anything to say about my outfit.” You grab your jacket and put it on despite Kate's commentary about not wearing it. “What? I checked the weather.  It might rain tonight.” 

“I’m sorry, Rach. You’re not going to get another step-mom anytime soon,” Kate says. 

Rachel is hardly paying attention to the conversation anymore so when her aunt speaks to her it takes a moment for her to respond. She shrugs, “It’s okay, Ms. Wanda likes their work uniform. She won’t mind this, I guess. I just thought she deserved better from them.” 

“Oh, she has a name? And she knows Rachel?” Kate says in surprise, happy to be getting the good details now. “This must be serious.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose as you shake your head. “No, it’s not. I’m not dating anyone, Kate. Stop encouraging this kind of behavior.” You say, frustrated from having to repeat yourself constantly. You never liked this kind of teasing. It makes you uncomfortable and feel like you have something to prove. Besides, it's not fair to the other person who can't defend themselves. You grab your wallet, phone, and keys. “I don't have cash on me so I’ll send you the money for dinner. Thank you for watching her.” You say as you get a text from Wanda that she's already at the bar and sends you her location to double check that it's the right one. You send her a thumbs up. “I’ll be right around the corner so if there's any kind of emergency do not hesitate to call. Okay?”

“Of course,” Kate says. She hands Rachel the bowl of popcorn and gets off the couch. She stands in front of you and pulls you in for a hug. “I’m sorry, I know I tease you a lot but… I just want you to be happy.”

You hold your sister for a second and pull away and smile at her. “I am happy, kiddo. You don't need to be in a relationship to find happiness.” 

She pats your check with a fake expression of pity. “Oh, you are so single. It's sad.” 

You shake your head with a hearty laugh. “Whatever, weirdo.” You step away from her and go to join Rachel on the couch to give your daughter a hug. “I love you, nugget. I'll see you in the morning.”

“Morning? You’re going to be out all night?” She asks in surprise. 

“No, sweetheart. You’ll be in bed by the time I come home.” You tell her with a soft laugh. “I’ll be back here tonight and will be making your favorite breakfast in the morning. Don’t worry.” You tap your finger to her nose and she scrunches her face with a giggle. 

“Okay, have fun!” She gives you one last side hug, careful to not spill the bowl of popcorn. 

Finally, you leave the apartment building and walk a few blocks down to your favorite bar. You used to work there when you turned twenty-one and learned many skills that you don’t use anymore unless it’s to try and impress someone you’re interested in. Especially since the owner has a soft spot for some of his former employees and will let you behind the bar to let you do a trick or two. 

Walking inside The Hub you grow nervous because this will be the first time you and Wanda intentionally hang out together. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to talk about. What if there is nothing to talk about? How are you supposed to continue to go to her house and eat her food if she hates you after this? Steve is sitting at the bar talking with Phil. You met Steve when working here, he was the one who trained you in mixology. 

Steve served in the military before you met him here. His usual story is that he only enlisted because he didn’t have a direction at eighteen and needed something to help him make good money early in life. The real story is that he spent the majority of his life training to be in the military. His entire family is in the military, it was all he knew. But once he was actually in battle he realized that life wasn’t for him. When he finished his six year commitment to the Marines, he didn’t renew his contract and hasn’t spoken to his family because of it. To say they didn’t approve would be an understatement.  

“Rogers!” You greet him happily. You do a quick handshake and pull each other into a half hug. “It’s been a while, I’m glad you could make it out.” You sit next to him. 

“I’ve been good, Peggy and I just got a place together,” he says with a grin as he takes a sip from his beer. 

“That’s awesome man,” you congratulate him. 

“Wow, it’s like I don’t exist,” Phil says as he sets a glass down in front of you and pours your favorite drink for you. 

“I was going to get to you,” you laugh at his impatience. “How’s it been, Coulson? The place looks busy. I can’t even find the person I invited out.” You look around to find Wanda and her friend but have no luck from where you’re sitting. 

“Yeah, business has been good,” he says with a frown as he throws his rag over his shoulder. 

“Why does that sound like it's a bad thing for you?” Steve picks up on the bar owner's mood. 

Phil leans on the bar and sighs. “My daughter is home for the summer and she needed a job but no one was willing to hire her so I thought what’s the worst that could happen? Turns out, it’s this.” He points to the crowd of guys that keep looking over at the bar to catch a glimpse of Phil’s daughter and you laugh as you realize that the ratio of males to females is not what you’re used to at this place. 

“Where is she?” Steve asks and you nudge him as you shake your head. “What? I just want to see her. It’s been a while. Geez, I’m in a committed relationship, Y/n.” 

Phil looks at Steve, “No one is seeing my daughter tonight. She isn’t scheduled to come in. I’ve made sure to give her all Friday’s to Sunday’s off.” He says proudly. You point out the room full of customers that don’t know and he laughs. “I’m not going to tell them that. I still need to keep this business afloat.” You nod with a smile as someone comes up from behind him and you recognize her from the photos that Phil has in his office. She is much more mature now than she is in those photos and you can see why she draws in a crowd. You clear your throat to get Phil’s attention and point her out to him. He spins around. “Daisy! I gave you the day off! Why are you here?” 

“Calm down, Grant asked me to cover his shift. Besides, these are the busiest nights and I can make great tips,” she explains as she ties her apron on. Her and Phil have a quiet argument and you and Steve watch in amusement. 

As guys come to crowd the bar you and Steve step away and you are reminded why you’re there in the first place. She is across the room, sitting in a booth in the corner chatting with her friend. Wanda looks up and the two of you make eye contact and you smile as you grab Steve’s attention. A soft blush warms her cheeks and she looks away from you. “There she is,” you tell him. Steve isn’t sure who you’re looking at so he lets you lead the way. You join her and her friend in the round booth. “I’m sorry it took so long to find you. This place isn’t usually this busy. Believe me, I used to make the worst tips here.” 

Wanda laughs, “Okay, I’ll just have to take your word for it.” The two of you stare at each other for a moment. Not sure how to act around each other in this setting. She takes a drink from her cup and points to her friend. “This is my best friend, Carol Danvers. She’s in the Air Force.” You reach your hand across the table to introduce yourself, mentioning that it was an honor to meet her.

“An honor?” Steve scoffs in offense. “I served six years and you never said it was an honor to meet me.” 

“That’s because you’re a nightmare,” you retort. 

“I will have you know, I am a delight,” Steve defends himself. “I’m Steve Rogers by the way.” He offers his hand to Wanda first then Carol. “I know, it's an honor to meet me.” The girls laugh at his joke and you shake your head. 

You turn to Wanda, “I’m sorry about him. Now you can see why I'm in search of some new friends.” 

Wanda nods with her eyebrows raised, “I won't lie, I half expected you to bring Rachel's mom or my brother.” She admits in a laugh. “So, how'd the two of you meet?” 

“Here,” you state as you sip your beverage. “We used to work together here.” You tip your glass to her friend who is engrossed in a conversation with Steve about basic training and sharing war stories. “How did the two of you meet?” 

Wanda looks at Carol and then looks back at you. “We met at a party in high school,” she shrugs. “We didn't go to the same school, we just knew a few of the same people and became friends that way.”

“Oh that's cool. Which high school did you attend?” Wanda tells you about the high school she attended in another state. Then she goes into how she made her way out here. That she got into the university here and that's where she met Vision. How she got into architecture. She talks about how her parents weren’t ever married and that her father moved out here when she was in middle school. Which is part of what influenced her choice in university. Explains how Pietro followed along shortly after and worked under their father to prepare to take over the construction business for him. 

Before she can continue on with her life story, Daisy comes over to the table with a notepad and a few menus. “So my dad is having a bitch fit and now I'm your personal server tonight. Here,” she tosses the menus onto the middle of the table. “I will be back every five minutes. Go.” She walks away and you laugh. 

“The service is wonderful here,” Carol says sarcastically. 

“Oh yeah, definitely employee of the month,” Wanda chimes in and the two women share a look before laughing at each other. Steve makes a funny face to you and you shrug because you have no clue what their inside joke is. Wanda grabs a menu and turns to you. “What would you recommend?” 

“The loaded nachos and that’s it,” Steve cuts into the conversation. 

You nod, “Yeah, that’s the only thing that doesn’t go in the toaster oven.” 

“A toaster oven?” Wanda scoffs at the idea that an establishment would be allowed to get away with such a thing. But you nod, not showing any sign of the information being a joke. “Wow, okay. Loaded nachos then.” 

“My goodness! There you two are!” A woman says as she gets close to the booth. “I have been to three bars looking for you guys. What are we doing here?” She slides in next to you on the booth and she gives you a flirty smile. “Oh, hello,” she winks at you then she leans on the table to talk directly to Wanda. “Now I know why you were ignoring my texts.” She returns her attention to you, “Tell me cutie, are you single?” 

Wanda bursts out laughing at your uncomfortable expression as the strange woman strokes your arm. “Agatha, pump the brakes. This is the friend I told you about.” 

Agatha stops trying to flirt with you and her eyes widen. “Oh! You’re them! Oh, honey why didn’t you say anything,” She swats your shoulder as she lets out a boisterous laugh. Agatha holds her hand out to you, “Agatha Harkness, pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 

You accept her hand and shake it quickly before dropping it. “Nice to meet you as well, I’m Y/n.” 

“Oh honey, I know who you are.” She directs her next words to Wanda. “You told me they were cute but you didn’t say they were hot!” 

You look at Wanda with raised eyebrows and a teasing smirk. “Yeah, explain yourself, Wanda.” 

Wanda opens and closes her mouth as she blushes. She knew she shouldn’t have used any sort of compliment as a descriptor. “I never said Y/n is cute.” She says as she points her finger at Agatha. 

“Right, you didn’t say cute,” Agatha gives her a big wink. 

“If it evens the score, Y/n told me that Wanda is very pretty,” Phil chimes in as he comes over with a tray of drinks. You had told him the kind of drink you wanted Wanda to try when you texted him earlier about being here. He said that he’d have them ready once you lasted more than ten minutes at the table with her. “If you ask me, Y/n is a little smitten.”

You shake your head, “It’s a good thing no one asked you then.” Steve makes an ooh sound, Carol laughs and Wanda appears a little impressed. “Thank you, Phil. I appreciate everything you do.” You rush out with an apologetic smile. 

“You’re lucky I know you,” he says after he clears the tray. “Otherwise I’d pay Steve here to throw you out of here.” 

“Oh please, you wouldn’t have to pay me.” Steve says as he grabs his glass, “I’d gladly do it for free.” 

You nod your head, “Yup, these are the people I call my friends.” 

The two men laugh and Daisy returns to the table. “Know what you want yet?” She asks with her notepad and pen ready. 

“Two orders of loaded nachos please,” Steve says. “And a side order of your number,” he winks. Phil smacks the back of Steve’s head. “Ow! I was joking!”

“Behave, I won’t tell you twice,” Phil says unamused while the rest of you try to not laugh. 

Steve salutes him, and then looks at Daisy. “I’m sorry, we’ll just have the nachos, please.” 

The night continues like that, with humorous bits and teasing. Daisy returns every few minutes to check on the table and you order a couple rounds of shots that you want Wanda to try.  You watch her to see if she likes them and when she makes a comment about how you know good drinks Steve points out that you have a home court advantage. To which Carol suggests a change in venue for an even playing field. You pay for the nachos and some of the drinks as Wanda refuses to let you cover the entire bill. 

As you’re leaving The Hub, Daisy pulls you aside while everyone else walks out. You look at her confused and she writes her phone number on a paper in the notepad. She rips it out and slips it in your pocket with a sultry, “Call me.” You find the gesture to be a little funny but you don’t reject her right there. You figure that you’ll probably never use the number. Out of respect to her father and to her. You thank her and walk out the door to catch up with your group. 

As they’re walking Wanda thinks of something to ask you and turns around only to find you missing from the group. She looks around and sees the interaction between you and Daisy through the window. Her eyes widen when she sees the girl stick her fingers in your front pocket. She feels a pang of jealousy but she isn’t sure that’s exactly what she is feeling. Maybe she was feeling off from all of the alcohol they were mixing. Why would she be jealous of you getting some girl's number? You seemed close with her father, so you could be receiving that number for any reason. And yet, she couldn’t shake the fact that seeing that intimate interaction bothered her. When you appear in front of her asking where the five of you are headed off to next, she has to snap herself out of her head. She shrugs because she was so focused on herself that she wasn’t paying attention to the rest of them.

Steve points to a place a few buildings down that the group of five make agree to and their way over. This place was more of a nightclub and there is a crazy long line to get inside which you were completely fine with. It gave you some time to talk with Wanda while waiting. She asked you a lot of questions this time, to get to learn more about you. All you talk about is how you’re from this city and go into the details of your family. How you didn’t like being a child of a bitter divorce and that you wanted better for your daughter. Then you talk about the different types of jobs you’ve had since you were fifteen. And you reveal how you’re working towards a business degree at the community college because you’ve always wanted to start your own handmade furniture business. Steve hypes up your work when he overhears that part of the conversation. You awkwardly thank him and next thing you know, the five of you are inside the club. 

Once inside, you hate it immediately.  The music is loud making it difficult to hear. It’s hot and the air is thin. It was hard to breathe in anything other than the aroma of alcohol and the smell of other people’s sweat.  The place is full and cramped with sweaty bodies knocking into or grinding on each other which makes it hard to stick together. The flashing and rapidly moving lights are unpleasant and difficult to see through. Wanda grabs the collar of your shirt and roughly pulls you close so that you can hear her, “Can we leave?” 

You nod without hesitation and turn around to tell the rest of them that it’s time to go but Carol, Agatha, and Steve have disappeared in the crowd. Wanda grabs onto your jacket with a tight grip so she doesn’t lose you while you search for the other three. You spot Agatha first, she is grinning as she dances provocatively with some random man. Next you spot Carol smiling at a woman as she leans against the bar. Lastly, you find Steve getting excited about spotting a group of guys he recognizes. It’s as if those three were in this place for longer than a few minutes and made themselves very comfortable in the environment. 

You wrap your arm around Wanda’s waist to pull her close to talk, “I think we’re just going to have to wait outside for them.” Wanda nods and agrees telling you that she just wants to get out. You guide her through the many bodies that are colliding together as they dance to the booming music until the two of you are finally outside. “Oh my goodness I never thought I was going to breathe fresh air again!” You exaggerate once you’re free. 

Wanda laughs, “Oh man I had no idea that’s what those were like! I don’t really see the appeal of a place like that!” 

“We’re not drunk enough to enjoy it,” you shrug. 

“I guess not,” Wanda looks at you. “Were you a person that could handle a club like that?” 

You look back at the building and know that there are photos of you in that place somewhere online so there was no point in lying, it was a part of your life that you’re not proud of but a part no less. You nod, “Before my divorce, no way. I was a full-time parent and spouse. After my divorce however…” you drag out as you’re not sure how else to put it. Wanda nods in understanding but you feel like you still have to explain yourself. “Those first few weeks with no family to come home to were so lonely. I’m sure you know how it is. That quiet and isolation is so suffocating. So, yeah, I lost myself in a place like this.” You think back on that time and your reaction to going into that place back then is very different from how you reacted just now. “It’s been a while though and honestly, I cannot tell you how I did it. I don’t know how they’re doing it now!” 

Wanda laughs in agreement, “I guess it’s fun for some people. A nightmare for others. And an escape for those who need it.” 

“That’s an interesting observation,” you say. “Did you ever do stuff like this before having the boys?”

Wanda makes a face and looks back at the building then back to you, “No,” she drags the word out.“It always seemed like my worst nightmare and well… I was right.” 

You nod, “Yeah, it doesn't seem like your kind of thing. Sorry about that, I probably should have shut this idea down.”

“Don't be, I could have said something, I mean we were waiting in line for like an hour. I was curious and now I'm not.” She says with a shrug. Wanda looks around the street and spots another bar with a calmer setting that also has an outdoor option. “Want to go there?” She points it out and you look it over a bit. If you get a spot close to the railing, Steve and the girls will be able to see the two of you from the club when they exit. 

“Sure,” you offer your elbow for her to take. Wanda accepts it and makes a comment about chivalry and you laugh. The two of you cross the street and enter the establishment. It’s the type of place where you have to wait to be seated. So you tell the hostess two for outside and she grabs a couple menus and leads you to the empty corner table you had spotted from the club. You thank her and pull the chair out for Wanda, she looks at you funny. “What? You’re the one who said chivalry wasn’t dead. I have to continue to keep it alive.” 

“That’s too bad,” she pulls the other chair out, “because now it’s my turn.” She pats the back of the chair, “Have a seat, Y/n.” You look at the gesture and happily accept it. Wanda walks around to claim her seat, “There, now we’re even.” 

“Are we? I wasn’t keeping score,” you open the menu and start to look it over. You have only been here a couple of times and are still relatively unfamiliar with what they carry.

Wanda sits there and stares at you for a moment as read the menu. Not knowing the impact your words had on her. Most of her life has been an ongoing score board. If someone did something nice for her she made certain to do something even nicer, expecting them to do something in return. That’s just how relationships and friendships seemed to happen in her life. It wasn’t until halfway through her marriage with Vision that she realized that behavior wasn’t exclusive to good deeds. The amount of bad things they did to each other until the end of it when Vision won and continues to win… Cracks are starting to break through the rose colored lenses. 

“Can I get you two anything to drink to start?” A handsome waiter with a winning smile asks, breaking Wanda out of her thoughts. You tell him that you’re going to have a glass of water and one of the local IPA’s. “And for the pretty lady?” The man doesn’t hide that he is checking her out and though Wanda is flattered by the attention, she wasn’t comfortable with it being from him. 

“I’ll just have water,” she says shyly. 

“Actually, cancel the IPA, I’ll just have the water,” you change your order. You don’t want to be drinking anymore alcohol if Wanda is stopping. “And I’ll add an order of the grilled bread and good olive oil.” You notice that the waiter isn’t taking his eyes off of Wanda and you notice how she seems to shrink under his gaze. “Would you like another appetizer, honey?” you clear your throat as you ask. Not comfortable with using the term of endearment. Wanda sits up as it sounds foreign from you but she notices that the waiter has finally stopped looking at her. 

“Oh um, yeah, babe, you know what I like,” she tries her best to play along as she looks over the appetizers. “You’re so silly, you know that I like the-the… oh! White truffle garlic bread. That’s what I’ll have. For us,” she reaches across the table for your hand, “to share.” You bite your lips to keep from laughing as you nod and throw in a wink. 

“Will that be all for now?” The man’s flirty demeanor has changed to a more professional one and you know that although the both of you are horrible at pretending, you’ve been able to pull it off. 

“Yes, that’s all for now, thank you,” you say politely. He walks away and once he’s gone, you can’t help but laugh a little. “Oh I think we hurt his feelings.” 

Wanda smiles and hums, “That’s what he gets for being creepy.” She removes her hand from yours. “Thank you for that, by the way.” 

You wave her gratitude off, “It’s nothing. He should be focused on his job and not making his customers uncomfortable.” 

Wanda crosses her arms and leans on the table, “Did you ever pick anyone up when you were a bartender?” 

You laugh and shake your head, “No, I was still married when I started the job and then I was enjoying being out of a relationship when the divorce happened. I got to learn a lot about myself in that time.” 

“Have you dated since your divorce?” 

“I have been on a few dates. But I haven’t committed to a relationship since Jean,” you admit. “And it’s not because I still have feelings for her. Things between us ended for a reason and we’re still friends. That’s what we were always meant to be. But I haven’t met someone that I could introduce to her.” 

Wanda makes a face, “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, when she started dating, she kind of made up a system to weed out the people she wasn’t sure if they would work out or not. If she didn’t think she could introduce them to me without a doubt that I would be comfortable with them being around Rachel, then she wouldn’t pursue it. Now she’s happily married to the woman of her dreams,” you elaborate. 

“Huh,” Wanda says. The waiter returns with a pitcher of water to fill two glasses and the two plates of appetizers. When he disappears she continues the conversation. “I’ll probably be single forever then,” she says before she drinks her water. 

You laugh as you chew on the bread, “Oh yeah, that system is not designed for people like Vision.” 

Wanda shakes her head, “Nope. I’m sure he already has a file of every bad thing you’ve ever done prepared for drop off on Sunday.” 

“Oh gosh, so you’re saying I shouldn’t have accepted that follow request from hotgurl69?” You say with a smirk. 

Wanda stops chewing and stares at you with uncertainty, “You’re joking.”

“No, I’m not,” you grin as you pull out your phone to show her the obviously fake account that followed you during the week. It had a couple of posts of an objectively attractive woman but not someone that is your type. You hand it to Wanda and she shakes her head in disbelief as she looks it over. “I didn’t actually allow the account to follow me but oh that was something to see when I got back.” 

“He is a nutjob,” Wanda says under her breath. She blocks the account just for her sanity. “I am so sorry about that,” she returns your phone to you. “That’s ridiculous, he is such a child.” 

“There you guys are!” Carol says with a girl under her arm. “These are my friends. That’s Wanda and that’s… Wait. What’s your name again?” She points to you and you smile as you introduce yourself to the girl. 

“Hi, I’m Maria Rambeau,” she says with a grin. “It’s nice to meet you guys!” 

“Likewise,” Wanda smiles. 

“We’re about to head out, I just thought I’d tell you so you didn’t assume the worst. Also, Agatha went home with some Ralph guy. I don’t know. But have fun,” Carol waves as she walks away fast so that Wanda can’t convince her to stay. You and Wanda laugh as the group has gone their separate ways for the night. 

You look at your phone to send a message, “I should probably check on Steve and oh! His girlfriend had an emergency and he went home.” You close the phone and put it in your pocket. “I guess it’s just you and me, that is unless you’re ready to go home.” 

Wanda looks at the half eaten bread on the table, then to the busy street full of people walking by and businesses that are alive, and then at you. Smiling at her with kind eyes that make her feel special. Eyes that make her nervous in the best possible ways. “No, I’m okay to stay a little longer,” is what she wants to say. But she isn’t sure what would happen if she did stay. How would the night end with just the two of you past this point? Would the two of you go on a stroll and continue to talk? Will there be a moment where the two of you get swept up by some romantic setting and she does something stupid like kiss you? She doesn’t want to risk this growing friendship for something so silly. Besides, you and her brother will be at her house tomorrow fixing her wall. She has already looked foolish in front of you plenty of times in the few weeks that you’ve known each other. She doesn’t need to add to that list tonight. 

“Actually, I am a bit tired. Knowing Pietro, I’ll be waking up at six in the morning to let him in,” Wanda explains. “This was really nice, thank you for inviting me out. I haven’t had the courage to do something like this in a while. We should do it again sometime.”

“Yeah, and hopefully something that keeps everyone interested and engaged,” you reply. “I’ll cover the bill, we don’t want to give prince charming over there any reason to make some move on you because I can’t pay for your meal,” you say as you pull out your card.

“Ah well, it’s only appetizers,” she remarks. “If I were him, I’d probably say something about the lack of a three course meal.” 

“Oh, no worries,” you say as you wave the waiter over. “I’m two steps ahead of you.” The waiter approaches and you ask for the bill. He makes a face stating that you’ve only ordered appetizers. “Yeah, we got a call from the sitter,” you start and glance at Wanda to see her start to smile. “Six kids is a lot to handle for one person. We rarely ever get to have an uninterrupted evening like this,” you lie easily and Wanda tries to hide her amusement. 

“Yeah,” she adds with a disappointed sigh, “And can you believe we’re expecting seven and eight?” She reaches across the table again for your hand and squeezes it with excitement. 

The waiter's eyes widen, “Wow uh, congratulations! You could never tell. Since this was a celebration, you know what, the meal is on the house.” You are surprised and insist on paying but he clears the table and allows you and Wanda to leave without paying. 

The two of you walk to the end of the street where you’re headed in opposite directions. “My apartment is that way,” you point to the building you’ve called home for the past year and a half. Wanda nods as she makes a comment about the building looking nice. Then she turns and points to the parking garage where she parked her car. “I will see you tomorrow then,” you say awkwardly, not really sure how to end the night. 

“Tomorrow,” she repeats, “Goodnight, Y/n.” Wanda walks away and you head home after bidding her a goodnight as well.

When you walk in, the place is quiet other than the soft volume of the television that Kate is watching. “So? How’d it go?” she asks in a whisper. 

You shrug as you remove your jacket, “It was fun. Her friends ended up finding people to go home with and Steve had to head back to Peggy. Wanda and I got to spend some time alone and it was nice. Plus, do you remember Daisy? Phil’s daughter?” You are sitting next to your sister on the couch now. Kate nods as the name rings a bell. “Well she’s home from school and she gave me her number.” 

“Oh, she has had a crush on you forever,” Kate admits. 

You make a face, “Really?” You don’t want to believe your sister, especially not since she is constantly making comments on your lack of a love life. But it does explain why she made the move on you when you hadn’t shown any interest in her all night. “Oh well, I’m not going to call her anyway.” 

“Why not? Things go well with Wanda?” She tries to see if you’ll admit that there is anything more than friendship between you and Wanda and you roll your eyes at her attempt.

“You’re insufferable, you know?” Kate shrugs and asks again why you’re not going to use Daisy’s number. “One, it’s none of your business and two she’s Phil’s daughter. That’s weird, I consider him a friend. I can’t just date his little girl without him knowing. Then I can’t end things with her if he does. It’s way too complicated.” 

“Is it? Or are you making it complicated?” Kate challenges and not having the energy to even try to argue with her, you get off the couch. 

“I’m going to bed. You know how to use the pull out,” you walk to your room. “Goodnight,” you call out to her behind you.

Chapter 6

Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @agaymilflover @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @evenbeingcrazy1998 @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @notbornbutforged @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiwritesfanfics @lizziesplant @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer @scarlettwidow34 @chasethemoon @raven-ss @canyonyodeler

[sriracharocks]

Tom Riddle as an Academic Rival - Headcanons

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

"You believe you can surpass me. How adorable."

Smirks at you whenever he notices your nose buried in a book in the Great Hall because he has already finished preparing for the exam

He finished it like a MONTH ago

He knows you're wayyyyyy behind and struggling to keep up with him because his pace of studying is not normal

"I'm Tom Riddle, darling. You can't dethrone me even in your wildest dreams."

Is completely calm on D Day while you freak out with frizzed up hair and crinkled robes because you ran out of time to look after yourself in the morning

Can't really blame you; you were busy revising your notes after all

Absolutely slays in his exam

Come on, you knew he would; you saw how he took so many supplements to write his answers in his elegant cursive

That completely freaked you out because even though you were far from an average student, you didn't write as much as he did

Manages to finish early even after writing so much, while you submit your parchment on the dot

Smirks at his report card, satisfied that he got an O

Looks over at yours and his smirk grows so big, you want to slap it off his face

"An E... Not bad, but not an O after all. Better luck next time."

And when you do get an O, you manage to impress him

"Oh, so you decided to utilise your brain cells instead of letting them rot. Good."

Says that with a poker face but is internally screaming

"How the hell did this girl get an O?"

Is surprisingly relieved when you get an E on the next exam

"I'm the one on top. Always was, always will be. One or two Os don't scare me."

[galaxysupreme17]

Scarlet Widow

Okay, so I have been on an Avengers and Criminal Minds binge. I was pacing around my room thinking of writing prompts, and a crossover between the two came to my mind, and I needed to get it out before I forgot. This is Emily Prentiss X Tara Lewis. (I love Temily). This is also the x daughter!Reader!!

Y/n Danvers had lived many lives in her seventeen years. Trained in the Black Widow program from the tender age of five, she had seen more hardship and danger than most people experienced in a lifetime. 

Rescued at fifteen by Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton, she found solace and guidance under Natasha's care until she was legally an adult. Now, Nick Fury, the ever-watchful director of SHIELD, had given her a new mission: infiltrate the BAU and gather intelligence on a rogue agent named James Monroe.

James Monroe had been suspected of targeting various federal bureaus, and SHIELD was next on his list after the BAU. He used his status to collect young kids and send them to train in Hydra or the Black Widow Program. Y/n's mission was clear, but it was complicated by her assignment to live undercover with two foster mothers, Emily Prentiss and Tara Lewis, both prominent members of the BAU.

In the foster system, Y/n had been taken in by Emily and Tara. At first, it was just another mission. But over ten months, Y/n had grown attached to the two women who had become her foster mothers. They had no idea their new daughter was the Scarlet Widow, an Avenger with unparalleled combat skills.

Emily and Tara treated Y/n with kindness and care, giving her a sense of stability she hadn't felt in years. They attended her school events, celebrated her successes, and provided comfort during tough times. Y/n felt like a normal teenager for the first time in a long while despite the weight of her secret.

Late one evening, Y/n sat in her room, scrolling through her phone. The glow of the screen illuminated her face as she messaged Natasha.

Y/n: I don't know how much longer I can keep this secret from them, Nat. They've been so good to me.

Natasha: I know it's tough, kid. But you're doing this to protect them and many others. Stay strong.

Y/n: I know. It's just... they're starting to feel like real family.

Natasha: That's a good thing, Y/n. It means you're healing. Just remember, you can always talk to me. We're in this together.

Y/n: Thanks, Nat. I don't know what I'd do without you.

Natasha: You'd probably be even more of a badass than you already are. 😉

Y/n smiled, feeling a warmth in her chest. Natasha had always been like a big sister to her, guiding her, protecting her, and pushing her to be her best. Their bond was unbreakable, forged in the fires of their shared experiences.

Y/n: How's everything at HQ?

Natasha: Busy as always. Clint's been teaching the new recruits some archery tricks. You'd love to see it.

Y/n: I miss you guys.

Natasha: We miss you too. Just focus on the mission for now. We'll have a big reunion when this is all over.

Y/n: Deal. Stay safe, Nat.

Natasha: You too, Y/n. Remember, if you need anything, I'm just a call away.

The next day, the BAU team was called to a scene that quickly became a nightmare. Held hostage by James Monroe's partner, Jessica Black, the team found themselves in dire straits.

"Everyone stay calm," Aaron Hotchner ordered, trying to maintain control. "We'll find a way out of this."

In a nearby park, Y/n received a call from Agent Coulson. "Y/n, the team is in trouble. Jessica Black has them hostage. You need to reveal yourself and take them down."

Y/n's heart raced. This was the moment she had dreaded and prepared for. She suited up in her combat uniform, the familiar feel of her gear grounding her. She was no longer just Y/n Danvers; she was the Scarlet Widow.

The compound was heavily guarded, but Y/n moved through it with the precision and agility drilled into her during her years of training. She dispatched guards with swift, calculated moves, her senses on high alert.

Inside the building, Jessica noticed the disturbance on the security monitors. "James," she called, "we have company."

James turned his attention to the monitors, a sly smile creeping across his face. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the Scarlet Widow. Or is it Y/n?"

Tara looked at him, confused. "What are you talking about?"

James chuckled. "Your little foster daughter has quite the secret."

Emily and Tara exchanged worried glances. "What secret?" Emily demanded.

"You'll see soon enough," James said, returning to the screen.

Y/n moved through the corridors, her focus unwavering. She reached the door to the room where the BAU team was being held and took a deep breath. This was it.

She burst through the door, gun drawn. "Everyone, stay down!"

James laughed. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the Scarlet Widow. Or is it Y/n?"

"Shut up, James," Y/n snapped, her eyes narrowing.

"What are you going to do? You don't have the rest of your team here."

"I don't need them. I can handle myself pretty well."

"Sure you can. Why don't you remove that mask and show our guests who you truly are?"

"Stop talking," Y/n growled, her patience wearing thin.

She lunged at James, their fight a blur of fists and kicks. Jessica joined in, and Y/n found herself outnumbered but undeterred. She fought with a ferocity that came from years of training and a deep-seated need to protect those she cared about.

James managed to pin Y/n down at one point, ripping her mask off. Emily and Tara gasped as they recognized their foster daughter.

"Y/n?" Tara whispered, her voice trembling.

Y/n didn't let the revelation slow her down. She kicked James off her, using the momentum to flip back onto her feet. She moved with deadly precision, taking down Jessica and James in a series of swift, calculated moves. Within moments, both were on the floor, tied up and subdued.

"Agent Coulson, the room is secure," Y/n spoke into her comms. "You can bring in the rest of the agents."

Coulson and a team of SHIELD agents stormed in, quickly securing the area. Y/n ran over to Emily and Tara, her heart pounding. "Are you both okay?"

Emily and Tara nodded, still in shock. "Y/n, we had no idea," Emily said, her voice breaking.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Y/n replied, her eyes full of emotion. "I had to keep it a secret."

Coulson approached, calling Y/n to the side. "Fury wants you back for a new mission," he said quietly.

Y/n glanced at Emily and Tara, who talked with JJ and Matt. They all took glances at her and Coulson. "Tell Fury no. I need to clean some things up here."

Coulson nodded, understanding. "Take the time you need."

As Coulson walked away, Emily and Tara approached, unsure what to say. They just stood there for a moment, the weight of the situation settling in. Y/n looked at them, tears welling up in her eyes, and immediately fell into their arms, hugging them tightly. Emily started checking Y/n for any severe injuries, her maternal instincts kicking in.

"Are you hurt?" Emily asked, her hands gently inspecting Y/n's face and arms.

"I'm okay, really," Y/n assured her, a small smile on her lips.

Back at the BAU, the team gathered in the conference room. Y/n stood at the front, taking a deep breath. "It's okay to ask questions," she said, her voice steady.

Before anyone could speak, Penelope Garcia burst through the door. "I found out everything about Y/n!" she exclaimed, waving a folder. "Emily and Tara asked me to look into her background."

The team smiled, and Y/n nodded at Penelope to continue. "Go ahead, Penelope."

Penelope explained Y/n's history, from her early years in the Black Widow program to her rescue by Natasha and Clint. Y/n filled in the details, explaining her training and the mission that brought her to the BAU. Emily and Tara listened intently, taking in every word.

As the meeting ended and everyone left, Emily and Tara lingered. "What does this mean for our little family?" Emily asked softly, looking at Y/n with concern.

[thenatashamaximoff]

Whispers In The Dark; Ch. 2

Summary: When a casual one-night stand develops into a deeper, forbidden love, you and Wanda try to keep your relationship a secret as you navigate the challenges of balancing your growing emotions with the fear of being caught.

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Warnings: 18+ (nsfw), mentions of death

Words: 6,174

✎ | ❁

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“Yes, sir.” You seemed to have stopped listening for a while now. You weren’t sure what he had said. The words had jumbled in your mind, making it difficult to comprehend the meaning behind them. You wondered if you had even articulated your response clearly, or if it had come out as unintelligible gibberish. It was as if the random noise in the back of your throat had escaped, mimicking speech without conveying any coherent message.

On the desk in front of you, Alexander Pierce’s face appeared on the computer screen. As your boss and the higher authority within the organization, his presence demanded attention and respect. Yet… you were struggling to do just that. For what was probably the gazillionth time in the span of twenty minutes, your eyes slowly shifted away from the virtual meeting to land on the folder resting amidst the scattered papers that littered the desk’s surface. Wanda Maximoff’s name was emblazoned in bold, black ink on the tab, enticing your curiosity. It seemed that the comprehensive dossier on her had arrived just before this unexpected meeting commenced. You hadn’t had a chance to explore its contents, as other pressing matters took precedence. 

You had hoped that it would’ve faded into the recesses of your mind, much like the other neglected folders resting amidst the sea of unpacked boxes in your apartment. Yet, its persistent presence refused to be ignored, exerting what felt like a gravitational pull on your thoughts, compelling you to explore its hidden contents.

The allure of the folder became too enticing to resist any longer. With a mix of curiosity and trepidation, you reached out… but the moment your fingers grazed it, you were snapped back to attention by the mere sound of her name rolling off of Alexander Pierce’s tongue. “It has come to my attention that you sent Wanda Maximoff on a highly sensitive operation this morning.”

“Yes, sir.” The fog that had clouded your thoughts began to dissipate, replaced by a renewed sense of alertness. You recalled the mission you had assigned her earlier, a covert operation of significant importance. “The assignment involved retrieving Loki Laufeyson, Thor’s brother,” you explained, making sure your words were clear and coherent this time. “Agent Maximoff’s unique abilities made her a valuable asset for the task. As far as I’m concerned, she executed it with precision and achieved the objective successfully. The man in question is sitting in one of our… rigged capsules.”

Pierce’s scrutinizing gaze remained fixed on you, his expression unreadable. “I hope you understand the gravity of the situation, Director,” he stated sternly. “Not only are Maximoff’s powers still relatively unknown and untested, but she also has a past that makes it difficult to trust her. We cannot afford any mishaps or breaches in security.”

You maintained a composed demeanor, acknowledging the seriousness of Pierce’s concerns. “I understand the gravity of the situation, sir,” you assured in a steady voice. “While Agent Maximoff’s powers may be unfamiliar to us, she has demonstrated her loyalty and commitment to the mission. Her past may raise questions, but she has been thoroughly vetted and deemed fit for the task.”

Pierce’s expression remained wary, but a hint of curiosity flickered in his eyes. “Vetting can only provide limited assurances,” he cautioned. “We must tread carefully when dealing with individuals of such complex backgrounds. Their loyalties can… shift unpredictably.” His eyes were guarded behind a steely look as his words hung in the air, underscoring the delicate nature of the situation and the potential risks involved.

You met his gaze head-on, unyielding in your resolve as a determined spark ignited within you. “I’m well aware of the risks, sir,” you responded firmly, your tone brimming with conviction. “Agent Maximoff’s past may be complicated, but her actions thus far have shown dedication and commitment. She successfully apprehended Loki under the radar. I entrusted her with a mission, and she exceeded all expectations.” Leaning forward, you rested your elbows against the top of the desk, emphasizing your earnestness. “I understand the need for caution, sir, but how can we expect someone to earn trust if they’re never given the opportunity?”

You could’ve sworn you caught Pierce’s expression softening, but he was quick to catch it, steeling himself once more. “You have an optimistic view of her,” he remarked, though his wariness remained visible in his tone. “Just ensure that your optimism doesn’t blind you to potential threats. Keep a close eye on her, Director.”

“I will exercise vigilance, sir,” you assured him. “The safety and integrity of this organization are my utmost priorities. We will monitor her closely and act accordingly should any concerns arise.” As you spoke, your attention was momentarily captured by the sound of your office door swinging open and then closing. Your heart quickened its pace when you watched Wanda confidently stride into the room, maintaining eye contact over the top of the laptop while sitting against the arm of the couch, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. The intense energy between you was palpable, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of anticipation.

Pierce’s voice brought you back to the present, jolting you out of the spell Wanda’s presence had cast. “Very well, Director,” he acknowledged, his tone authoritative. “I trust your ability to handle this matter with the necessary caution. Keep me informed of any significant developments.”

You nodded in response, slightly struggling to keep your voice steady and determined, “Yes, sir.”

With those parting words, the screen flickered and Pierce’s presence dissipated, ultimately allowing you to turn your gaze back to Wanda, who was still resting against the couch, a small, enigmatic smile playing on her lips. You closed the laptop slowly, deliberately, allowing yourself a moment to collect your thoughts. The room seemed to buzz with an electric charge, and the intensity of the connection between you and Wanda lingered in the air. 

No matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you knew you had to… you couldn’t deny the magnetic pull between the two of you.

“I wasn’t aware I had an open-door policy, Miss Maximoff,” you remarked. As you casually adjusted your position, leaning back in your chair, your arm subtly slid across the desk with your movement, purposefully disrupting the already-scattered pile of papers to conceal the folder containing her dossier.

She chuckled softly, lowly, yet you heard it all too well. “Well, Director, I couldn’t resist the temptation to see you in action,” she replied, her voice carrying a teasing undertone.

A playful spark seemed to ignite within you, and you found yourself leaning forward just as she was slowly moving to stand. “Is that so?” you retorted, a glimmer of excitement unwillingly dancing in your eyes. “Perhaps I should enforce stricter rules then.”

Wanda’s smirk grew more pronounced, and she began closing the distance between you with calculated steps. “Or maybe,” she offered, her voice low and suggestive, “we can find another way to bend them just a little.”

Your eyes darted to the laptop, remnants of the video call with Alexander Pierce slipping into your mind. The weight of your responsibilities bore down on you, reminding you of the delicate balance you had to maintain within the organization. The lines between professional conduct and personal inclinations blurred in the presence of Wanda Maximoff.

The air crackled with suspense as she rounded the desk, pushing against the top of your chair until you were fully facing her. Once again, the weight of responsibility is completely forgotten. Your jaw dropped open, a word on the tip of your tongue, yet no sounds could be heard when Wanda gently lowered herself onto you, straddling your lap as her fingers gripped the back of your neck. Your movements were automatic, your hands resting on her hips as you seemed to have trouble looking away from her emerald irises. 

“Wanda…” You were trying to say her name with authority, trying to warn her that she shouldn’t be doing this, but your body sold you out. Instead, you said her name wanton, as if you were begging for more because, fight as hard as you can, Y/N, you did want more.

And her low, breathy chuckle told you she knew that, too. “I told you,” she whispered, bending slightly so her lips brushed your ear. “I was more than willing to wait to finish thoroughly.” She took your earlobe in between her teeth just as she drove her hips against you, pulling a gasp from your throat while your stomach twisted like a coil.

Your grip on her waist tightened with need, and you gave in to the feeling pushing against you. With one quick maneuver, your lips were pressed into hers, swallowing her moans as your hands guided her rutting. Your insides throbbed with desire, your fingers danced up her shirt as she took over her own motions, and the way she moaned your name into your ear had you gasping. You turned in the chair, Wanda bracing herself against the desk behind her, and the movement seemed to brush some of the scattered papers off of your desk and to the floor.

“Touch me, Y/N,” she whispered, panted, begged. It sent shivers up your spine.

You obliged, allowing the tips of your fingers to ride the supple surface of her abdomen until they reached the hem of her bra. The skin under the garment was warm, and she was groaning the moment your touch skirted over the area she desired to be touched the most. Her chin tilted back as you leaned forward, exposing her neck to give you more access as your lips brushed across it like a feather. 

“Wanda, I’m…” Your words trailed off as a sudden clap of thunder reverberated through the air, jolting you back to reality. The sound seemed to echo in your ears, its intensity leaving you slightly unnerved, yet Wanda appeared unfazed by the disturbance. The moment you pulled back, she pushed forward, pressing her lips to the soft skin just underneath your jaw. It was like flipping a switch, plunging back into the captivating allure of Wanda’s touches and the sensations they bring. However, reality wasn’t going to let go of you that easily, reclaiming its hold as a series of sharp and loud knocks resounded throughout the room.

Unlike earlier, Wanda wasn’t as willing to part ways this time. She released a deep, irritated breath as she swiftly climbed off your lap mere moments before the door opened. A woman popped her head into the room, her eyes bouncing back and forth between you and Wanda for a moment before finally settling on you. She looked familiar, her name making an uncomfortable itch appear in the back of your mind as she fully entered the room.

“Ma’am,” her voice broke through the hazy enchantment, serving as a reminder of the woman’s identity. You recalled her from earlier in the day, realizing that she had requested your signature for… something, yet her name seemed to elude your memory. “There’s an urgent matter that requires your immediate attention.”

You pressed your lips together, scratching the back of your neck before you moved to stand up. Now that Wanda’s body wasn’t pumping adrenaline through you, exhaustion seems to be sneaking up on you pretty quickly. It was evident in your eyes, but your movements didn’t lack confidence as you followed the woman (whose name you can’t remember for some awful reason).

As she guided you down the corridors of the compound, the clamor of raised voices grew louder. Surely this was the urgent matter the woman had mentioned.

Rounding the corner, a scene unfolded before you - a swarm of SHIELD agents surrounding a central figure, their attention fixated on the source of the commotion. It was none other than Thor Odinson, radiating an unmistakable aura of anger and frustration at the heart of the gathering.

“I demand for my brother to be released at once!” he commanded, his furrowed brows displaying deep frustration and determination. His body turned, eyes searching the growing crowd, seeking an authoritative figure. “Loki belongs in the prisons of Asgard, not held captive in some mere human penitentiary! Show me to him!”

“That’s not happening,” you declared, the sea of agents parting at the sound of your voice. It was instant that Thor’s piercing blue eyes snapped onto you, eyeing the way you stood as tall as you could with your hands gripping your hips, projecting an air of superiority. “Your brother stands accused of grave crimes against humanity. He is required by law to face consequences, whether or not he is a god or the adopted brother of one.”

“And he shall see to those consequences on Asgard.”

“He didn’t seem to last very long in your prison,” you countered, your arms firmly crossing over your chest as you held your ground. The tension in the hall thickened as your words hung in the air “Considering he’s here and not there, did he get early release for good behavior?” Thor’s eyes narrowed, his gaze intensifying, while faint chuckles floated from the onlookers. Your focus remained on his intimidating presence. The soft laughter ceased just as quickly as it came to be, swallowed by the weight of the situation when he took a small yet heavy step forward, his expression becoming sterner.

“Where’s Fury?” Thor’s voice was laced with a mix of suspicion and urgency. The mention of the former director’s absence seemed to ignite a spark of concern within him.

You cleared your throat, your tone unwavering as you met Thor’s fiery gaze. “He’s no longer with us. Unfortunately for you, Mr. Odinson, that puts me in charge.” Authority floated around you as you stepped forward with confidence despite the anger displayed on his face. “Loki stays here.”

The area grew quiet, the anticipation hanging thick in the air. All eyes were fixed upon the clash of wills between you and Thor, the atmosphere crackled with tension as the two of you stood locked in a silent battle of determination. The fate of Loki hung in the balance, and it was clear that both of you were determined to defend your respective positions.

“Loki is my brother. My responsibility,” Thor announced, his voice growing deeper and more forceful. “I’m not leaving until he is at my side, and anyone who stands in my way will face their own consequences.” The agents in the room exchanged uneasy glances, recognizing the potential for conflict that loomed before them. Some even slowly moved their hands to rest on their sidearms, and you could feel your stomach twisting tautly with nerves. Hopefully, it doesn’t come down to that.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself against the mounting pressure. It was clear that Thor’s determination had escalated, and finding a peaceful resolution would be an uphill battle. But you couldn’t allow the situation to escalate into violence or compromise the safety of those nearby. “I understand the bond you share with Loki, Mr. Odinson,” you finally said, your tone steady despite the growing tension, “but we cannot allow personal attachments to undermine our duty and the security of innocent lives. We must consider the results of releasing Loki into an environment where he has proven to be a threat.”

Your decision was met with an intense gaze, his grip on Mjolnir tightening, sparks of electricity crackling around him. The crowd held its breath, awaiting his next move.

“Stand aside,” Thor growled, his voice filled with anger and resolve, “or face the full fury of a god.”

Your heart raced rapidly, beating against your chest as he seemed to stand taller before you, but you stood your ground, refusing to be intimidated. “Violence is not the answer.” You lifted a hand in an attempt to calm him down as you added, “We must find a way to resolve this without causing harm to anyone.”

The air seemed to tremble with the unspoken clash between the two of you. The agents watched on, their loyalty divided between their duty and the power emanating from Thor. At that moment, you realized that finding a compromise would be even more challenging than anticipated. The fate of Loki, the security of the organization, and the potential for a confrontation hung in the balance, awaiting a resolution that could satisfy both duty and familial bonds.

Heavy silence suffocated you as Thor’s gaze bore through you, his muscles tensed and ready for action. It wasn’t a debate anymore, it was a standoff. A battle of wills that threatened to tip over into chaos. The weight of the decision rested upon your shoulders, and the outcome would shape the course of events to come.

It was a moment of unexpected intervention. As Thor attempted to wield his hammer, a surge of red energy surrounded his wrist, hindering his progress. His mighty strength rendered ineffective against the force, causing his brows to knit together with rage, his pupils narrowing even further to mere crumbs. His gaze shifted behind you, and you turned to witness Wanda, her eyes ablaze with a fiery crimson hue, exerting her own power to counter Thor’s aggression. You found your stomach uncoiling when she met your stare with a soft, easy smile.

Hushed whispers filled the air as the two powerful beings struggled against each other, the agents watching in awe and apprehension, unsure of how this unexpected turn of events would unfold.

“Release me!” Thor’s voice boomed, his demand filled with indignation and defiance.

You felt a renewed sense of empowerment surge within you, a willful smirk curling your lips. The tables had turned, and you held the upper hand for now. With a determined gaze, you stood your ground, undeterred by Thor’s wrath. “Not until you calm down,” you declared, voice steady and commanding. It was a bold move, challenging the god of thunder himself, but you were resolute in your stance. The safety of everyone involved and the preservation of order was paramount.

Thor’s expression shifted from anger to incredulity, his eyebrows furrowing deeper as he grappled with the unexpected resistance he faced. The room crackled with charged energy, the clash between power and authority hanging in the balance. “I’m calm,” he finally said.

Wanda’s crimson eyes locked with yours once more, a silent understanding passing between you. She released her hold on him, and Thor straightened his form as his eyes danced back to you. He stared at you for a moment, feeling as if he were sizing you up, or as if he were forming another plan in that brain of his to get his brother back. Either way, you didn’t back down.

“Very well,” he conceded, his voice tinged with disappointment. “But know this, Director, I will be watching closely.” He turned on his heels, the crowd of agents instantly parting to give way as he marched away. The presence of the Asgardian gradually faded, his departure leaving behind a lingering sense of tension in the room.

You nodded, clapping your hands together while you announced, “Back to work, everybody.” As the agents returned to their normal rhythm, dispersing to resume their duties, the weight of the confrontation slowly lifted from your shoulders. You turned to fully face Wanda, but your gaze slowly drifted to Coulson lingering behind her in time to catch his small nod before he left.

“That was very impressive,” Wanda mused, struggling to hide the mischievous smirk that played upon her lips. With each sly step she took towards you, your heart quickened its pace, climbing up to your throat, unable to escape the intensity of the moment. The darkening depths of her eyes added an electrifying allure, casting a spell upon your senses. “It takes a special kind of courage to challenge a god, especially one consumed by anger.”

The surge of pride coursed through your veins, straightening your posture and bolstering your confidence. With a casual shrug, you maintained an air of nonchalance, even as you found yourself drawn closer to her magnetic presence. “I wouldn’t be a very good director if I cowered away at mere inconveniences, Miss Maximoff.”

She responded with a whimsical hum, her playful head tilt accompanied by the tantalizing sight of her teeth capturing her bottom lip. Her eyes glistened with desire, casting a bewitching spell that ensnared your senses. Lost in the haze of her allure, your arm instinctively reached out, compelled to gently sweep away the stray strands of hair that adorned her cheek. For a fleeting moment, you forgot your surroundings - that you weren’t in the solitude of your office, nor the seclusion of her apartment - until an abrupt chirp shattered the illusion. Your phone, a stark reminder of reality, jolted you back to your senses. Like a switch being flipped, full control over yourself snapped back, causing your breath to hitch in your throat as you hastily stepped away from her. The passionate darkness in her emerald irises wavered, replaced by a tinge of disappointment as you cleared your throat, forcing yourself to avert your gaze and reach for your phone.

The spell was broken, and the weight of your responsibilities crashed back down upon you when you read your boss’s name on the screen, serving as a harsh reminder of the boundaries that needed to be maintained. The boundaries you are constantly neglecting.

“Excuse me, Miss Maximoff, but duty calls,” you uttered, your voice betraying a hint of reluctance. As you lifted your eyes to meet hers once more, a strange sensation washed over you, causing your legs to momentarily falter. Lost within the depths of her captivating gaze, you found yourself trapped in a trance unlike any before. The usual desires, seductive playfulness, and mischievous glints were replaced with something different - something softer, more powerless.

In that brief instance, vulnerability danced in the depths of her eyes, as if revealing a hidden side that had previously remained concealed. It tugged at your heartstrings, stirring a mix of emotions within you. The allure remained, but it was laced with a yearning for connection and understanding. It was a vulnerable invitation, silently pleading for you to acknowledge the unspoken depths of her being.

However, duty compelled you to tear yourself away from the enchanting pull. With a resolute sigh, you mustered the strength to regain control over your legs, willing them to move forward. Yet, the memory of that moment lingered in the recesses of your mind, leaving an indelible mark upon you.

You could feel her eyes on the back of your head as you walked away.

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“Come in,” you announced automatically, barely lifting your gaze from the papers scattered across your desk. The routine had become second nature to you: someone knocked, you acknowledged their presence, signed whatever document they presented, and swiftly dismissed them. Your hand instinctively reached out to receive the clipboard, expecting the familiar weight of papers to land in your palm. But the footsteps approaching your desk seemed unusually slow, causing a flicker of curiosity to interrupt your monotonous rhythm.

Lifting your head, you found yourself locking eyes with Coulson. To your surprise, his hands were empty, folded neatly across his chest as he fixed an expectant gaze upon you. The absence of paperwork left you momentarily puzzled, prompting a question to escape your lips. 

“Am I missing something here?” He maintained his composed stance, the air in the room growing heavy with unspoken revelations, and the gravity of the moment enveloped you. “Out with it, Coulson,” you pressed.

“Mr. Pierce is waiting for you in the conference room.” He met your gaze steadily, clearing his throat as he patiently waited for your mind to process his words.

Confusion furrowed your brows for a brief moment before surprise widened your eyes as you frantically sifted through the papers on your desk, searching for your phone. Desperation laced your voice as you hastily denied the imminent arrival. “No, he’s not due until tomorrow,” you protested, a touch of desperation seeping into your words. “It’s-”

“Ten in the morning.” Coulson interrupted your frantic search, his head tilting to the side as he observed your panicked movements. The unspoken thoughts that passed between you were evident in his expression. No, you hadn’t gone home. No, you hadn’t slept. Yes, you were doing all this paperwork Pierce sent over last night. Yes, your mind had been consumed with thoughts of Wanda Maximoff. The weight of your responsibilities and the unanticipated turn of events collided, leaving you reeling with a mix of exhaustion, longing, and apprehension.

In the corner of your eye, a glimmer caught your attention, obscured beneath the papers on your desk. Relief washed over you as you successfully fished your phone out of the chaotic pile. However, any fleeting sense of triumph swiftly dissipated when you glanced at the screen. Coulson’s words echoed in your mind, confirming Pierce’s untimely arrival and a wave of anxiety surged through you. The details of this meeting eluded you as if shrouded by a foggy haze.

Without a second though, you sprang to your feet with such haste that your chair careened into the wall behind you. The loud thud punctuated the urgency of the situation, emphasizing the disarray that mirrored your racing thoughts. Time seemed to accelerate as you quickly gathered your composure, determined to face the impending meeting, even if you couldn’t recall its purpose.

You exited the room, the door slowly sliding shut behind you, leaving your deputy director alone. However, it didn’t take long for a realization to dawn upon you, prompting a swift about-face. Sheepishly, you poked your head back into the office, a contrite smile adorning your face. “Where’s the conference room?” His finger pointed in the direction you needed to go, and with a nod of gratitude, you swiftly disappeared once more, determined to find your way to the meeting.

Upon reaching the conference room door, the sound of laughter emanating from within caused your muscles to tense up. One laugh was unmistakably Pierce’s, characterized by its gruffness and rigidity. However, the other laughter resonated deep within you, igniting a warmth in your gut that was undeniable. The mere sound of her laugh had the power to captivate you, making you hesitate to open the door and disrupt the harmonious melody unfolding on the other side. But you quickly snapped out of your daze, remembering that Wanda Maximoff should not be engaged in friendly conversation with your boss.

With resolve, you entered the room and confirmed your instincts. Wanda was indeed immersed in a cheerful conversation with Alexander Pierce, both of them sporting smiles. You forced one of your own, but as soon as you met those sparkling green eyes, your grin became authentic. “What’s going on in here?” you inquired, closing the distance to the occupied table.

“There you are, Director. Please, take a seat and join us,” Pierce greeted with unexpected cheerfulness, a major difference from the stern man you’d spoken to through the computer not that long ago. He gestured toward the seat next to Wanda, and you reluctantly settled into the chair while attempting to maintain a noticeable distance from the woman. “Where have you been hiding this one from us?” He looked toward Wanda, whose face had grown brighter when she saw you. “She’s an absolute delight! And she’s already ours for the taking.” Soft laughter lingered in his voice, leaving you intrigued about their earlier conversation.

The sight of Pierce’s ease and comfort with Wanda - as if they were old friends - immediately after issuing a strict order for you to monitor her due to a lack of trust in the new Avenger sent waves of unease rippling through you. It was disconcerting to witness such a stark contrast in his behavior, as if the order had been mere words with no real significance. Your mind raced with questions, trying to comprehend the motives behind his contradictory actions. Did he genuinely trust Wanda more than he let on? Or was there a hidden agenda at play? Doubt gnawed at you.

Wanda chimed in playfully, answering on your behalf while keeping her eyes trained on you, “Oh, Y/N just loves keeping me for herself.” However, as she spoke, Pierce’s demeanor shifted abruptly, returning to his usual strict professionalism. He studied Wanda intently, causing her to divert her gaze from you to meet his scrutinizing one. A knot of anticipation formed in your stomach as you watched him silently analyze her.

He cleared his throat, shaking his head for a moment before turning to you. “I’m impressed by how you handled the Loki situation,” he confessed. A glimmer of pride shone in his eyes, contrasting with his rugged expression. “It was your first assignment, a significant one at that, not to mention. To be honest, I wasn’t sure you had what it took, but I’m not one to shy away from admitting I was wrong.”

Leaning forward, Wanda placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and spoke, her voice filled with admiration, “It’s only been a day, but I think Y/N’s been doing a wonderful job so far.” This time, your smile remained forced as you subtly shifted your shoulder, discreetly removing her hand from your touch under Pierce’s watchful eyes.

“I can handle anything thrown at me, sir,” you commented in an attempt to divert his attention.

He cleared his throat, his eyes dancing back and forth between you and Wanda for a quiet, tense moment before asking, “Do you let all your agents call you by your first name?”

“No, sir-”

“I don’t see how that’s really relevant here,” she interrupted, not mincing her words. You swallowed the thick saliva that had formed in your throat, the knot in your gut beginning to grow tighter. “I believe that she-”

“Agent Maximoff,” you interjected swiftly, your voice firm, trying to regain control of the situation. You avoided meeting her eyes as they flickered toward you. “That’ll be all for now.” The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, with Wanda watching you, Pierce observing her, and you staring at the table, desperate to dodge all eyes.

“Yes, Director.” You winced subtly at the tone of her voice, ultimately telling you that she was not pleased with your dismissal. Surely she wasn’t one to hold a grudge over something so minute… right? 

Pierce adjusted his suit jacket as she made her way out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. The sound of the door closing resonated in the quiet before his voice finally cut through it, “I’m not questioning your ability to do this job, Director.”

“Hasn’t even crossed my mind, sir,” you assured.

“I mean, you’re the first female lead since the fifties. I have the right to be cautious.” His smile appeared forced, lacking the sincerity it held when you first entered the room. The tension returned, and he seemed to fully revert to his usual self. “I came here to ask about your plans with Loki.”

“We have him contained in a specially designed confinement capsule aboard the Helicarrier,” you began, your voice steady and composed. “The cell is equipped with a failsafe. Any attempts to escape or breach the containment will trigger a rapid descent mechanism, dropping whoever is in the cell a significant distance.” You glanced at Pierce, ensuring that he was following your explanation. His eyes narrowed slightly, indicating his focus on the matter at hand. “I made it clear to Loki about the consequences of any efforts of escape,” you continued. “The knowledge of imminent death should serve as a deterrent and discourage any further disruptions or attempts to regain his freedom. My plan for Loki is to keep him imprisoned to prevent any further damage to Earth.”

Pierce nodded, slow and precise movements, but you sensed by the way he leaned back that he was ready to voice his concerns. “You want to keep him locked up for the rest of time?” He scoffed, a humorless laugh crawling out of his throat as he shook his head. “Loki has caused substantial damage to New York, costing us billions of dollars.”

“He has also taken just as many innocent lives,” you quickly claimed. “It’s not about the money, sir. People-”

“That’s beside the point,” he interrupted. “Keeping him locked up isn’t enough.”

Your eyebrows knitted together deeply as you eyed him, trying to get a good read on his face, but he was a closed book with no chance of getting it to open. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not sure I understand what you’re implying.”

Pierce’s gaze solidified, his tone growing more serious. “What I’m implying, Director, is that simply containing Loki isn’t a long-term solution. We need to consider more permanent measures to ensure he can never pose a threat again.”

A flicker of concern crossed your face as you contemplated the weight of his words. “Are you suggesting…?”

He leaned forward, his voice lowered. “I’m suggesting we explore options for a more definitive resolution,” he explained.

Your breath caught in the back of your throat, the earnestness of his proposition sinking in. “You’re talking about… terminating Loki?”

His expression remained impassive, but there was an underlying intensity in his eyes. “I didn’t propose such an extreme measure, Director.” He shrugged loosely, a sly smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Loki is a prideful god. He views humans as insignificant and feeble creatures. It’s only a matter of time before his arrogance is bound to make him disregard your warnings and… attempt to escape his rigged prison. If he chooses that path, we cannot be held accountable.”

You paused, allowing his words to sink in, fully aware of the subtle subtext beneath his statement. It was a strategic maneuver to absolve himself and the organization of any responsibility. By framing Loki’s demise as a consequence of his own pretentious choices, he aimed to keep your - and his own - hands free from the stain of his blood.

The knot in your stomach - the one you had thought had dispersed at Wanda’s departure - reappeared, only this time it launched itself into your throat. The way his eyes gleamed with a sinister glint made you feel nauseous. “Sir, I understand the severity of Loki’s actions, but we must also remember our duty to uphold the principles of justice and due process. We cannot become judge, jury, and executioner,” you argued.

His gaze bore into yours, his voice unwavering, “We can’t afford to let sentimentality cloud our judgment. Loki has proven time and again that he is a danger to global security. We must be willing to consider all options, even if they are difficult.”

The weight of his words pressed upon you, and you knew you weren’t going to convince him otherwise no matter how hard you fought. Still, you didn’t plan on giving in so easily just yet. “Then we must exhaust all alternatives, explore advanced containment methods, and leverage our resources to ensure the safety of both our agents and the world.”

Pierce’s face hardened, the lines etched deeper into his features. “Director,” he began, folding his hands on top of the table between you and him, “there will come a point where we have exhausted all options. Don’t you think it’d be a waste of time, resources, and money to only end up at the same outcome?” He smiled lightly, a wicked tinge to the expression. “We cannot shy away from that possibility.”

Your eyes locked with his, a silent battle of principles and pragmatism. You had gone head to head with the God of Thunder and won. Yet, here you were, butting heads with a mortal man and on the verge of losing. “I refuse to believe that we must sacrifice our values is the only path to achieving the greater good. It is our duty to explore other solutions, to seek justice and preserve life - all lives. We cannot embrace the mindset that justifies shedding blood. There must always be a line we will not cross.”

His gaze softened ever so slightly, a flicker of begrudging respect crossing his features. “I must admit, Director, your unwavering dedication is commendable.” However, the smile that lingered on his lips revealed his underlying satisfaction. It was evident that you had officially lost this battle, succumbing to his ability to see to it that you would never step foot inside a SHIELD building for the rest of your life. “I expect a comprehensive report in my email by the end of the week.” He swiftly rose from his seat, adjusting his jacket with deliberate movements. “An autopsy report,” he clarified his tone laced with a chilling edge. A twisted smile played on his lips, the sinister glint in his eyes sending a shiver down your spine. It was a reminder of the darkness that lurked beneath his polished exterior.

With that final unsettling gesture, he exited, leaving you alone with the weight of his demands.

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Trust is Earned

Part 2 of Face to Face - I’m dedicating this story to @alicenter​ because her comment on the first part made me think of this story. 

Summary: You weren’t used these types of comfort as you lay in a soft bed with to many pillows and blankets. Instead of sleeping, you walk around their house and see the memories they’ve built. But Melina accuses you of snooping and her distrust of you. 

Warning: jealousy, fighting, bullet wound, distrust, family drama, mention of killing, mention of past abuse 

Word count: 5.2 k 

You stared up at the ceiling fan, watching it spin around and around. It was therapeutic in a way but you wished it would help you fall asleep. No matter how hard you tried, sleep wasn’t coming to you and you knew it. The bed was too soft, the room was too cold, and your mind wouldn’t shut up. With a heavy sigh, you swung your feet to the ground and walked out of the room. You weren’t sure what your plan was. But your feet walked you around their home. You saw pictures from Christmas, birthday parties, and trips to the capital. A tight feeling began to form in the middle of your chest. You picked up the old photo album from Ohio and flipped through the fake memories. It was a day you remembered so clearly, you shot Christmas, Easter, and summer vacation in one day. But Christmas was your favorite. All the brightly wrapped boxes that you knew were empty but you wanted to open every single one of them. Just for one moment, it would be real. “What are you doing?” You spun around to see Melina standing behind you. It was weird seeing her in a robe with slippers on but you didn’t miss the pistol in her hand. 

“I was -” 

“Snooping,” she grabbed the album from your hand. “Finding out all our secrets to report back to the Red Room.” Your eyes grew wide at the accusation. “So it’s true.” You snapped out of it. 

“What are you talking about?” You questioned. “I’m helping SHIELD take down the Red Room,” she pointed the gun at you. You raised your hands, showing her you had no weapon on you. Now you were trained to be a weapon, similar to the train she’s gone through, but you were wearing Natasha’s extra sleeping clothes and you were extremely sleep deprived. Your brain was struggling to make sense of what was going on. “You don’t trust me.” You whispered. 

“I want to,” she said. There was a slight shake of her hand. “I want to trust you so bad but I can’t,” your heart skipped and your stomach dropped. “But I know what they are capable of and I can’t risk the safety of my girls.” My girls. My girls. My girls. It was a mantra that echoed inside your head. All of a sudden, the room became too small and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. My girls. My girls. You weren’t part of that. To Melina, you were disposable. You weren’t sure what hurt more her saying that or you believe her. 

“What the hell is going on?” Natasha asked, appearing out of nowhere with Yelena behind her. It seemed like they were a packaged duo, one wasn’t far without the other. You weren’t a part of that. My girls. My girls.   

“So,” your voice stopped the arguing between Melina and Natasha. “What’s the play, Melina? Are you going to kill me and I’ll become another red mark on your ledger or are you going to bring me back to Dreykov and let him do it?”

“No,” Natasha said, standing between you and Melina. “She’s not going anywhere. She is staying here where she’s safe and we can be a family again.”

“Natalia, we can’t trust her,” Melina said. “She’s been with them for years. This could be a trap to get the three of us back.” Three not four but three. Once again she didn’t add you, creating a division between you and them. My girls. My girls. Natasha, Yelena, and Melina. You weren’t a part of it. 

“She was with them because she gave herself up to save us or did you forget about that night?” You didn’t want to be the driving wedge between them. You’ve been alone for years, what’s one more night? 

“Maybe Melina’s right,” Natasha whipped around to stare at you. “I could be a target and staying here endangers your family. I wasn’t thinking and I was being selfish. I’ll get my stuff and head out, find a hotel, or stay with the team.” You pushed past Natasha and headed to the room that gave you. Not your room. A room. My girls. Three not four. You started throwing your stuff into the duffle bag, not worrying about how it looked. You turned to leave, almost running into Natasha. 

“You don’t have to go,” she said. “I’ll convince Melina. I’ll..”

“It’s okay,” you said, cutting her off. “I don’t want to get in the way between you and her. I’ll be okay.” 

“I called Maria. She’s expecting you. I’ll text you the address.” 

“Thank you,” you shifted your weight from side to side. “I should get going. I didn’t mean to wake you and Yelena.” You had to get out. So you did, leaving her in the room that was supposed to be yours.

*

Maria opened the door before you could even knock. “Saw you on the camera,” she said as you raised your eyebrow in question. “You look like you could use a drink.” You laughed, bitterly as she stepped out of the way. You entered the house. Phil was at the dining room table, papers covering it and you saw Clint in the kitchen making a pot of coffee. 

“Do you guys sleep?” You questioned as Maria closed the door. 

“Not when we have more questions than answers,” Phil said, waxing at you as his greeting. You sat down at the small kitchen island, dropping your bag to the floor. 

“So we have vodka, tequila, or beer,” Clint said, pouring coffee into a mug. 

“Is it good vodka or American vodka?” You asked with a tilt of your head. Clint glared at you. 

“I’ve known Nat for a long time,” he said, pulling the vodka bottle out of the fridge. “Do you know I’d offer you American vodka?” It pulled a small smile to your lips. 

“I’m glad she had you,” Maria sat down next to you as Clint poured you a shot. “All of you,” you clarified, staring into the clear liquid. “You were there when I wasn’t. Cheers.” The liquid burned as it went down. “So, what can I do to help?” 

*

You were sitting on the couch going over all the information SHIELD had on the Red Room. It wasn't much but mixed with what Melina had the answer to the 101 questions had to be in here somewhere. You were twirling a pen in your hand as you read over Peggy Carter’s notes. Phil and Clint called it a night but Maria stayed up and she was doing a bad job of being subtle. “You're staring again.” You said, closing the file you were reading. You switched to beer after your third shoot. 

“Just putting a face to fall the stories I’ve heard about,” you raised an eyebrow at her. 

“They told you about me?” You questioned. The agent nodded her head. That was hard to believe. 

“You don’t believe me?” You smirked. “It was mostly Natasha. She told me about Ohio and that night at the airstrip. The few times I was at their house I’ve caught Melina staring at your door. I mistook it as a guest room and almost got shot.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You asked, turning to face her. 

“Do you regret that night?” She asked instead. You leaned back, resting your back on the arm of the couch and your legs crossed in front of you. “Do you regret giving yourself to him?”

“No,” you whispered. “And I’d do it again. In any lifetime, I’d do anything to protect my sisters,” you took a sip of the beer. “I’d sell my soul a thousand times to the devil to keep them safe. I think that’s why it hurts so much that Melina doesn’t trust me,” you rubbed your hand across your face. “But once he’s gone for good, they’ll be safe and be a family again.” You turned to get back to work, ignoring the frown on Maria’s face. 

“They’re your family too,” you closed your eyes, taking in a slow shaky breath and letting it out. 

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “Once upon a time, they were. They’ve made a life here and I don’t know if I fit into it. I’m disposable.” 

*

“Can you please talk to me?” Melina asked, pouring two cups of coffee for her and Natasha and orange juice for Yelena. Natasha was cutting up a pepper to throw in an omelet that asked for. She was cutting the vegetable a little too aggressively but it was the best way to give her anger an outlet. 

“There is nothing to say,” Natasha mumbled, putting the peppers into the pan. 

“You have to see it from my perspective,” the older Black Widow said. “My priority is to keep you girls safe.”

“Who is watching out for her?” Natasha hissed. She cleaned the knife before putting it away in the correct place. “We should have gone back for her.” She had so much guilt eating up inside her from that night. The gunshots that hit the plane kept her up at night. 

“How?” Melina questioned, starting on Yelena’s lunch. “Please tell me how we could have saved her,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Your sister knew the consequences when she locked us out of that plane.”

“Now we have a chance to be a family again,” she placed the omelet on the plate. “But you don’t trust her. What's it going to take?” Before Melina could answer, Yelena entered the kitchen. She sat down in front of the omelet and orange juice. 

“Do you think I’ll still be able to play tomorrow?” Yelena asked, cutting into the food. “Will it be safe?” Natasha grabbed the mug that Melina poured for her. 

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “After I drop you off at school, I’ll regroup with the team. There will be an agent stationed outside the house and at your school.”

“What about you?” Yelena frowned.

“I’ll be fine,” she reassured her sister with a smile. “I’ll be with Maria or Clint at all times.” She nodded, pushing her food around her plate. Something else was bothering her, it wasn’t hard for Natasha to notice the change in her sister’s behavior. “What else is wrong?”

“What about Y/n?” She questioned. Now that was a great question. From what Maria told her, you refused a protection detail and were sounding self-destructive. 

“She’ll be with me,” she said, ignoring the look on Melina’s face. “Once this is over, we’ll all be safe.” 

*

You were standing in the kitchen, buttering a bagel. “Are you okay?” Clint asked. You didn’t look at the SHIELD agent.

“Yes,” you said. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He leaned against the counter with his arms crossed. 

“Because it looks like you are going to murder someone with that butter,” you smirked, rolling your eyes. “I think you could.” Oh 100% but it would be a messy way to kill someone and not a cool way to die. The front door opened and Natasha walked in. Her green eyes immediately found you. They screamed ‘Are you okay?’ and ‘Please talk to me.’ You smiled, nodding your head. You hoped it conveyed everything you were feeling. “Ready to meet the boss man?” Clint asked, following you to the couch. 

“Yeah,” you said, standing behind the couch while Clint sat down to join the others. 

“Just don’t say anything stupid,” Natasha teased. You gasped in mock offense. 

“I would never,” you smiled as Maria accepted the video call. The screen changed to a man with an eye patch wearing a trench coat. An odd outfit you thought. 

“So,” he said. “This is the infamous Black Widow,” you took a bite of your bagel. “I’m guessing you know who I am.” You nodded. 

“Nick Fury, the director of SHIELD. 

“Also the reason you aren’t in custody or buried 6 feet under.” A smirk formed on your lips. 

“Are you expecting a thank you, sir?” You questioned. You heard Natasha let out a small groan. He folded his hands and leaned back in his chair. 

“What I’m expecting is for you to help take down the Red Room and follow every order my agents give,” he said. “Or I will pick one of the numerous countries that you're wanted in and drop you off.” Fair enough. You shrugged. 

“Sounds like a fair exchange,” you said. “And after the Red Room is gone and Dreyokv is dead, what is going to happen to me?” Natasha offered you a spot at SHIELD but she wasn’t the boss. The man in front of you was. Similarly, another man held your fate. 

“Well, that’s up to you,” he said. You raised an eyebrow, not expecting to have a choice in the matter. “Depending on the outcome of the mission, I’ll be offering you a position at SHIELD.”

“If I were to turn down your generous offer?” There was an intense stare-off between you and the Director. But to your surprise, the man smiled. Or it was something close to a smile. 

“I like you, Widow,” he said. “I think we’ll get along well.”   

*

It was lunchtime. Yelena was sitting outside with a few of her friends. She was stressed, on edge, that much you could tell. She was glancing over her shoulder, barely eating her food or engaging in the conversation around her. You made out the SHIELD agent assigned to your sister. Taking a sip of your coffee, you made note of the surrounding area. The school was across the street from a neighborhood, an odd place to put a school you thought. A wooded area surrounded the small sports complex and there was a parking lot in front. You opened your laptop and pulled up a satellite image of the school. It was clear and you looked back at Yelena. She was talking to a girl, and whatever she said made the girl’s cheek blush. You smiled, shaking your head with a laugh. This is why you locked them out of the plane so they could have a normal life - go to football games, flirt with people, and smile. You were being honest with Maria, no matter what you’d keep them safe. So when the same two girls walked past the car for the 3rd time something wasn’t right. You were a trained spy, able to sneak into government buildings and take down countries. Your gut instinct kept you alive. Carefully, you opened the glove compartment and pulled out a pistol, your widow bites, and a hat. You put the hat on and attached the gun to your hip, covering it with your sweatshirt. As you listened to your phone ring, you got out of the car. “Where did you go?” Natasha asked. 

“Yelena’s school. Send back up,” you didn’t flinch as the gunshot rang out, hitting the SHIELD agent. “I’ll get her safe,” you told her. You began to run as the school erupted into chaos, pushing past students and school officials. “Hurry.” You put your phone in your pocket. Yelena stood up from the table, looking around in a panic. A scream left her lips as the girl next to her was shot. You got to her, pulled her to the ground, and flipped the picnic table on its side. It wasn’t the best cover but it was the only option. “Hey, hey,” she had blood splattered on her face and her green eyes were wide and frantic. “Eyes on me, okay?” With the sleeve of your shirt, you tried to clean up some of the blood on her face. She nodded. “I’m going to get you out of here and SHIELD is on their way.” Another shot and Yelena squeaked.

You grabbed a small makeup mirror and opened it, using it to see behind the picnic table. There was a sniper on top of the school and a small group of Widows swarming the parking lot. You pulled out your pistol. “On my mark, you are going to run towards the school.” You looked at the blueprints of the building, the cafeteria was through the closest door, and down the hall was the gym. That was your best option. 

“I’m scared,” she whispered. You nodded. 

“I know but you’ll be okay. Reader?” She nodded. “Go!” You popped up and aimed for the sniper. You weren’t aiming to kill just to disarm. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Yelena run towards the school. With the sniper taking cover, the Widows on the ground ran over to you. You fired some shots at them before following Yelena. They shot back. 

Yelena was standing in the cafeteria waiting for you. “Where are we going?” She asked as you grabbed her arm and dragged her along. 

“Gym,” you told her. “We can circle back to the front to get back to the car.” Glass shattering echoed the quiet hallway. You turned around and saw 2 Widows in the hallway. “Fucking hell,” you mumbled, running towards the gym. Like the hallway the gym was empty. “Hide behind the bleachers,” you said. “Don’t come out until I say so.” She ran behind the bleachers without hesitation. You had just enough time to reload your magazine as the two Widows walked in. 

“Gde ona (Where is she?)” One of them asked. You didn’t recognize them so they must be a lower level than you. 

“I have no idea who you are talking about,” you were accepting the hit to your stomach but the air was still knocked out of your lungs. You stayed on your feet as they circled you, mimicking a lion and its prey. But you knew the real roles here, they weren’t going to kill you or Yelena.   

“We don’t want to hurt you, sister,” your heart skipped. They were your sisters brought together by blood and violence. 

“Funny,” you said. “I was thinking the same thing.” You shot one of them with your widow bites and she went down easily. You dogged the attack, dropping to the ground and sticking out your leg. She fell but she grabbed onto your leg and threw you to the ground. You hit your head hard against the wooden gym floor. You both stood up slowly, facing each other. “I’m sorry,” you charged her, tackling her to the ground. She fought against you, hitting you but you were stronger. It was one quick punch and she was out cold. You fell back, your heart pounding in your rib cage as you stared at the unconscious Widow. “You can come out Yelena,” you said, standing up. The blonde walked out from behind the bleachers. 

“Are you okay?” She asked. You nodded. 

“Yeah,” you said, placing your hand on her back. “Let’s get out of here.” You ran out of the gym but there was a nagging feeling in the back of your head. They were too easy to take down. The girls were around Yelena’s age so they weren’t experienced. Why did he send them? “My car is over there,” you said, opening the door and pointing towards the direction of the car. The front of the school was still in chaos. “Let’s go,” you put the hood of Yelena’s jacket up to try to cover her face. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. The apology took you by surprise. It was something you weren’t expecting, especially from her. “I’m sorry you had to hurt them to protect me.” 

“I’ll do anything to protect you and Natasha, okay?” She nodded but you could still feel the guilt radiating off of her. You saw the Widow across the street and you pushed Yelena to the ground as the gun went off. The pain wasn’t bad as the bullet hit your stomach. Without thinking you raised your pistol and shot the Widow. It was a quick and easy kill but it somehow hurt more than the bullet. 

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you hissed as Yelena pushed her hands on the gunshot wound. 

“I’m okay, not my first time getting shot,” you joked. “I need you to drive. Can you do that?” Her face was drained of color but she nodded. “Good,” you handed her the keys and got into the car. 

“Where are we going?” Yelena asked, her hands stained red and shaking. 

“The safe house,” you said. “Drive.” She did as sirens began to echo towards the school.   

  *

You squeezed your eyes shut as Phil dug to get the bullet out of your stomach. The door to the safe house opened, you had half the mind to grab your gun but you heard Melina’s voice asking if Yelena was alright. Natasha and Maria walked over to you. You were only wearing a sports bra and jeans, sitting in the dining room. “She's gonna pull through, doc?” Natasha teased but you didn’t miss the concern in her eyes. 

“No exit wound,” Phil said, not looking up. “I have to get the bullet out before she heals.” 

“Super soldier serum,” you hissed. “We are giving it before graduation. Fuck, have you ever done this before?” You asked him. 

“Move out of the way before you do more damage,” Melina said, putting on gloves and taking the scalpel out of Phil’s hand. The agent moved out of the way, stealing a glance at Natasha. 

“Phil, go check in with Clint and see if he’s found anything,” he nodded, taking off his gloves. “Go talk to Yelena and get her statement,” Natasha hesitated but you nodded. She went to join the blonde on the couch. “I’ll be back to get your statement when you're all patched up.  

“Aye, aye, captain,” you gave her a salute. It was just you and Melina. You were surprised how gently her touch was when she tried to get the bullet out of your stomach. “I thought you didn't trust me,” you said. “Surprised you are allowing yourself in such a vulnerable position.” She got the bullet out and placed it on the paper towel. She cleaned the wound before stitching it up. 

“If you wanted me dead you would have killed me the moment I opened that door,” you chuckled. She wasn’t wrong. “Thank you for saving her.” She placed a bandage over the stitches.  

“No need to thank me,” you whispered. She took a step back and looked at you. Even with the serum rushing through your veins, it didn’t hide your scars. Each scar had a story, a name behind who gave it to you. These scars that littered your body were from other Widows during training, from Dreykov, and a few from your hand. You hated how small you felt under her eyes. 

“Where did you get this one?” She asked, touching a scar on your shoulder. 

“I got hit that night flying the plane,” you stood up, winching as you felt the stitches move. The serum would have healed soon. You helped her clean up the medical supplies. “Still managed to fly to Cuba much to Alexei’s disappointment.” You walked into the kitchen, throwing away the trash. Natasha and Yelena were on the couch and you found a new shirt resting on the back. You put it on. “Only thing that kept me going was your and their voice.” You continued. You rested your hand on Yelena’s shoulder, she looked up at you. “Are you okay, malen'koye solnyshko (little sun)?” She nodded. 

“I am. Thanks to you,” you kissed the top of her head before heading back into the kitchen. Natasha and Yelena followed you. You were surprised by how hungry you were. 

“The entire flight I thought Alexei was going to shoot me. I’ve never seen him so angry,” you continued unsure why you were telling them. The words kept following you. “Want a sandwich?” You asked them. Melina and Natasha shook their heads but Yelena let out a quiet, “Yes, please.” “When we landed in Cuba, I stood in front of Dreyokv, Alexei behind him, and guards circling us with their guns drawn. I stood there, unarmed, with a bullet hole in my shoulder.” You cut Yelena’s sandwich in half and placed it in front of her. You began to make your own. “Dreyokv asked where you guys were and I said I didn’t know. Alexei said he’d deal with me,” you felt a chill down your spine. “But Dreykov stopped him and said he knew how to handle me.” You turned your back to them so you wouldn’t have to see their expression. 

“What did he do to you?” Melina asked. You closed the fridge, no longer feeling hungry. 

“What didn’t he do to me is the better question,” you walked back over to them, eyes glued on your sandwich. You didn’t want to go into too much detail. Yelena was still so young and you didn’t want to taint her view of the world. “I was his malen'kiy pauk (little spider). He wanted to break me but I wouldn’t break.” You took a bite, it tasted bad but you knew you needed the energy. You glanced up at Melina. Her expression was hard to read, it was a strange mix of anger, sadness, and guilt. You shrugged. “But once he’s gone, everything will go back to normal.” You finished the sandwich and put your dish in the sink. “I’ll be in the room Maria gave me if you need anything.” You quickly left, closing the door behind you. Resting your head against the wooden door, you let out a shaky breath and closed your eyes. You could feel his hands on you as you knelt in front of him or one of his advisors. The blood that covered your hands was because of that man. But you weren’t the only one trapped and hurting because one man believed he was God. 

*

“We found this,” Clint said, placing a piece of paper on the table. 

“What does it say?” Fury asked. He was videoing in for this meeting. 

“Come home, malen'kiy pauk (little spider),” Natasha said. Your sisters and Melina looked at you. You leaned back in the chair, hand on your chin. He wanted you back. Time and time again, he told you you were his most prized possession. 

“Okay,” you finally said. “If he wants me then he can have me. We can use it as a trap.” 

“There is no way it will be that easy,” Clint said. It won’t be. But you were done with this cat-and-mouse game you were playing. 

“It won’t be,” you said, standing up. “He could have sent Widows much stronger than he did but he didn’t. Everything that man does has a purpose.”

“What was his reasoning?” Maria asked. You put your hands on your hips. 

“To prove a point,” you whispered. “It said that no matter where we go or what we do he has the power to find us,” you faced Fury. “Dreyokv’s daughter is our way to him and we know she’s in Budapest. I’ll end it there.”

“No,” Melina said. Your head whipped to look at the older Black Widow. “You aren’t doing this alone.” 

“She’s right,” Natasha added. “We’ll help you take him down.” 

“Alright,” you looked back at Fury. “Pack your bags. You leave tomorrow.” 

*

A plan was made and you were folding your clothes into your duffle bag. You found the photo strip and you picked it up, sitting on the bed. You remembered that day so clearly. Melina and Alexei brought you and your sisters to the mall to get school supplies. You pleaded for a few quarters to do the photo booth. In the end, it was Yelena’s puppy dog eyes that caught them breaking. “I’m sorry,” you looked up to see Melina. The apology sounded so strange coming from her. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back for you and wasn’t strong enough to save all three of you back then,” you stared at her, mouth open slightly as she walked in and sat down. “I cycled through the Red Room so many times before you were even born. For the longest time, those walls were all I knew and I was never given a choice. Until a 14-year-old girl gave me one,” you smiled, whipping away a tear that fell. “Natasha and Yelena were all I had for the longest time and I’d do anything to protect them.” You nodded. 

“I get it,” you whispered. “I’m disposable.” Melina’s eyes grew wide.

“No, dorogoy (sweetheart), you are not,” she cupped your cheeks in her hands, pushing the tears away that fell. “You are…” she paused. “Everything. You are the reason I am here, the reason Yelena gets to graduate high school, and the reason Natasha won’t admit her feelings for Maria,” you laughed at Melina’s jab at your sister. “So, thank you. Even though it’s been a long time, you are still part of this family. Okay?” 

“Okay,” you whispered, nodding your head. You whipped away your tears. “What happened to me wasn’t your fault.” She frowned, looking down at her hands. 

“Why does a mouse born in a cage run on that little wheel?” You didn’t know the answer or if she wanted you to respond. 

“But you aren’t a mouse, mama. You were just born in a cage but that’s not your fault.” Melina scoffed, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“Tell me, how did you keep your heart?” It was your turn to think over what she said. You smiled. 

“Pain only makes us stronger,” you quoted her. It was a common phrase thrown around in Ohio. But the strongest memory of it was the night you left. Yelena was chasing you and Natasha and she fell and hurt her knee. “Didn’t you tell us that? What you taught us kept me alive.” 

*

You were up when you heard a soft knock on your door. Standing up, you opened the door and saw your two sisters. “Is everything okay?” Natasha looked nervous, shifting her weight. Yelena rolled her eyes. 

“Can we sleep in here tonight?” Yelena asked. “With the shooting and everything that is going on, we're scared and worried.” You smiled, stepping out of the way so they could come in. After closing the door, you joined them. Yelena was in the middle, you, and Natasha on either side of her. It was how you would lay back in Ohio. “We’re gonna be okay, right?” You stole a glance at Natasha. 

“Of course, we will be,” you said, running your fingers through her blonde hair. It was a dangerous promise. 

“Because we’re together,” Natasha looked at you with a smile. 

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Sometimes in our lives, we will have pain and sorrow but if we are wise we know that there’s a tomorrow.” Yelena smiled. 

“Lean on me. When you're not strong.”

“I’ll be your friend. I’ll help you carry on.” Natasha added. Like when Melina told you that pain only made you stronger, it was common for you to say a phrase or two when your sisters were struggling with nightmares or in school. You were surprised they remembered it. 

“Exactly,” you said. “Now, we need to get some sleep. We have a busy few days ahead of us.”    

[jackiequick]

Reverse Betrayal - Agent of SHIELD….HYDRA? | [ Flipped AU]

AU —— Amelia has been apart of the Inhuman/Brotherhood Of Mutants and Hydra all along, and is working against SHIELD (Why? We will never know..). After she had to reveal her powers to control a handful of soldiers after them while keeping a few in the process, to try Ward, to save the team and complete the mission. 

He decided to protect her and hide her secret, not knowing she was a spy. She doesn’t want to be saved or protected, in fear of letting her guard down, choosing to run away but Ward always finds her. The young heroes will always find her.

“I was trying to protect you..”

“So was I.” 

“So what are you doing?”

“I took your advice..I stopped running.”

“Look at me, baby, look at me! I won’t hurt you, I promise that.”

“Even after the hell I put you though?”

~~~~

Name: Amelia Rachel Mary Morse

Codename: Tempest 

Date of Birth: July 14, 1995

Nationality: Italian-American

Place of Origin: Queens, New York

Age: Varies depending on the timeline

Height: 5’2

Sexuality: Straight (though her loyalty often comes before any personal relationships)

Species: Inhuman/Mutant with the power to control and manipulate emotions

Affiliation: Hydra, Brotherhood of Mutants

Rank: High-ranking operative within Hydra's ranks, trusted member of the Brotherhood

Appearance: Amelia has a striking presence, with expressive eyes that seem to hold a secret. She often wears a confident smirk, giving off an air of mystery and danger. Her attire is sleek and practical, fitting for someone who operates in the shadows.

Abilities:

Emotion Manipulation: Amelia possesses the ability to sense, alter, and control the emotions of others. She can incite fear, anger, or calmness at will, using her powers to manipulate situations to Hydra's advantage.

Mental Resistance: Years of training and exposure to Hydra's methods have given Amelia a strong mental fortitude, making her resistant to telepathic intrusion and manipulation.

Combat Training: Trained in various forms of hand-to-hand combat and armed combat, Amelia is a formidable opponent in combat situations.

Background: Unlike the original timeline where Amelia dreamed of becoming a SHIELD agent to protect and serve, in this AU, she was recruited into Hydra at a young age. Growing up in Queens, she always felt like an outsider, hiding her true nature as an Inhuman/Mutant. When Hydra discovered her abilities in the later years, they saw her potential as a valuable asset. However she made it clear to have her abilities used on her own terms and conditions, she wasn't going to be their little toy.

Under the guise of a loyal agent, Amelia rose through the ranks of Hydra, honing her skills and serving their sinister agenda. She became known as Tempest, a name that struck fear or uncertainty into the hearts of her enemies. "Tempest" symbolize her ability to stir up and control emotions, much like a storm can whip up turbulent winds and chaos. It also represent her inner turmoil and the internal struggles she faces as she grapples with her loyalties and the choices she must make.

Alongside her allegiance to Hydra, she also aligned herself with the Brotherhood of Mutants, drawn to their vision of mutant supremacy.

Motivation: Amelia's loyalty to Hydra stems from a desire for power and control. Having felt marginalized and overlooked for much of her life, she sees Hydra as a means to exert her influence and shape the world according to her will. She believes in the supremacy of mutants and is willing to do whatever it takes to ensure their dominance.

Relationships: While Amelia may form alliances and partnerships within Hydra and the Brotherhood, her true loyalty lies with her own ambitions. She is skilled at manipulation and may feign friendships or romantic entanglements to further her own agenda. However, deep down, she harbors a sense of loneliness and isolation, knowing that her true nature must remain hidden from those around her.

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Additional Information:

Deep down, Amelia harbors a sense of loneliness and isolation, knowing that her true nature must remain hidden from those around her. Despite this, she found solace in a relationship with her boyfriend Nikolai, where they shared a sense of comfort, understanding, and love.

When Amelia was assigned by her boss John Garrett, an undercover Hydra agent within SHIELD, to work alongside Phil Coulson and his team, she was hesitant at first. However, she discovered a warmth, confidence, and strong sense of compassion when working with Coulson and meeting the Young Avengers. 

Over time, she found herself drawn to them, allowing her walls to slowly fall as she began to desire something more for herself.

During the fall of SHIELD and the revelation of Hydra's infiltration, Amelia's cover was blown along with many other agents.

In a pivotal moment, she betrayed Ward and the team, saving them and herself. Following Hydra's downfall, Amelia went into hiding, forging her own path and rebuilding her guard. 

However, she remained on the radar of both the Young Avengers and SHIELD...

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This was my excuse to make an baddie Mia haha. Now it’s your turn to flip an characters around ;)

Anyways tell me what you guys think!

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