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arlana-likes-to-write · 2 months ago

Note

hi! I’m not sure if you are in the mood of writing dark topics, but I thought I’d just put this out here, you don’t have to write it! I have always been suicidal sinces I was young, death it was never something that scares me, through out my life it was always up and down, sometimes those thoughts are strong, sometimes non existent. But recently it has been getting worse than it has ever been. I have always been pushed to do better, and that just recently got very overwhelming for me as my friend had won an award with basically zero experience at a activity while I had triple her experience but still have not won an award yet, I know how it sounds but for me it’s still hurts a lot, I felt like I could never be great in anyway. And my mom is not helpful in anyway possible. Natasha Romanoff and Maria Hill has always been comfort characters to me, they helped me through some of the toughest times, so I’m trying to see if this trick still work :), if you could write a shot on a suicidal based or maybe even suicidal attempt with black hill x daughter reader it would mean the world to me. Again I understand that this is quite heavy so no pressure:) have a great day xx

Not Enough (Enough to me)

AS STATED IN THE ASK THIS STORY HAS THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME. PLEASE DO NOT READ IT. TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.

Note: As always, I'm so glad you are still here.

Warnings: suicidal thoughts, mention of self-arm, mention of past abuse, sparring that leads to an injury, injury, protective blackhill parents

Relationship: Blackhill x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 4K

As soon as you show interest in space, your parents feed into it. It was a dream of yours to work at SABER. At first, it was NASA, but it took one story from your Aunt Carol to change your course. The idea of working in space on a space station and protecting Earth was enough for you to focus on your studies and physical fitness. You wanted no special treatment from Fury or Monica. You wanted to join the program on your merit and not who your parents are.

Maria Hill and Natasha Romanoff—the Black Widow and the Commander, the Avenger and agent of SWORD—it seemed impossible to go anywhere and not hear their names. When you told them of your dream, they supported you but expressed their concern for your safety, which was fair, but this was your dream.

The classes were challenging. The training sessions were brutal. But you gave it your all and came out on top of your class for the past two semesters. However, you were passed on an opportunity when you were the better candidate by a mile. There were rumors that your classmate got it from a very influential family. He complained to your professor and got it.

Sighing, you closed your eyes and blocked out the lights that danced on your ceiling. The paper that explained why you weren’t selected fell to the floor. One evening, Yelena asked why you wanted to go into space. She said you could make a difference on Earth. You told her the stars and planets fascinated you more. In space, there were so many unknowns yet to be discovered. You wanted to be part of the exploration.

However, you had a hidden motive for choosing space. The further ‘planet’ from Earth was 3.7 billion meters away. That was not counting warp points to other parts of the galaxy. Pluto was 3.7 billion meters away. That planet was the most straightforward comparison to show how vast space is for the average person on Earth. At any given moment, you could be that far away from all of your problems and demons. If you were 3.7 billion meters away, the darkness in your mind couldn’t hurt you.

At 5 years old, you were dropped off at a church. Your biological parents decided one night they no longer wanted to be parents. So the church brought you in. However, you endured the abuse from them for 5 years. It seemed by fate that you ran into Natasha and Maria. They saved you and adopted you on your 11th birthday. Finally, you had a safe home where you felt love. But the demons of your past still haunted you.

When it was quiet, and you allowed your thoughts to wander, you wondered if you were the problem. Maybe you weren’t good enough - that was why your biological parents gave you up, or the church hurt you. When were Natasha and Maria going to let you go? It was a waiting game, a ticking time clock. “Sweetheart,” Maria said, followed by a knock on your door.

You sat up. “Come in,” you forced the words out of your mouth. It tasted bitter. You wanted to be alone. The door opened, and Maria walked in. You moved to the middle of the bed so there was space for her. It was second nature to lay beside her and look at the ceiling.

“Tell me about that one,” Maria pointed to a deep indigo planet with teal streaks. Each star and planet that glowed on your ceiling was real. Another gift from Carol is that she recorded the planets she visited to give to you. It was tradition for one of your moms to lay on your bed and ask you a question.

“That is Vorexia,” you said. You saw her look at you, but you kept your eyes on the planet. “It’s terrestrial with an orbital period of 380 Earth days and a rotation period of 26 Earth hours,” you folded your hands behind your head. There are three major land masses, and the oceans are iridescent blue-green due to the bioluminescent plankton. Vorexia has two moons.” Maria let out a low whistle.

“Damn, you are so smart. Did not get that from your mom,” she teased. You rolled your eyes at her playful jab at the Black Widow. You felt her move onto her side to look at you. “You seemed quiet at dinner. Your mom and I were worried.”

“I’m fine,” you smiled and looked at her. “Just tired. Training was a bitch.” You heard a gasp from the hallway.

“Language,” Natasha said as she entered your room. “You know Steve doesn’t like that kind of talk.” The Black Widow lay on your other side with her back against the headboard. “Is it my turn to pick?”

“Come on, Nat. She just said she was tired. Let her rest. " It was funny to see a pout form on the redhead’s face.

“It’s fine,” you said. “Pick one.” You gently tapped her leg and brought your attention back to the ceiling. She waited for a few passes, then decided on a planet that was a mass of fiery orange and deep red. “Drakaris,” you whispered. “Unlike Earth, the planet’s atmosphere is thick with heavy carbon and a high sulfur content. There are three moons, and a phenomenon called the Burning Tides can occur, which is when the methane seas ignite due to atmospheric lightning.”

“Shit, kid,” Natasha said. “You get your brains from me.” Laughter broke out between you and Maria while Natasha was lost on what was funny.

Laughing and being surrounded by your moms was nice but it filled you with guilt. Why were you so sad and lost when you had everything?

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Somehow, you failed. You stared at the test on your desk with a red 48 circled on the top. How was it possible? You studied for hours. For each practice test, you got at least a 97. How was this possible?

The rest of the class was a blur. A mind-numbing haze surrounded you. You came back to yourself when your professor called your name to stay after class. He asked if everything was alright at home due to your poor grades. Then he tackled on that he expected more from his best student.

You were his best student, but he passed you on the promotion to someone less deserving. You told him you would try harder and left the classroom. Classes were over, and you wanted to release all this pent-up frustration.

Better. He wanted you to be better because you weren’t enough. A simple statement to work harder felt like a slap on the face. All of your fears were confirmed. You needed to hit something hard.

You walked into the gym and into the locker room to change. The shirt was Natasha’s. It was one of her old SHIELD shirts. You felt stronger with one of your mom’s shirts during training. It was a placebo effect. Maria and Natasha watched your back during whatever fight you went in.

You were focused on each punch you sent to the sandbag. The tension was already leaving your shoulders. Although you preferred the logical and scientific side of your career path, you were trained by some of the best. “Agent Spider,” you rolled your eyes at the obnoxious nickname our classmates called you. As soon as they found out who your parents were, the name took like flies to honey. Jayce was the one who called you. He also was the one that your professor chose. “Wanna spar?” He asked and pointed to the mat behind him. A few of your other classmates were gathered around to watch.

“Sure,” you said, even though you were dreading it. But you were backed into a corner - called out in front of everyone. You stood on the sparring mat and faced Jayce. You’ve fought him before. He was stronger than you, but you made up for it with precision. Natasha taught you that no matter how big your opponent was, you could take them down if you were fast and technical.

Jayce rolled his shoulders and adjusted his stance. “I’m not gonna hold back, spider.” You stretched your arms.

“I expected nothing less, Yee,” you heard one of your classmates count down from 3 then yell, ‘Begin!’ You wanted to strike first, a quick step-in jab aimed at his ribs. He barely managed to parry before you spun into a high kick to force him back. The plan was to be relentless and tire him out.

But he pressed on. Jayce absorbed a few glancing hits before countering. He faked a jab to your left, drawing your guard, then swept low with his leg. You stumbled, barely catching yourself. “Getting slow, Jayce,” you taunted. Your stamina was keeping the fight out of his reach. Adrenaline was running through your veins. You were winning this fight. You were going to prove that you deserved to be here more than him.

“Just warming up,” he grinned, sweat dripping down his brow. He took to your strategy and came at you hard. A punch, a knee to your side - you blocked most but not all. You gritted your teeth and retaliated with an elbow strike to his chin.

Something inside him snapped.

You saw it in his eyes.

Fueled by frustration, Jayce grabbed your wist mid-strike and yanked hard. A moment of imbalance. A single misstep. Before you could react, Jayce pivoted and twisted your arm behind your back with too much force. A sickening crack echoed in the gym.

You tried to fight it, but you screamed. Jayce loosened his grip, and you crumbled to the mat, clutching your arm. The room fell into a stunned silence, then erupted into noise.

Too many hands were on you. Someone called for the doctor. During the chaos, you found Jayce with no regret on his face.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

According to Helen, you were lucky it was a clean break, and surgery wasn’t required. Nothing felt lucky about this situation. You were beaten. Again, you weren’t good enough. You knew you should have felt pain during the x-ray or when the cast got set on your arm, but you felt nothing. Again, a numbness washed over you.

Suddenly, the door to the room you were in opened. Your arm was on a side table as you waited for Helen to return. She wrapped it with a layer of soft, stretching fabric that she called a stockinette. Then, a roll of cotton is placed over it to put light pressure on the area and help it heal. She had to get the color you requested. First, you had to deal with your moms. “Hey, sweetheart,” Maria smiled. “How are you?”

“Okay,” you shrugged. “Helen gave me some medicine, so I don’t feel it.” It wasn’t a total lie. You wondered if it would have made a difference. Natasha sighed and kissed the top of your head.

“What happened, malen’kiy?” It had been years since she used that nickname. When the couple first adopted you, you took the time to learn Russian. You were like a sponge when it came to the language. She called you ‘little one.’

“It was an accident,” you told them. I was sparring with a classmate. He got the better of me. “You tried to joke, but you saw the look shared between the couple. Helen said I won’t need surgery,” you tried to change the topic. I’ll be out of training for a few weeks. "

“Who were you sparring with?” Maria asked. You felt small underneath her gaze. The look reminded you of when she was upset at new agents or when Natasha got hurt when Steve claimed it was an easy mission.

“Uh,” you were stalling. The last thing you wanted was for your moms to make a scene, but you couldn’t lie to them. “His name is Jayce Yee. Please don’t do anything,” you pleaded. “We were just sparring.” You watched the tension slowly leave Maria’s shoulders, but she still looked pissed. Before she could answer, Helen walked through the door with the next part of the cast.

“Alright,” she paused, clearly sensing the tension in the room. Her eyes danced between you and your moms. “Is everything okay? I can come back.”

“No!” You cringed at the sound. “I mean, can we just get this over with? I want to go home.” Maria sighed. She mimicked her partner and kissed the top of your head.

“Let’s see what color you picked out.” You picked out red, which Natasha was very happy about. Once the cast hardened, your moms were the first to sign it. They treated you to ice cream afterward, but you were thankful to finally go home.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You sat on your bed, back against your headboard, with a pencil down your cast. No one told you how itchy a cast would be. Sighing, you threw the pencil to the ground and looked up at the planets circling overhead. With your arm broken, you would be out of training and fall behind on the physical aspect, which was a problem because your test was coming up.

Everything was falling apart. It was like you were trying to hold onto water, but it was slipping through your fingers. You felt out of control, and everything was your fault. You heard footsteps approaching before you saw them. It was Natasha. She had a piece of paper in her hand. “How’s adjusting to the cast?” she asked while sitting next to you.

“It’s itchy,” you grumbled. The Black Widow laughed and pushed some hair out of your face. “Is there something else you wanted to talk about?” Your eyes subconsciously looked at the papers in her hand.

“Are you having trouble at school?” The question caught you off guard and froze you at the very spot you were sitting at. “We got this in the mail,” Natasha handed it to you. If you need help, I’m sure Maria can put in a word for you.”

You snatched the paper out of her and read it over. According to the document, you were on the verge of failing out of the program. That was impossible. You failed one test. “Sweetheart,” your hands crumbled the paper. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“This has to be a mistake,” you whispered, handing it back to her. “A-a glitch in the system. I’ll talk to my professor tomorrow.”

“Do you want-?”

“No.” You cut her off and shook your head. “No, I can handle it.” The whole point was to do this on your own without their influence. For some reason, Natasha gave you a small smile. It looked sad.

“Okay, honey,” she kissed your forehead. Come get us if you need anything,” she squeezed your non-cast hand. Anything at all, okay?”

“Okay,” you promised. “Thanks, mama.” When she left with the paper in her hand, she gave you one final smile. You flopped onto your stomach, face buried in the pillow. One thing after another after another. It seemed like everything was piling up.

Sitting up suddenly, you closed the door and walked over to your dresser. At the bottom of your sock drawer, there was a small box. Once upon a time, it was a box that once held a pair of earrings from Yelena. Now, it held a darker secret: a small razor blade. The item only came out when the world around you became too much. You changed into shorts and slipped on one of Maria’s old sweatshirts. Opening the window in your room, you climbed onto the roof.

You discovered by accident that you could access the roof by your window. A few years back, the news reported a meteor shower, and you wanted to see it. So you opened the window and climbed onto the roof. You were grounded for a week, but the view was spectacular.

You sat in the middle of the roof and looked at the city. Some parts of Earth’s beauty made your decision to work at SABER difficult. Your parents were here, and you’d hate to be so far from them. But there were things on Earth that could not be replicated in space—memories of you living in the city. The lights and sounds of New York were unmatched. It was a one-of-a-kind experience. Some of your happiest memories and darkest traumas happened in this city.

The box felt heavy in your hands. Deep down, you feared it wouldn’t be enough. The pain wouldn’t stop the feeling of dread that consumed you. You were never going to be good enough, no matter how hard you tried. Why couldn’t you be better?

It would be so easy to walk off the roof. Oddly enough, that thought didn’t scare you. Your home was two stories. It was a 50-50 shot that the fall would kill you.

The night sky was beautiful. Everything felt poetic. But you remained frozen to the spot. Typical, you cursed; you were too chicken to kill yourself. “Sweetheart,” you jumped at Maria’s sudden voice. “Can I join you up there?” You stared at her, blinking a few times. It was hard to comprehend her sudden appearance with half of her body out of your bedroom window. “I can stay right here,” a beat of silence passed. “What are you doing up here?”

“I-” You weren’t sure how to answer her. How could you look at your mother and tell her you came up here to make yourself bleed? To maybe take a few steps and end it all. “I don’t know,” you settled on. Maria nodded.

“What is your favorite space phenomenon?” You were sure confusion was all over your face. “Come on, squirt, I know you know this answer.” You huffed and stared at the city instead of the sky above. Still, you saw her move to be entirely on the roof. She kept her distance.

“It’s called the magnetars,” you gave in. “It’s a type of neutron star with an insanely powerful magnetic field. These objects are born from a massive star explosion and have a quadrillion times stronger magnetic field than Earth.”

A small smile came to your face. “What makes them so intriguing is that they sometimes produce starquakes - sudden shifts in their crusts that release intense bursts of x-ray and gamma rays. Some magnetars have emitted flares so powerful that they briefly affected Earth’s atmosphere,” the smile you were once wearing faded. “Sometimes the things that happen in space are so extreme it’s hard to comprehend. It’s so complicated,” you continued. “It will take a lifetime to understand it.” During your monologue, Maria made her way over to you. Her leg was slightly touching yours. You were okay with the contact. “Sometimes I don’t think I’ll be good enough to reach it.”

“Is that why you came out here? To see the stars one last time,” your head snapped away from the city lights to look at your mom. She was already staring at you. There was no pity in her eyes but love.

“I—” but you couldn’t tell her that she was wrong when that very thought crossed your mind. When I get stuck in my head, I see myself in a tunnel,” you closed your eyes and imagined it. Everything I love and I want is on one end, and I’m on the other. No matter how hard I try or how fast I run, I can’t reach you.”

Those at the other end constantly changed. Sometimes, it was your biological parents, and you pleaded for them to come back until your throat was raw. Other times, it was your dreams of getting into SABER. Recently, it was Maria and Natasha. You wanted them to stay, but they would leave you in the dark. “I just want to be good enough for you and Mama so you don’t leave me.”

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Maria hugged you. Your tears fell down your cheeks. Everything hurt. Each breath felt like you were inhaling shards of glass. Maria held on tighter to stop your body from shaking. “You will always be enough to me, your mam, and all your aunts and uncles.” She forced your chin up and whipped your tear-stained cheeks. “No matter what grade you get on a test or if you fall short of your goals, we will never leave you. You are our daughter. Now and forever.” You nodded and leaned back against her.

She was warm and safe and smelt like coffee, which you associate with home. A shiver went down your spine from the cold. “Come on. Let’s go back inside. Your mama is probably pacing a hole in your room.” She managed to make you smile. You nodded and allowed her to help you into your room.

Before you were settled on the ground, Natasha pulled you into a hug. “Gods, I knew we should have locked your window the first time we found you on the roof.” Maria laughed and closed the window behind you.

“There is no stopping this one from seeing the stars.”

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

“Of course, malen’kiy,” Natasha guided you to their bedroom with Maria behind you. Lilo was sleeping on the bed but jumped off when Natasha pulled back the covers for you, and you climbed in. With a smile, Natasha held out her hand for the box. You were too tired to argue, so you handed it over. “Sleep,” she whispered and sat on the edge of the bed. We will be right here.”

“Promise?” You asked and closed your eyes.

“Promise,” Maria repeated and joined on the other side. Natasha began to hum. A simple tune that helped you fall asleep when you first moved in with the couple. Like before, you fell right asleep.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Natasha kept humming until she knew you were asleep. “Did you tell her?” The Black Widow asked and opened the small box in her hands. She knew what would be in it, but it still took her breath away - a small razor. Oh, her sweet girl, you were hurting too much. How blind was she to it? Maria sighed, took the box, and set it on the side table.

“No,” Maria said. “She unloaded a lot. I didn’t think it was appropriate.” The letter from your school left an odd feeling inside Natasha’s stomach. The program was challenging, but you always excelled in it. At night, you would do your homework in the kitchen. Natasha thought you were studying a different language, but you loved it. Going against her word to not get involved, she and Maria dug into the program and found corruption. Jayce failed, and his family bribed your professor to keep him in. To make room, your professor purposely failed you. This meant Jayce breaking your arm was not an accident.

Natasha saw red. How dare someone hurt you because they were jealous or entitled? When Maria found your room empty and the window open, all her anger left. You were her priority. “I can’t lose her, Ria,” Natasha whispered, running her hand over your cast. “She is the best part of both of us.” Maria kissed your forehead, then kissed Natasha.

“We haven’t lost her,” Maria interlocked her hand with Natasha’s. “She’s right here. We will pull her off the edge.” The redhead brought Maria’s hand to her lips.

“What’s your favorite space phenomenon? " she asked her partner. Maria huffed and shook her head, but Natasha saw the corners of her lips turn up into a smile. They’ve been on so many sides of your rants about random space phenomena that they must have absorbed some of it.

“Probably galaxy mergers,” Maria answered. It’s when two galaxies drift close together. Their gravity pulls them into a dance until they merge into one.” Maria took a pause. Rather than chaos, these mergers often lead to new bursts of star formations.” Natasha smiled.

She liked that one too. It symbolized unity. Even in the vastness, things could come together. It was a reminder that even through turbulence, connection can lead to growth and beauty.

It was sound symbolism for the moment now. A lot was uncertain, but Natasha knew you would emerge from this turbulence brighter.

#blackhill x daughter #blackhill x daughter!reader #blackhill #maria hill x you #maria hill x reader #maria hill x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #maria hill x natasha romanoff #maria hill x natasha romanoff x reader

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nataliasquote · 1 year ago

Text

Double the trouble [pt. 5] | n romanoff

Double the trouble au

Summary: Y/n faces some difficult feelings, whilst Isla decides to take matters into her own hands, making decisions that could fall flat on their face

Warnings: none, major fluff

Pairings: WandaNat, Maria Hill x reader

wc: 3.7k

- ⧗ -

"So did you kiss her?" Clint asked, spinning a pair of drumsticks around his fingers as he eagerly awaited an answer. But Maria just wrinkled her nose at him, disgusted.

"She's my best friend, idiot. Don't paint us like that."

Clint shrugged. "I'm just saying, she's single now, so you can shoot your shot. It's been what, 5 years? At this point you're going to be waiting your entire life to get the girl you want."

If looks could kill, Clint would be in the ground. Maria hated that he was right, but she didn't want to ruin the friendship she treasured so much. Y/n was her closest friend, the one she told everything to. They'd been inseparable since middle school and Maria didn't know what she'd do without her.

That night on the couch was purely to comfort Y/n. It didn't mean anything else. They always hugged, Y/n was a touchy person, and Maria just wanted to be there for her. But she would be lying if she said there wasn't a small part of her that wanted to hold the redhead tight and never let her go.

But Y/n was vulnerable and had made it pretty clear she wasn't going to be dating anytime soon. Bucky may not be on her mind as much, but she still had scars that hadn't quite healed.

"I'm not going to ruin our friendship Clint, and that's final. And if you say anything to her, I will not hesitate to chop your dick off." Her cold glare told him she meant it. And who was he to mess with her?

But as the weeks trickled by and everyone started excitedly chatting about the upcoming winter formal, Maria couldn't help but daydream. She'd stumble over her own feet to ask Y/n to the dance as her date, feeling on top of the world with the redhead on her arm. But Y/n would probably find a date by herself, because best friends just didn't go together.

"You've got your thinking face on again," Y/n noted, stealing a chip from the open packet on the table. "What's up?"

"Nothing. Just thinking about finals, that's all."

Y/n hummed and crossed her ankles over. Her legs were draped across Maria's lap as they lounged on the couch, a random chick flick playing in the background on the large living room tv. "What about the winter formal? Any cute girls catching your attention?"

Maria took her opportunity to busy herself with her drink, taking extra long sips to buy herself some time. "Nope. Not really." Little liar. Well, kind of. Because Y/n was so much more than just a 'cute girl'.

"I would have thought you'd have been asked by now," Y/n said after fiddling with her phone for a little bit. "Wait, did I ever show you my dress? I bought it with Mama the other week and it's perfect." She held up her phone up to show her best friend and Maria's heart skipped a beat.

It was only a generic image from google, but the brunette couldn't help but let her imagination run wild at the thought of Y/n wearing it. The emerald green satin was simple but effective, and the thigh high slit in the side set her heart racing. There was no doubt in her mind that Y/n would look like a goddess wearing it and her heart clenched. Someone was going to be really lucky to have her.

"You'll look beautiful," Maria said softly, her eyes flicking up to look at Y/n over the top of the phone. "Your date will be pinching themselves."

Y/n blushed, ducking behind her hair as it swung forward over her shoulder. "At this rate I'll be going alone. But I don't care. I'm more excited about the dress." Y/n knew exactly who she wanted to take her to the dance, but asking her was too much of a risk. Maria had her eyes on other girls for sure.

Maria left after the movie ended to get home to her mom, leaving Y/n on the couch. Isla was out on a date with Valkyrie so there was not much else for Y/n to do. She wandered into her moms' room where Natasha was reading a book, glasses halfway down her nose.

"Mama?" She knocked on the door even thought it was open because Natasha was known to be jumpy. But the older redhead just looked up and smiled, placing her book closed by her side.

"Hey malyshka, is everything ok?" She noticed Y/n's hesitant body language and patted the space beside her on the large kingside bed. "Has Maria gone home?"

Y/n nodded as she climbed up, settling under Natasha's arm and cuddling into her side. "How did you know you liked girls?" She blurted out, screwing her eyes shut. There was supposed to be a build up but clearly her brain was more eager to learn.

Natasha's brows shot up in surprise and she was glad Y/n couldn't see the smile she was suppressing. "What makes you ask?"

"Just wondering."

"Well, the very first time I saw your mom in the meeting room back at the agency, I couldn't get out of my head. I hadn't thought about my sexuality much beforehand, but she just made everything make sense."

Natasha and Wanda never really spoke much about their time working for the government. They just referred to it as 'The Agency' days, never once disclosing the true name of the organisation. But both Y/n and Isla knew their moms had been spies in their youth, so they never pushed them for more information. A dance studio owner and stay at home mom suited them a lot better in their opinion.

"So you didn't like anyone before you met Mom?"

"I suppose I had a boyfriend at some point, but it never really felt right. Sort of like a means to an end, in a way."

"But then with mom it felt different?"

Natasha loved how soft Y/n was being. She was the more gentle one out of the two, but rarely did she open up about topics quite like this. It made Natasha hold her that little bit tighter.

"I couldn't imagine a life without her," Natasha admitted, getting lost in memories in her mind. Barely twenty five years old and completely head over heels for a gorgeous auburn haired woman with mind reading abilities. "She was the reason I kept going."

"How did you tell her how you felt?" Her moms' love story was everything she aspired to have in life. Even twenty years later they still were just as in love with each other as they were when they were younger. "What if she didn't even like girls?"

Natasha let out a laugh. "Trust me, sweetheart, there was no way your mom was into guys. And there was also no way I was going to let her get away without at least telling her how I felt."

"You make it sound so easy," Y/n grumbled, slumping down into the mattress. She was beginning to hate relationships. Why did they require so much brain power? She wanted everything to just pan out the way she wanted, but unfortunately that required a lot of effort.

"May I ask where this is coming from?" Natasha could take an accurate guess, but she wanted to hear it straight from Y/n before she concluded anything.

"Nothing, I just-"

Natasha gently gave her daughter a nudge. "Y/n, you don't have to hide anything from me. I'm your Mama, I thought we had no secrets?" Natasha was not pushing her to come out in any way, but she also didn't like seeing her youngest so troubled. If it was something they could sort out together, then she would rather know.

But Y/n just mumbled something and buried her face in her mother's side, slipping down the bed away from her sitting position. Natasha shook her head at her antics and gently stroked her back, just like she did when her girls were little.

"If you actually spoke so I could understand, that would help," she teased. "Preferably English, but if Russian or Sokovian is what you prefer then I'll allow that too."

Y/n untucked her head and lightly glared at her mother who just raised her eyebrows, still waiting for her response. There was no getting out of this one now.

"I just don't know what to do. Every time I see her I feel all bubbly inside and everything she does is just so perfect but she's my best friend and I can't risk messing this up because I don't want to lose her and-"

"Ok, ok, and breathe." Y/n's words flowed out like word vomit and Natasha thought her daughter might pass out before she managed to finish her sentence. "Now, who is this about?"

"Maria," the young redhead mumbled barely above a whisper. "I'm being stupid, I know."

"You're not stupid baby, not at all." Y/n still wasn't convinced. But her head was tucked so tightly against Natasha that she didn't hear Wanda enter the room. The Sokovian paused at the door, a pile of folded laundry tucked under her arm as she processed the scene in front of her. Natasha brought her finger to her lips and shook her head and Wanda nodded, shifting her weight to lean against the doorframe.

"I am stupid because she's going to hate me and never be friends with me again because falling for your best friend is the dumbest thing I could do and she doesn't even feel the same way and I-"

"Malyshka you're going to work yourself up into a panic attack if you don't slow down and breathe." Natasha could feel Y/n's stress radiating through her as she dragged her fingertips up her daughter's spine gently. Wanda's brows furrowed as she watched, her heart aching for her youngest.

"I just don't want to mess it up Mama." Y/n finally brought her head up and looked at Natasha, her eyes glossy with tears. "She's my best friend."

"You know, Nat was my best friend before we got together,” Wanda finally made her presence known, much to her daughter’s surprise. “Almost as close as you and Maria are now.”

Y/n’s brow furrowed, looking at Natasha and then back to Wanda. “How did you know who I was talking about?”

“Mothers know everything.” She gracefully moved over to the dresser and placed the clothes in their rightful places. “Sometimes you just have to take a chance with these things. But don’t rush it or force it, if it wants to happen, it will. But what I do know is that Maria cares for you an awful lot, so I don’t think you have much to worry about.”

Wanda wasn’t wrong. Maria looked at Y/n as though she hung the stars in the sky. She’d do anything for that special redhead, including supporting her from afar when she decided to date someone else. Maria thought the world of her best friend, but Y/n had been too blind to see it.

Google wasn’t nearly as helpful as her moms had been, yet somehow Y/n found herself scrolling through article after article of different advice forums telling you what to do if you have a crush on your best friends. Probably not the best use of her time at 2am on a sunday morning, especially when the horror stories vastly outweighed the positive ones. She finally fell asleep far more anxious than she was before.

A zombie was probably the most accurate description of Y/n’s state when she finally emerged from her room several hours later. She stared into space across the breakfast table, lazily dipping her croissant into her jam and chewed similarly to that of a camel. Isla eyed her sister warily, looking over at Natasha for help. But Natasha only shook her head, telling her to leave her be.

But what was Isla if not nosy? She basically skipped along the hallway to her sister’s room sometime after lunch, letting herself and heading straight for the bed. Y/n barely had time to protest before she felt her mattress dip beside her and she tugged off her headphones with a scowl.

“Ever heard of knocking?”

“Nope!” Isla said with a smirk. “What’s the secret?”

Y/n pressed pause on her youtube video. “What secret?”

“The secret everyone else knows but me. I’m not leaving until you tell me.” To prove her point, Isla crossed her ankles and tucked her hands behind her head, leaning back on the neatly arranged pillows at the top of the bed. “I’m comfy so I can wait as long as you need.”

“There is no secret, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A moment of silence hung between the girls and Isla studied the ceiling, glow in the dark stars on the ceiling catching her attention. They’d lasted for years, except for the occasional one that would fall off in the middle of the night and hit Y/n in the face.

“So then it’s nothing to do with you and Maria pining over each other but neither of you actually doing anything about it?”

Y/n’s eyes went wide and she turned over her shoulder, jaw dropping on shock. “What did you just say?”

“Are you seriously that blind? I thought I was the only one who needed glasses. Clearly not.” Isla opened her eyes and looked at her sister, stifling a laugh as she caught sight of her face. “You didn’t know, did you?”

“What? I don’t-“

“Then my work here is done.” Isla scrambled off the bed and ran down the stairs, trying to escape her sister who yelled after her, hot on her heels. “Mom save me!” She cried, sliding across the kitchen tiles in her socks, grabbing onto a chair so she didn’t slip over. Wanda froze with her hands in the air, taken completely by surprise at the sudden intrusion.

“Isla Marie, get back here!” Y/n yelled, appearing on the other side of the table as her sister. Wanda and Natasha were caught slap bang in the middle of this stand off, looking up from their computers as Y/n narrowed her eyes at her twin sister who was grinning her head off.

Western music should have started playing, but instead the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house, breaking Y/n out of her trance.

“I think you should get it,” Isla said with a knowing look in her eye. Natasha raised an eyebrow at Wanda who just shrugged, just as clueless. “Go on.”

Y/n glared at her but turned around all the same, wandering to the front door. Isla kept her distance but followed, loitering in the hallway behind her. A package delivery? Or a neighbour? They rarely had visitors on a Sunday.

But the figure at the door was less like their usual UPS delivery guy and more like the slightly form of Maria Hill. She smiled softly as Y/n opened the door, her head just peaking up over a large bouquet of red and white flowers.

The redhead froze with her hand on the door, eyes almost bulging out of her head. Her mind was filled with nothing but static, all words tumbling from grasp. Isla stood behind her with her arms folded as she leaned against the wall, a cocky smirk on her face. Sister of the year award sure went to her alright.

Wanda and Natasha had come to investigate the mystery visitor but were stopped by Isla’s arm. The three redheads watched from afar, Wanda pouting from how adorable the scene before them was.

“Hi,” Maria started, breaking the slightly awkward silence as she shifted the flowers in her arm. “You look really pretty.”

Y/n’s outfit was nothing spectacular; it was sunday after all. She’d just opted for some loose cream lounge pants and a dark green crop top, but the winter sun had caught her hair and eyes, making the vibrant red and green pop even more. But Y/n could wear a trash bag and Maria would still think she was the most beautiful girl in the world.

“Thank you,” Y/n was slightly hesitant fuelled by her utter confusion. What was happening? “You do too.”

“Y/n, look,” Maria began, suddenly feeling the overwhelming urge to get everything off her chest. “I can’t wait around anymore. I don’t know how else to say this except saying it outright, but I like you. I really like you. And not just in a ‘you’re my best friend’ way, but in a way I can’t even describe. I adore everything that you do, the way you never fail to make other people laugh and the way your heart is so kind and caring to those around you. I love the way you listen so intently and remember the smallest details. The way you never fail to make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world whenever we are together.”

Y/n was stunned at the words falling from her best friend’s lips. She was so overwhelmed that she didn’t notice the tears building up in her eyes as she listened, her lip trembling slightly. It was like a weight lifted off her chest, the stress of yesterday washing away with every word that Maria spoke.

“Clint made me realise that I can’t spend another day hiding the way I feel about you. I’m scared about losing what we have, but to me you’re worth taking that risk. I lost you to Bucky, and now I have you back I’ve realised I don’t ever want to lose you again. So please Y/n, will you be my date to the formal, and beyond that?”

Maria was slightly breathless as she finished her speech, her brain only just catching up with what she’d said. She poured her heart out, unable to stick to the mental script she’d planned in the car on the way over. Just looking at Y/n made her mind freeze over and she felt how shaky her legs suddenly felt.

“Maria,” Y/n started, so overcome with emotion that the tears had started to roll down her cheeks. “Yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” The brunette let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and pushed the bouquet into Y/n’s arms with a relieved smile. “I was really scared.”

“Of what?”

“That you didn’t feel the same way I did. But now I know you do, and-“

Y/n was cut off by a pair of lips gently pressing themselves onto hers. It was a bold move, even Isla was taken by surprise, but Y/n quickly reciprocated before it ended. She was grinning like an idiot, yet still crying, her emotions all over the place.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Maria admitted and Y/n nodded, too choked up to speak but she so desperately wanted to agree. The young redhead had found herself dreaming about what it would be like to kiss her far too many times, but the real thing exceeded all of her expectations.

Y/n pulled her into a hug and held her tightly with her free arm, the other one holding her new favourite flowers out the way. She felt so relaxed, her body releasing all the tension of the past few weeks out in a single movement.

“Oh come on, I didn’t even get to do my trick!” A familiar voice whined as they hugged. Y/n let out a watery laugh as Maria gently wiped her tears and they turned around to see Clint with his bow and arrow beside a large covered up sign. “That’s not what we planned!”

“Sorry dude, my feelings got the better of me. But go ahead, why not.”

With a grumble, Clint stepped back and shot his arrow with perfect accuracy, watching as it sliced through the blank red paper and revealed the large, excessively glittery sign behind it. The paper didn’t split all the way so he scrambled over and quickly pulled the rest down, but the chaos just made Y/n laugh more. The lump in her throat didn’t subside but she welcomed the distraction.

“That was my initial way of asking you to the dance,” Maria admitted, gesturing to the large ‘Will You ‘Formal-ly Be My Girl’ sign now propped up on the front lawn. It was an adorable sign and Y/n nodded, even though she’d already agreed.

“Yes! Of course I will!” They both laughed and Maria pulled her in by the waist, careful not to crush the flowers as their lips met again. The sweetest, lightest kiss was exchanged, setting the butterflies in Y/n’s chest stampeding throughout her entire body. There was no way she was ever going to get used to that.

“About damn time!” Isla stepped forward and clapped, grinning widely.

“Did you know?” Y/n asked, looking between Maria and Isla. “You were involved?”

“Y/n, it was getting painful watching you two skirt around each other like that. And I know you, I saw the way you act when Maria would leave, almost as if there were thunderclouds around your head. Even if you hadn’t figured it out, the rest of us had.”

Y/n frowned. That was the second time everyone else had figured it out before she had. Was she really that unaware?

Natasha leaned into Wanda’s arms as they watched from the doorway, smiles breaking out across their faces as the almost sickly sweet young love in front of them. Y/n looked the happiest she had in months, barely able to take her eyes off Maria even as Isla chatted away. She was completely head over heels.

“Did we do this?” Natasha whispered to her wife. “Did we subconsciously make both our girls like women?”

Wanda laughed, pulling her closer into her side. “There was never any doubt with Isla, and Y/n took a little longer to come round. But I knew we’d never have a boy in the house.”

“Oh, you did?” Natasha asked with a smirk. “Confident?”

“Call it a mom instinct.”

#double the trouble au #natasha romanoff #fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat #wandanat x daughter!reader #wanda maximoff x daughter!reader #maria hill

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mviswidow · 2 years ago

Text

who you are is not where you've been

Blackhill x ex-hydra!daughter!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: After a triggering nightmare about R’s past, her mothers comfort her.

Contents: hurt/comfort, dark nightmare, talk of kidnapping, angst, fluff, Nat and Maria being amazing adopted mothers

From this request.

the title is a reference to taylor swift's innocent

You raced after your target as fast as your feet would carry you. The young girl reminded you of yourself when you’d first been brought to Hydra. She fought hard and was determined to get away from you, but it wasn’t long before you’d cornered her in an alleyway with a dead end.

Her cries for help made your ears ring, and you would have given anything for her to just shut up. You could feel guilt weighing heavily on your chest. It was crushing. You were about to confine this little girl to a life of misery, just like your own.

Your body felt like it was on fire, every instinct you had was telling you to turn around and leave her there, to let her go, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. You pointed your gun at her as you dialed a number on a burner phone, giving the person on the other end your location.

The poor girl cried with all her might, tears streaming down her face. You felt like you were going to be sick. You wished she’d been able to get away from you somehow.

She shrank back until she was against the fence behind her just when you felt a hand on your arm. You kept the gun pointed at her steadily as you took a quick glance over your shoulder.

“You’ve done it again, great work.”

You woke from your nap with a start when you heard a beeping sound. Your chest was heaving. You looked around to check your surroundings and your breath started to even out upon realizing you were safe on the living room couch and your moms were in the kitchen making dinner. The microwave had just gone off.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Natasha came over when she saw that you’d sat up and were awake, running her fingers through your hair tenderly. “You knocked out at the end of the movie. How was your nap?”

“It was okay,” you nodded, avoiding her gaze. “I’m going to wash up before we eat.”

You needed to clear your head before you sat with them for dinner. There was no way they wouldn’t be able to tell something was up and the last thing you wanted to do was to put your problems on them.

Upon locking the door to the bathroom, your eyes began to tear up. You groaned quietly and pressed the heels of your hands to your shut eyes, willing yourself not to cry. You did your best to steady your breathing and stay quiet, but it wasn’t long before you were choking back sobs while sitting on the cold tile floor.

Your dreams were often plagued by the haunting memories of your past, being controlled by Hydra since your early childhood. You were horrified by what you were capable of. It pained you to think that you had subjected kids to being tormented and ruined their lives. They hadn’t done anything to deserve that. And it was often difficult to convince yourself that you deserved to live in the loving household that you now did, because how could you when many of the kids you’d been assigned to capture probably still worked for Hydra?

Your eyes shot open when you heard a quiet knock on the door. You bit down on one of your knuckles, trying to stifle the sob threatening to leave your throat.

“You alright, kiddo?” Maria’s voice sounded.

You didn’t say anything out of fear of embarrassing yourself, afraid of whatever noise would come out.

“Can I come in?”

She took the sound of the door unlocking as a ‘yes’ and opened it slowly, sitting down beside you.

“What’s wrong, hm?” she murmured, putting her strong arm around your shoulders.

You turned into her embrace, wrapping your arms around her waist as tightly as you could while your body racked with sobs.

Maria held you close and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m right here, sweetheart.”

Natasha’s footsteps went unheard but she made herself known when she put a gentle hand on your back, doing her best to help soothe you.

Your tears fell freely, but the presence of your mothers was beginning to make you feel better. You were getting ahold of your breathing, matching yours to Maria’s.

Once you were calmer, you moved yourself to sit up with your back to the wall and Natasha was now in front of you, tutting when she saw your tear-stained face and your nose red from crying, “What’s got you so upset, honey?” she asked as she leaned forward to wipe your tears away with her thumbs.

You took a couple of breaths before attempting to respond to her, and while you did so, you realized not many people would be able to understand your feelings the way she might.

“How did… how did you forgive yourself?” Your voice broke as you spoke, fresh tears beginning to fall. “After everything I’ve done,” you shook your head. “I don’t deserve - I can’t - I’m a monster -”

“No, hey,” Natasha took your hand in hers before speaking softly, “You’re working yourself up again. Please don’t talk like that.”

You put your head down and pinched the bridge of your nose as Natasha sat in shock for a couple of seconds, surprised by your question.

It wasn’t often that the Black Widow cried, but as she saw you in your distress, reminding her so much of herself, she couldn’t help it when her eyes started watering.

She looked to her wife for a moment, and when their eyes met, it was clear they were thinking the same thing. Maria could not count the number of times she’d heard Natasha describe herself as a monster.

There were many nights Maria had held Natasha as she cried, feeling like she could never make up for everything she had done. She still felt that way sometimes. Like nothing could be enough for all the lives she’d taken or destroyed.

But you? You might be enough. Natasha felt more sure of that every day. The love she had for you consumed her. It came with an innate need to protect you. Getting to love you felt like healing from her past, something she once never thought she’d feel.

You had a long emotional journey ahead of you in order to come to terms with the reality, which was that you were a victim of circumstance, just like Natasha was. Neither of you asked for the hand of cards you were dealt, but you had to play them.

“Why don’t we go to the couch and talk about this there? Let’s get you off the floor,” the redhead suggested, helping you up.

As you made your way to the couch with Natasha, Maria went to the fridge and brought you water, which you took gratefully.

You sat between your mothers, busying yourself by fidgeting with the edges of the blanket, not feeling too inclined to look at them while you felt so vulnerable, preparing yourself to start speaking. “I have a lot of dreams about my time being controlled by Hydra, some can be really bad.”

Your mind raced as you mulled over how much you were going to tell them. You hadn’t spoken very much about what happened to you while you were being controlled by Hydra. You figured they knew enough from reading your file and Natasha being there when you were taken into custody by SHIELD.

Still, there was a lot you didn’t want them to know. You were ashamed of yourself and terrified that they may not look at you the same way after they knew what you’d decided to tell them.

“I was mostly assigned to kidnappings for Hydra,” A lump grew in your throat as you spoke. “I was having a nightmare about this one girl named Marcy, she was the youngest target I ever had. She was also the last.” You could feel the anxiety you were having in every part of your body. You weren’t sure what you expected them to say but the longer they said nothing the more anxious you became.

“You aren’t going to start forgiving yourself until you’re able to acknowledge that what happened was not all your fault,” Natasha finally said, which made your brow furrow.

When you didn’t say anything, she continued, “You know you didn’t do any of the things you did because of your own volition. Hydra was using a formula very similar to the one the Red Room utilized. You weren’t able to make any decisions yourself. Until you’re able to let up on yourself and come to accept this, you won't be forgiving yourself anytime soon.”

You stayed silent for a couple of seconds before nodding, “I’ve never not blamed myself.”

Natasha offered a soft smile, “I know how that feels. It took me a very long time to get to where I am now. And a lot of help from Maria.”

“And you have both of us every step of the way,” Maria chimed in.

Your eyes watered as the corners of your lips turned up, “Thank you. I love you guys so much.”

Natasha pulled you in for a hug and it seemed like she needed it almost as much as you did, “We love you too. More than you know.”

When you pulled away you turned and hugged Maria, “Thanks for finding me.”

The brunette shrugged with a soft smile, “Of course. But next time why don’t you let us know when something’s bothering you? You scared us there.”

“I’ll try my best. I’m still getting used to the whole asking for help thing. I’m sorry.”

“Ehh, that’s alright. We both know what it’s like to be a little emotionally stunted,” Maria snickered.

Natasha rolled her eyes and playfully kicked Maria’s shin, pretending to be annoyed by her comment as you laughed.

Everything was going to be okay.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #maria hill #maria hill x reader #black widow #mcu #cobie smulders #marvel #scarlett johansson #blackhill #blackhill x reader #blackhill x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff x maria hill #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #maria hill x daughter!reader #teen!daughter!reader

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griffin-girl-r · 1 year ago

Note

Blackhill requests you say? Dw I got you covered!

Natasha and Maria are both happily married with an 8 year old daughter (r) when r’s dad enters the picture (r was conceived in the red room so he’s a bad guy who Nat had a one night stand with at some point idk)

She's mine

Created: 11.11.2023

Finished: 16.11.2023

Edited: 17.11.2023

Age: 8

Word count: 2,935

Warnings: Homophobia , Mentions of sexual assult , Abandonment , Misogyny

Anymore let me know

Request: Yes (Tumblr user) (@ravensinthedaylight)

Pairings: BlackHill, Natasha Romanoff x Lev Ilyin (Original!Evil!Character) (Past mention)

—

Natasha and Maria were quietly sitting on the couch in their living room, snuggled closer to each other as their 8-year-old daughter, Y/N, was sandwiched in between the two women.

'Lilo and Stitch', Y/N's favorite movie was playing on the TV and their little girl was absolutely fascinated about everything that was happening in it as if she wasn't seeing this movie for the millionth time.

Natasha had to buy 40 new DVDs with the movie, in the last 7 years since its release, because Y/N watched them so often that they quickly got scratched and, therefore, almost useless.

Natasha could only blame her wife for introducing their daughter to this movie.

Now, truth be told, Maria wasn't actually the other biological parent of Y/N.

Years ago, when Natasha was still a young mere prisoner of her own life, she was forced by the organization that had taken care of her training to have intimate relationships with a man she didn't even know.

More of like, being offered against her own will by the Red Room to one of their men but that is all in the past.

She was ready to keep living with everything that happened to her as long as the only good thing that came out of everything, her daughter, was by her side.

A knock at the front door interrupted Y/N's innocent giggles and the little family looked confused towards the door.

Who could be at the door at this late hour?

"I'm coming!" Maria shouted, carefully moving Y/N's sleepy body, who was using Maria as a pillow, away

"I'll get it." Natasha quickly placed her hand on Maria's arm, stopping her

Maria looked at Natasha for a second and the agent wanted to protest but the reassuring smile the redhead was wearing was too tempting.

"As you wish, my love." Maria smiled back

"I'll be quick." Natasha quickly peaked her wife's lips, then stood up, making her way towards the front door

—

Natasha opened the front door, unaware of the darkness that was lurking just on the other side of it.

A sickening smirk formed on the face of the man who was standing just in front of the red-headed woman.

"Hello, Natalia." He said "Long time no see. Did you miss me?"

Natasha froze in place for a moment as she took in the sight of the man she never thought she would see again.

Memories of a long-forgotten time had resurfaced in her mind.

She shook her head "No..." Natasha whispered "What are you doing here?"

"Well, you know..." The man began "I came to take back what's mine."

Natasha looked at the man, her eyes widening in shock.

"You are not going to take my daughter away from me!" She protectively declared

"Our daughter, my darling." The man corrected her "Oh, and what makes you think that I'm here just for our daughter?" He chuckled "I am here for you as well, Natalia. You are mine just as much as our daughter is." He stated as a matter of factly "How is she, by the way?"

The man took a step forward, walking uninvited inside Natasha's home, and looked around.

"I bet she grew up a lot in the time I haven't seen her." He added when Natasha hesitated to answer his question

"Leave her alone, Lev." Natasha raised her voice "She's innocent. She doesn't have anything to do with all this madness. I thought you were busy planning the world's dominance. How come you have come for us after all this time? How come that HYDRA let you leave their safe prison."

"How?" Lev chuckled "I was never a prisoner at HYDRA, to begin with, unlike you. I am one of their highest-ranked agents. Why do you think they offered you to me out of all people?" He explained "Now I am here to claim what's mine. And this time, neither you nor our little girl will run away. I will find you anywhere."

Anger raised inside of Natasha just as much as fear built inside her.

She couldn't believe her eyes. She couldn't believe that after all this time, the man who hurt her and took advantage of her body was here to claim something he never took part in.

More specifically, in the raising of Y/N, which he had no right over.

"Just leave us alone." Natasha shouted

"You wish!" Lev laughed sadistically

From inside the living room, Maria's ears picked up on the raising tone of her wife's voice, and her instincts kicked in, telling her to go and check what was happening.

"Stay here, baby." Maria kissed your head "Mom is gonna go and quickly check if Mama is okay out there and see who is at the door."

"Okay, Mom." You replied distracted as your attention was fully focused on the movie

Maria stood up and with one last ruffle of your hair, she made her way towards the front door.

"Honey?" Maria called Natasha confused, as she took in the sight of the unknown man sitting in front of her wife "Are you okay? Who's is he?" She pointed to the man "Were you expecting someone?"

"So this is that so-called wife of yours I've heard about." The man smiled "Well it's nice to meet my replacement but we have to leave, Natalia."

Maria looked confused between Natasha and the man for a second.

"What do you mean you have to leave?" Maria asked "Babe?" She turned her head towards Natasha, waiting for her answer

Natasha looked up from the floor, directly into Maria's eyes and the brunette could see the tears that were present in her wife's eyes, causing Maria's instincts to heighten immediately as a surge of protectiveness overflowed her senses.

When Natasha begged Maria to help her just with one look, Maria pushed Natasha behind her with a swift move.

"I don't know who you are." Maria said, her muscles tensing "But I'll have to ask you to leave. Nicely." Se ordered the man through gritted teeth

"You have no right to tell me to leave." The man laughed "I am here to claim what's mine and you, weak woman, will never be able to make me leave."

Just then, Maria's brain clicked on what was happening and she understood who the man that was standing in front of her was.

"You monster." Maria whispered angrily "I know exactly who you are."

"Well..." The man raised his arms, proud of who he was "It took you some time to figure that out." He sang "I expected you to be smarter than this."

"This is the last time I am asking you nicely to leave this house. That unless you want to have some serious problems." Maria said once again

"Oh, come on." The man chuckled sarcastically "You don't expect me to be afraid of a woman and especially of you, don't you?"

"Well, I wouldn't say the same thing if I were you." Maria tilted her head "I am ready to do anything to protect my family."

"Your family?!" The man shouted "They're mine! I am going to take my belongings and leave."

"They are staying here." Maria protested "You don't even know how my daughter is named, let alone have any right over her. I raised her ever since she was a five-month-old baby. I was the one who changed her diapers, checked for any monsters under her bed, and loved her, not you." She hissed "And the same goes for my wife. She's mine for a reason."

From the corner of her eye, Maria saw some movement right behind her, and she saw the man's smirk growing wider.

"Aha, my sweet girl!" The man cheerfully exclaimed "I finally came home. Are you excited to see me?"

Y/N silently peeked at the man from behind her moms.

"Mama?" You called shyly "Who's that?" You pointed towards the man

"No one, baby." Natasha quickly tried to make you leave "Just go back to the movie, okay? Me and Mom will be there very soon."

"Mom?" Lev raised his eyebrow "There is no such thing as another mom. I am your other parent, sweetheart." The man tried to tempt you in a sweet tone "I came here so you could have a normal family. I am your Dad." He declared

"Dad?" You asked confused, looking up towards Natasha "I have no dad. I have Mama and Mom. I already have two parents."

"Well, your parents must be a mom and a dad, not two moms." Lev tried to turn you against your mothers

"But, I love my moms." You innocently declared "They love me and we're always having fun. And Mom always carries me on her shoulders and buys me ice cream, while Mama reads me bedtime stories and gives me the best hugs in the world."

But just before you got to finish your sentence, the man snatched you away by your arm and forcefully held you in place.

You let out a terrified scream as tears quickly made their way down your cheeks.

"Mama!" You screamed out in fear, begging Natasha to help you

"Leave her alone!" Natasha screamed as she tried to grab you back from the men, but she didn't manage to "My baby!"

"Leave my child alone!" Maria threatened "That's my daughter you're holding there. You just don't get it."

"These two girls are mine! And she's coming with me." He pointed towards you

"She's mine!" Maria shouted as she grabbed your other arm quickly and pulled you towards her with all her force, causing the man to loosen his grip on you "They are both mine!" Maria declared as she quickly shoved you behind her to shield you from anything, just as she has done with Natasha "I don't know what's the reason behind your actions and what your evil plan is, but you must leave right now!"

Lev, in a fraction of a second, lifted his arm and punched Maria in the face.

Natasha let out a horrified gasp, her hands instinctively flying to her mouth to cover it in order to muffle any sound.

"Mom!" You screamed, afraid that your mom was badly hurt

"It's okay, kid. Mom is okay." Maria reassured you as she looked towards the man "So, you want to fight?" She nodded, taking a deep breath "Alright then, that's what you'll get."

And just like that, Maria delivered a punch back towards the man and a fight started.

Natasha wanted to help her wife, but she also knew that you needed protection and reassurance as she took two steps backward, shielding you with her body.

Kicks and punches were thrown around from both sides and just as the fight was getting more violent, a blowing sound was heard and the door of their house was slammed open.

"S.H.I.E.L.D., get down!" A deep voice shouted as agents armed with weapons burst inside their home

—

"This won't end like this!" Lev shouted as he tried to fight his restraints, just as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s agents escorted him away

"We'll see about that, Lev Ilyin!" Maria shouted behind him before she quickly turned her attention back to her wife and daughter "You're okay." She said in a rushed but reassuring voice "Everything is okay now, my sweethearts." The brunette woman pulled you and your mama in her arms "No one's ever gonna be able to take you away from me, I'm here and I will always protect you, you both are mine and no one else's."

Your small whimpers broke both Maria and Natasha's hearts.

Natasha held you tightly in her arms "It's okay, baby, it's okay. You're okay." Natasha kissed the top of your head and you hid your face in her stomach

Your cries slowly turned into quiet sniffs as you basked in the protection you felt from both your mothers as Maria protectively held you and Natasha closer to her.

"You're both okay." Maria whispered "We're all okay."

Natasha raised her head and looked at her wife's face, a gasp escaping the redhead's lips.

"Masha, you're hurt!" Natasha worriedly looked at Maria's bruised face and raised her hand to touch her wife's cheek

Maria tenderly grabbed Natasha's hand, stopping her from touching her cheek.

"It's okay, my love." Maria reassured "It's nothing. I just need a little bit of care from you and our little princess and I'll be all healed in no time."

"I'm sorry." Natasha whispered on the verge of crying "I never expected to see him again."

"None of that!" Maria sternly declared "You have no fault in this. Okay?"

"But Maria..." Natasha began before sighing when she saw the look on Maria's face and the spy changed the subject "How did the agents show up just on time?"

"Well, I kind of activated the alarm I have on my bracelet and they were alerted when I realized who Lev was." Maria shrugged her shoulders as if it wasn't such a big deal

"You sneaky agent." Natasha chuckled, a gleam of proudness shining in her eyes

"Well, what can I say?" Maria tried to sniffle her laughter "I am prepared for any situation."

But just as they hugged again, the sweet moment of the small family of three was interrupted by Nick Fury, who walked inside the room holding a file in his hand.

"Agent Hill. Agent Romanoff." He nodded, greeting the women "I want to thank you for catching one of the most wanted criminals on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s list.

"Well, you know..." Maria turned annoyed towards Fury, angry that he disturbed their moment "He kind of messed up with my family. I had to do something about it."

"As a thanks, I have a very special mission for you both." Fury stated "I need your help and you have just proven to me that you're both fit for this mission."

Natasha sighed, rolling her eyes "I knew there was something about you showing up here, Nick, not just because of Lev Ilyin."

"You know me, Agent Romanoff." He stated unimpressed, extending his hand towards them, offering them the file "Ilyin is just another trophy to our collection."

The couple grabbed the file from his hand and Natasha opened it, looking at the name of their next target that was written on the first page with big, bold letters.

"Tony Stark?" Maria asked confused "Isn't he that annoying, reckless man who thinks he's smart just because he has money and who wears sunglasses at parties that take place at night?"

"You couldn't have described Stark better, Agent Hill." Fury nodded "That's why I need Agent Romanoff to infiltrate inside his company. You have all the information there. You're getting a new alias and your mission is to protect him as danger is too close to him right now. We need to take action or the next events will have a turn for the worst if we don't intervene in this." He explained before adding "For the whole globe, not just for Stark."

"Consider it done." Natasha nodded, accepting the mission

"I promise you both, you won't regret helping with this mission." Fury looked in between the two women

"We hope we won't, Sir." Maria squinted her eyes

And just like that, Fury turned around and left without adding any other word.

Maria peeked at the page where all the details about Natasha's new identity were and quickly scanned the page with her eyes, reading the important details.

"Well, I see he didn't think too much about a new name." Maria said teasingly "Come on! Natalie Rushman? He could do better than that. And you were supposed to be a model?" She chuckled "No way!"

"Oh, shut up." Natasha playfully smacked Maria's arm "Let's just leave the mission for another time, okay? I have enough time later to study this role."

"All right, Miss Rushman." Maria laughed, wrapping her arms around Natasha's shoulders while taking a gentle hold of Y/N's small hand "I think we had a movie to watch."

"Stitch!" You cheered excitedly

"Yeah, baby, Stitch!" Natasha lovingly smiled down at you as you all made your way back to the living room

—

That night, Maria lay awake in the bed she and her wife shared.

Natasha and their daughter were sound asleep as today's events drained them out of energy.

The brunette agent turned on her side with a sigh and scanned the faces of her two loves in the darkness.

"No one will ever be able to take you away from me." Maria whispered "I promise you both that we will forever be a family regardless of our past or of what other people might think about us."

Maria slowly leaned closer and kissed your cheek.

"You're so loved, Y/N." The brunette whispered in your ear "And so are you, Tasha." She also pressed a gentle kiss against Natasha's cheek "You're my blessings and I'm the luckiest woman in the world to have you both."

What happened today, helped not only Natasha and Maria, but also you, to realize how lucky you were to have each other and on how much love your small family was actually built on.

Maria vowed to fight until her last breath, just so she could keep you and Natasha safe, as her love for her girls knew no bounds.

And just as Stitch has said.

'Ohana means family. Family means no one gets left behind or forgotten.'

And a true family is built on love, not blood.

—

Permanent taglist: @lizlil , @mmmmokdok , @natsxwife , @lovelyy-moonlight , @observeowl , @froufrousnowman , @youralphawolf72 , @halstead-severide-fan , @daggersquadphantom , @circe143 , @ravensinthedaylight , @darkstar225 , @dannipotatoo , @justarandomreaderxoxo , @theunchosenonee , @cherlenovix

#mama nat #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha x daughter!reader #natasha's child #natasha's kid #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #natasha x teen reader #natasha x baby!reader #blackhill #maria hill x daughter #maria hill x daughter!reader #maria hill

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wandasreallover · 4 months ago

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In sickness and in health(mother figure!wanda)

Warnings: addiction, major character death, depression, angst/comfort, brief maria hill x reader, extremely self indulgant

Summary: wanda drags you back from the point of no return but its up to you to heal, wanda can help you all she wants but ultimately the decision is up to you will you give in to temptation?

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The rain drummed softly on the roof, its percussion a gentle cover to the somber air weaving through the old house. Wanda stood in the kitchen, fidgeting with a chipped porcelain mug, her heart heavy with worry. Every tick of the clock felt like an eternity. She had learned the art of patience over the years, but waiting for someone she cared about to return home was much harder than keeping a garden alive.

When the door creaked open, a chill drifted in with the wind, followed by an unmistakable air of guilt. Wanda turned, a flood of emotions spilling into her chest as she saw [Y/N] step inside. The girl was very much a woman now, but there was something heartbreakingly fragile in her gaze-like glass teetering on the edge of a table, ready to shatter at any moment.

[Y/N] stood there, drenched from the rain, her jeans torn and her T-shirt loosely hanging from her shoulders. There were dark circles beneath her eyes that hinted at sleepless nights. The confidence she often masqueraded in seemed stripped away, leaving only raw vulnerability. Wanda took a deep breath, unsure of what to say.

"Where have you been?" she finally asked, her voice gentle but firm, echoing with a protective undertone.

"I... I needed some time," [Y/N] replied, her words heavy, filled with the burden of unspoken truth.

Wanda stepped closer, hands outstretched in a familiar, comforting gesture. "You know you don't have to hide from me. Whatever's going on, we can face together."

A bitter laugh escaped [Y/N]'s lips, and she shook her head, creating a fragile dismissal. "You don't understand, Wanda. I'm fine."

"Fine? You were gone for days," Wanda pressed, her concern pulse racing alongside the rapidly fading daylight. "19 but you act like an adult?, like you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. No one should have to bear that alone."

[Y/N] averted her eyes, staring at the floor, where dark splotches betrayed the rain-soaked entries of her shoes. "I'm tired, Wanda. Just really tired."

The familiar warmth surged through Wanda, a mix of compassion and sorrow. "Tired of what, sweetheart? You don't have to pretend to be strong around me."

"I... It's hard to explain." [Y/N]'s voice was barely a whisper now. "I wish I didn't feel like this, but it's all-consuming."

As silence fell between them, Wanda stepped forward, braving the space that had grown too vast, too filled with shadows and dripping secrets. "You don't have to carry this burden alone, [Y/N]. It's okay to lean on someone. I'll be here-always."

"But what if I slip?" [Y/N] burst out, emotion clawing at her throat. "What if I fall back into... my old habits? I hate it, Wanda. I hate needing it. I hate that I let it control me."

Wanda gently lifted [Y/N]'s chin, bringing their eyes level. "And that's the first step, acknowledging your struggle. It's okay to fall, but it's also okay to rise again."

For a moment, [Y/N] hardened, a fierce pride flashing in her eyes. But then, just as quickly, the façade crumbled, and she stepped into the comforting embrace of Wanda's arms. There, enveloped in warmth, the dam broke.

"I'm scared," [Y/N] mumbled against Wanda's shoulder, tears soaking the fabric of her shirt. "I was doing so well, but then... I don't know. I felt so lost. All this pressure to be someone I'm not... it made me run."

Wanda held her tighter, the rhythmic thrum of regret rattling beneath each heartbeat. "You're not alone. You've fought a hard battle and you don't have to do it on your own anymore. I'm proud of you for coming back and facing this."

[Y/N] drew back slightly, searching Wanda's eyes for the truth she so desperately craved. "I don't want to be broken. I don't want to be a problem."

"You're not broken." Wanda's voice was steady, filled with the kind of love that only a maternal figure could evoke. "You're human. You're allowed to feel weak, you're allowed to ask for help. You're allowed to be vulnerable."

It was then [Y/N] understood that all the years of independence she had chased-being the adult in the room, keeping her head above water-had only led her deeper into isolation. She longed for guidance, for love, for the comfort of acknowledging her darkness without fear of judgment.

"I wish I could just stop," [Y/N] finally admitted, a tremor in her voice. "I wish I could erase the bad parts of me."

"You can't erase who you are, but you can choose lighter paths ahead." Wanda placed her hands on [Y/N]'s shoulders, grounding her with a gaze that could anchor even the most tumultuous of storms. "Let's take it one step at a time. I'm right here with you."

Tears continued to streak down [Y/N]'s cheeks, but a flicker of hope stirred in her heart. "Will you help me? Will you stay?"

"Always," Wanda promised. "You deserve to be free from the shadows that haunt you. We can find that light together, I swear."

As [Y/N] clung to Wanda, hope began to weave its way back into her life. It would be a long journey ahead, filled with challenges and discomfort, but for the first time in a long time, she felt a shift. She wasn't alone anymore.

Ofcourse she couldn't just accept this good thing like a normal person that was impossible. Her mind always to betray her. Despite wandas unwavering support [y/n] still felt as alone as ever. Which lead her to now, back exactly where she started.

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The room cloaked in darkness, save for the flickering candlelight casting shadows that danced on the walls. You sat on the floor, surrounded by remnants of your struggle-empty bottles, crumpled wrappers, and the echoes of your own despair. Each item told a story of promises broken and battles lost, and the weight of it all pressed down on your chest like a heavy stone.

Wanda had tried to help you, her gentle spirit always reaching out, always hopeful. She was a beacon of light in your tumultuous world, a mother figure who had taken you under her wing when you felt most lost. But despite her unyielding support, the darkness that enveloped you felt insurmountable.

You could still hear her voice as she had pleaded with you just days before. “Please, don’t do this to yourself. I can’t watch you hurt like this.” The concern in her eyes had cut deeper than any words could. You could see the worry etched on her face, the way her brows knitted together in anguish as she tried to pull you back from the edge.

But you were trapped in your own mind, a prisoner of addiction that you couldn’t escape. You wished you could be stronger, that you could fight the cravings and the pain, but every time you thought you had a handle on it, the darkness would creep back in, dragging you under once more.

As you sat there, tears streaming down your cheeks, you picked up your phone, scrolling through your messages. There were countless texts from Wanda, each one filled with concern and love. But there were also unanswered calls, the silence between you growing like a chasm that felt impossible to bridge. You couldn’t face her—not like this.

You thought of how much you wanted to be the person she believed you could be, the person who could stand tall and proud, free from the chains of addiction. But each time you tried, the weight of your reality pulled you back down. The more you sit here the more you felt guilty wanda truely believed in your recovery, she invested her time and her heart into helping you get better but once again you've proved that your beyond help.

Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening broke the silence, and your heart raced. You quickly wiped your tears, attempting to hide the chaos around you. But it was too late. Wanda stepped into the living room, her eyes widening as she took in the scene before her.

“Oh, [Y/N],” she whispered, her voice breaking. She rushed over, kneeling beside you, her hands trembling as they reached out to touch your arm. “What have you done?”

You couldn’t meet her gaze, shame flooding your senses. “I’m sorry,” you managed to choke out, the words barely escaping your lips. “I didn’t mean to… I just… It’s too hard.”

Wanda’s expression softened at your admission, tears pooling in her eyes. “I know it’s hard, but you don’t have to do this alone. I’m here for you. Please let me help you.”

But you shook your head, the pit in your stomach growing deeper. “I’m too far gone, Wanda. I don’t know if I can come back from this.”

Her hands tightened around your arms, her grip firm yet gentle. “You’re not gone. You’re right here, and I refuse to give up on you. I love you too much to let you slip away.”

Those words cut through the fog of despair, piercing your heart with a mix of longing and sadness. You wanted to believe her, to trust that there was a way out of the darkness, but the fear of failing her again loomed large.

“I wish I could be different,” you whispered, the weight of your emotions crashing over you like a tidal wave. “I wish I could be sober.”

Wanda’s eyes sparkled with tears as she pulled you into a tight embrace, her warmth enveloping you like a cocoon. “You can be. It won’t be easy, but I’ll be right here with you every step of the way. We’ll face this together.”

As you cried into her shoulder, you felt a flicker of hope ignite within you, a small flame that dared to believe in the possibility of healing. You could hear her heartbeat, steady and reassuring, a reminder that you were not alone in this battle.

In that moment, surrounded by the remnants of your struggle and the unwavering love of the woman who had become your anchor, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way back to yourself. It would take time, patience, and a lot of courage, but with Wanda by your side, the fight felt a little less daunting. Well until the next relapse that is because its only a matter of time right?

That was six years ago and i have been sober every day since and i put it all down to wanda the woman whom i owe my entire life as she as dragged me to this moment. Stood in front of the mirror, my heart racing as I adjusted my veil for the third—or was it the fourth—time. The dress fit like a dream, a delicate blend of lace and satin that whispered promises of love. It was the day I had dreamed about for as long as I could remember—my wedding day. Yet, the tingle of excitement was mixed with a bittersweet ache in my heart.

The room was filled with soft sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow over the collection of flowers and jumbled accessories that had been thoughtfully arranged. Laughter floated in from the hallway, a joyous cacophony as my friends busily prepared for the ceremony. I could hear nats’s infectious giggle and clints’s teasing comments. They were trying to distract me from the swirling thoughts in my head, but one person’s absence felt enormous.

Wanda.

In those moments of reflection, I couldn't help but think about everything that had led me to this moment. Wanda Maximoff, the woman who had become more than just a mentor or a friend. She had filled the void left long ago—taught me the meaning of family, love, and sacrifice. We had faced our greatest challenges together, and she had always believed in me even when I doubted myself.

My fingers absentmindedly traced the locket around my neck, a gift from Wanda. Inside, it held a picture of us two years ago, laughing after a long day of training. “To remember the journey,” she had said with a smile. I couldn’t shake the thought of her not being here, not as a participant but as the mother I had always needed.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and my best friend Mia rushed in, her expression a mixture of excitement and concern. “Okay, deep breaths! You can’t have a wedding without the bride!” She fluffed the layers of my dress with a flourish, then paused. “You okay?”

I forced a smile, but Mia saw through it. “You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”

I nodded, my throat tightening. “It’s just… I wish Wanda could be here today. I feel like she’s missing all the important moments.”

Mia clasped my shoulders, her eyes shimmering with empathy. “She’s here, in spirit. You know how she is—she’ll be watching over you. I remember how proud she was when you found your true love—she could light up a room just talking about you.”

Warmth spread through me at the thought. Yes, Wanda would be here, clad in her vibrant red and ready to cheer me on in her own way. She had always said love was the strongest force in the universe, a bond that couldn’t be broken even by distance.

The sound of the faintest melody wafted through the open window—our family and friends were gathering, their voices a reassuring presence as I prepared to walk down the aisle. My heart swelled as the realization hit me: I didn’t have to walk this path alone. I carried the love and wisdom that Wanda had instilled in me. She had taught me strength, resilience, and the beauty of vulnerability.

“Let’s do this!” Mia cheered, breaking my reverie and pulling me toward the door.

As we stepped into the soft sunlight, the world felt covered in a golden hue. The garden where the ceremony was to take place was adorned with rustic wooden arches draped in flowers. Guests mingled, their faces bright with joy, as they turned their attention to me. Everything shimmered with love, but there was still an empty space meant for Wanda.

When I reached the altar, my heart raced again, but not with trepidation. My eyes fell on mara standing beneath a floral arch, her gaze warm and reassuring. She was everything I had dreamed of: kind, loving, and unwavering. Her smile ignited a rush of memories; the way Wanda had looked at me when I first introduced them, her approving nod full of warmth—and that overwhelming sense of love.

As the officiant began her speech, I looked around at everyone I cherished. Everyone was here, united not just for us but by the threads of stories that connected each person standing before me. I closed my eyes for a moment, visualization flooding my mind: Wanda smiling, her hair catching the sunlight, her laughter ringing in the air.

And then I felt a gentle warmth enveloping me—a sudden rush of love and clarity, as if Wanda was saying, "You’ve got this, my dear." I opened my eyes, confidence coursing through me. I was not just a reflection of her love; I was also a testament to her teachings and strength.

The moment I stepped closer to Maria we exchanged knowing glances. Our connection felt electric, like we were standing at the climax of our shared story; one that would continue to evolve, but never alone.

Each vow I exchanged with her felt as if it were woven from the fabric of my journey alongside Wanda. “To love and to cherish, through all challenges,” echoed through the air, and I could visualize her proud smile, her joy root-like deep within my heart.

As I said “I do,” I couldn’t help but glance over at the empty seat next to my parents. I imagined Wanda seated there, tearing up—she had always been the one to wear her heart on her sleeve. Amidst the bliss, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the one who had guided me to this point.

The moment the officiant pronounced us married, applause erupted, loud and warm. My heart leaped; I was married to my true love, standing among those who mattered most. Yet it was incomplete without Wanda, the strong, fearless woman who had fostered my spirit and bravery.

As the festivities truly began, I made my way through joyful faces, laughing and dancing, all the while feeling Wanda’s presence. It was as if she were dancing among them, sharing in the happiness around me. I could sense her whispering her blessings, urging me to embrace this new chapter with an open heart.

The night glimmered with happiness and laughter as stars began to twinkle overhead. Surrounded by loved ones, I basked in the love that was strong enough to bridge any divide.

Though she may not have been physically present, Wanda’s love wrapped around me like an embrace. I was home, and I was ready for the journey ahead, eternally grateful for the mother figure who had carved a path for me to follow—a path filled with love laughter, and a future yet to unfold.

#elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #mother!wanda maximoff #mother!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x daughter!reader #maria hill x reader

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theunchosenonee · 2 months ago

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fic request

tw: major !suicidal thoughts, self hate

I am not trying to attention seek or empathy seek, this is just to see if anyone feeling up to help, I am perfectly fine with getting nothing out of this post, it act as a vent post for me so it’s something to me neither way. you are not obliged to do anything in anyway this is just a last ditch effort for me to find some way to work this through.

I have always been suicidal sinces I was young, death it was never something that scares me, through out my life it was always up and down, sometimes those thoughts are strong, sometimes non existent. But recently it has been getting worse than it has ever been. I have always been pushed to do better, and that just recently got very overwhelming for me as my friend had won an award with basically zero experience at a activity while I had triple her experience but still have not won an award yet, I know how it sounds but for me it’s still hurts a lot, I felt like I could never be great in anyway. And my mom is not helpful in anyway possible. Natasha Romanoff and Maria Hill has always been comfort characters to me, they helped me through some of the toughest times, so I’m trying to see if this trick still work :), if there is any lovely fanfic writers out there that are comfortable and willing to write a Natasha Romanoff, Maria hill, Blackhill x daughter reader fic or any plantonic reader insert fic etc, preferably with the tws above (I’m acsexual) that would mean the absolute world to me, you guys are always so appreciated by me 🫶🫶

C xx

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #blackhill x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff x child!reader #maria hill x daughter!reader #maria hill x reader #maria hill #marvel #angst #hurt/comfort #blackhill #mommy issues #mental health

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moonlit-imagines · 1 year ago

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warnings: death ment

a/n:

not requested

You were dressed head to toe in black attire, seated in the front row, tucked into the corner to avoid any eyes on you. It was the seat your father would have taken if he were there, but—truth be told—this scene would not have been desirable for him. Most people were not on his side at the moment, and although you knew the truth, you couldn’t compromise your dignity at this moment. Not for him.

“I’d like to invite y/n Fury to say a few words.” Said the pastor at the podium, making your face feel hot and your legs feel weak. You hadn’t expected that one bit, but from the corner of your eye you saw Maria’s mother give you a warm smile, knowing she needed to hear what you had to say. You emerged from your solemn corner and walked before everyone, wondering what they thought of your name.

“Hello,” you cleared your throat, “hi, everyone. I’m y/n. I’ve known Maria almost my whole life and I…I can’t even find the words to describe her.” You nervously looked behind you at the closed casket. “She basically raised me in a way. Taught me how to survive, but also how to live. I owe a lot to her and I will never be able to forget…her.” You paused for many moments, still wondering who despised you because of the news of your father. “Life will never be the same after this loss. Never.”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @zoeyserpentluck // @wild-rose-35 // @ipurpleeyou // @nekoannie-chan // @punk-rock-raven // @evilcr0ne // @minxsblog // @v0idl1nq // @sydknee624 // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston //@multifandomfix // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @mymelodymia // @pheonixfire777 //

#maria hill #maria hill x reader #maria hill imagine #nick fury #nick fury x reader #nick fury imagine #nick fury x child!reader #nick fury x daughter!reader #nick fury x son!reader #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #avengers #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #secret invasion #secret invasion imagine #fury!reader

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thedarkestrivernymph · 2 months ago

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A Heart Of Gold pt.2

Y! Noble Child Nicholas x Mother! Maid! Reader x Y! Maid Maria x Y! Baron Charles

word count: roughly 10k

warnings: heavy angst, mentions of abuse (both physical and verbal), mentions of death, murder, violence, gore, blood, yandere tendencies/behaviour, weird relationship dynamics, anger issues, morally gray reader, child loss, mentions of alcohol addiction, domestic violence, breakdowns, morally grey yanderes, creepy behaviour, generational trauma, religious themes, reader in this is christian, cursing, not accurate depictions of history!

Author's note: Phew, this turned out a very different than the initial idea I had. haha Still, hope you enjoy it!

“God, let me repent in your name. Allow me to witness the beauty and grace of nature, to cry and scream and know of my faults and erase them in your name. Let me love my neighbours, like you loved me. I will do only good, I promise, just grant me my new golden heart. Please, I beg you, free me.”

The seasons shifted again.

They morphed into the other, faster than you could blink, quicker than you could run after them and plead to stay, swift and merciless.

Death was the same.

Breathing in ice particles for air, snow crunching under the weight of your boots, you made your way down-hill. The sun hadn't come out yet, not that she really planned to anyways in the middle of winter—but the villagers were hopeful, at least tried to be. But you weren't. You knew frost had crusted the earth and left only destruction in its wake. The others were simply to optimistic. A bunch of idiots really, thinking this winter could be different, that the nobles would care about you, at least somewhat more, after the new baron had taken over the lands.

A new head only meant one thing; trouble and higher pay. The already scarce crops which were salvaged would only serve to fill his pockets. If you commoners were mindless worker ants, then the nobility sure enough were bloodsucking mosquitos draining you all until nothing but dust remained of your crumbling bones.

Perhaps you wouldn't have had to worry about any of this—not about your frozen solid fingertips from the worn-down knitted gloves nor about the burning in the bottom of your stomach from the lack of anything edible, if you just had not married him.

At first he had seemed promising, a nice clean face, good salary, stern tone—he had been a baker for god's sake, what could go wrong!

Oh how naive you had been.

Before you knew, heavily pregnant with your second, his bakery was in ruins, all the customers avoiding his bakery specifically like the plague. At first you were confused—he was a good baker and kept everything neat. Then he came drunk the first time. Reeking of cheep booze, he completely blacked out on your shared martial bed—which at that time at least had possessed a bedframe. You were furious with him, after all you were an only child and your parents had carefully picked him out, because of his financial status and now here he was wasting his money on alcohol while his baby was growing in your womb.

You couldn't break free from him, even after the birth of his second child, even after the tradegy of your first. Your wings were clipped—you were married, you had duties, responsibilities, children. Running away would only bring pain and shame upon you and your whole family. You didn't even want to imagine what the villagers would do to you if they found you after fleeing. All the blame would be placed on you—you the cruel mother, the miserable daughter, the horrible wife. Much rather, you would pluck your own hair than experience any of such shaming.

But death was a constant threat. And one that terrified you at that. After having closed down his bakery, you had been forced into work, anything you could find, really, anything that paid. Yet even that seemed to have not been enough for the monster your husband unraveled to be—because soon enough his explosive episodes started. He would roar and cry, stagger from wall to wall in your shared home, pant like a beast as he hunted after you, just to reach for your hair, clutching it as if he wanted to rip it out for you, before—

You hissed, digging your blunt nails into your scarf, this was in the past, he no longer could terrify you so. Keeping your gaze on the road on the pearly white snow reaching up to your knees you remembered to breathe, to calm down. You needed a crystal clear head for the interview.

No matter how much you wanted to melt away like the snow under the sun’s rays—which never seemed to grace you—you couldn't. Your life meant something to others, if you weren't there anymore, if you would actually choose to travel with the wind and disappear, then you would allow that man victory. But you just could not after having managed to slip through his grasp and land an opportunity at a new life.

So you walked, pushed through, even as you grimaced from the odd sensation of needles pricking your toes—your shoes not suitable for the weather, because nothing would stop you from at least trying for a better life. A life without him.

The estate was huge.

And admittedly, you were frazzled on how you managed to even land this job in the first place. If it weren't for Aunt Jane, you probably would've never even laid eyes on something so majestic, dressed in soft brown, winged windows and with elaborate woodwork and sculptures; it was a mix of everything you could only ever hear tales about.

Not that you minded, you did resent the nobility and the royals with all their spendings as if they didn't bleed you and the others dry on a daily to finance their overindulgence that was slowly leading the empire to ruin. Or at least you imagined it to be so.

Nevertheless grandmother surely would've scolded you for being so cynical. The only other person besides your aunt that you had known to be humane and she was six feet under your childhood home’s apple tree.

You sighed, shaking your head. This wasn't the time to be sentimental. She was dead, for years now. And you had moved on, like everyone did. So brushing over your skirt for the last time, you stepped even closer to the gate. God, even the gate was twirly and whimsical; something one could only achieve through the hands of a master with years of experience—or so you imagined, you had no clue actually.

“You—you the new maid?” you flinched, eyes darting to meet the eyes of a gruff man, armor covering him.

You nodded, eyes fixed on his face—really the only feature bare to the sight of others, which did make you wonder if he wasn’t cold with nothing protecting his nose or throat. Bennet, your little boy, if he had stood here instead of him, he surely would’ve caught a cold by now.

“Come. I ain’t got all day woman.” the stranger’s voice was as harsh as sandpaper, which did make you wonder if they provided him with meals or water at all. Odd. Weren’t soldiers—also guards usually the most well-taken care of? But also what did you know, really.

So scurrying, with a soft sigh and enlarged eyes you stepped past him and immediately you felt so out of place.

Carrying scars of a past similar to that of a lot of commoner’s yet pushing through a gate meant only for the elite—it felt wrong, illegal even, as if you were committing a crime. You looked over your shoulder hastily, suddenly overcome with trepidation, with the image of being tackled and shackled by the very guard who let you in. What if he had mistaken you, accused you of trespassing, what if your aunt had messed things up and your children would be left motherless and—

“Just follow the cobblestones, then turn left.” he grumbled, and you calmed again. Seems he got lazy with you, sensing you were not a threat—see, you didn’t need to worry. You weren’t a criminal, like some others commoners vying for the riches the wealthy withheld, you were just here for a job you desperately needed, no one had ever been thrown into prison for this, right? At least you hoped so.

The freshly fallen snow crunched under your shoes again, the same ones you always wore—with a big hole under the left heel. If you had more of what others had, such as the lord (even if you still resented the aristocracy) you hopefully would be working for, then you wouldn’t have to worry about this, in fact then you wouldn’t need any of this—no begging, no pleading, no kneeling. You would be independent, no need to rely on your fool for a husband, you could just cut him out of your life, or cut him off. Shivering at the thought you pulled your scarf much tighter, clenching your hands around eachother.

Little did you know that all of this was the starting point for a life of sin your soul had sworn to repent from.

The interview had went well—as well as it could for your circumstances that is. They wanted you to live here, in the servant's quarters, and nothing you did could change the old woman's mind. That meant leaving your child in the hands of your Aunt Jane.

You loved your Aunt, she was truly a saint—albeit overly strict at times and very ignorant, but she was old, too old for your liking and could never emate the same warmth your grandmother had. Sometimes, in rare cases such as these, you did wish your own grandmother would crawl out of her grave and fix everything for you—like how she used to when you were a child, brewing you tea from pines during the cold winter months while telling you tales of all kinds. You wished that she now would stand in front of you, promising you that everything you were doing would benefit your darling and that he could truly flourish and live a life he deserved.

Because your sole reason in life was your child—your little pearl with his red runny nose, sniffling with each spoon-fed of his soup. You just craved to abandon all the shadows of the past.

Yet life wasn’t gentle with you neither then nor now—God seemed to really not favour you as one of its pawns, because why else would you be assigned to take care of the most bratty child you had ever met?

“Water.” the new heir, to pratically everything, snapped, voice smoother and deeper, not betraying his juvenile features and his childish antics you had learned and grown accustomed to in the few weeks you had been working here.

Swiftly, you poured him a cup of water, handing it to him with a somewhat strained smile. It was a warmer day than usual, which was why the window of his study was left wide open—and your teeth made to chatter the whole time you tried to serve and appease him.

Only, it seemed, that nothing could appease the brown-haired young man this morning, because in the blink of an eyes a glass shattered next to your head, making you jump up in surprise. Suddenly your pulse was pounding in your ears and for a moment you were back in that small hut again next to the river, with the face of your husband red from anger and the shattered bottle laying at your feet like the pieces of your broken heart, as your baby was crying. Why was he crying? Unconsolable and—

“Are you trying to poison me?” you snapped out of it as he spat out the words. Swallowing you tried to come up with an excuse, something to calm the storm in him.

“Master Nicholas of course I wasn’t—”

“Then serve me water instead of lukewarm piss!”

Silence.

Your face fell—you weren’t sure if it was due to exhaustion or just having to endure his childishness or it was the possibility that if he continued to complain about every single thing you did, you would lose your job. And you couldn’t have that, no matter how much you resented him for being as explosive as the man who's name you refused to utter, he was an aristocrat and not him.

So sighing, collecting the remains of yourself, you did what you always had done when your own mother used to have meltdowns due to delirium in her old age—gift her with love she didn't deserve but this time it was directed to a (man)child who you at least assumed to deserve it—because a mother's love was something sacred.

You hugged him.

It wasn't really a conscious decision per se, you had just wanted to show him some love; but to pull him into your embrace—you hadn't thought that you actually would dare to; not just out of courage but be able to stomach touching one of the upper class, who most definitely thought commoners and even servants were on the same level as pigs; stupid and dirty, probably carrying some time of diseases.

That's why you had dreadfully expected him to push you away, to scream to cry out in revulsion, perhaps even raise his hand against you; he was allowed to after all—yet nothing.

He froze instead.

“Maid—” he didn't even know your name, didn’t need to. You were just a fly; someone he could swat away with the back of his hand and no one would bat an eye. And you had the audacity to hug him, you, how dare you, you vile, little, tiny ant. His hands raised, clenching into fists, teeth grinding together in absoloute annoyance and yet he couldn't find it in himself to push you away.

Your arms, your beating heart; something about you was human. Oddly human. Much more human than he ever could be. And then your scent engulfed him. Moss and wet—like the open fields. Warm and motherly—like her.

He failed to take notice of you pulling away. His gaze was glossy, something was pinching his chest and he was disturbed. It hurt. Your touch itself and also the absence of your touch was agonizing.

“I apologize, I overstepped.” anxiety rung in your tone, lips pressed into a thin line. He knew that look, the fear of losing something precious—the fear of having ruined another banquet because he had smashed a teacup to the ground. And the fear he felt now, as you slipped back to being a remote figure; a background character, you wanted to fade away from between his fingers like sand, disappear in the billions of your kind when he had finally sighted something of his liking.

“I—” he cleared his throat, scowl moving back into place—the noble façade returning after the too often happening slip-ups. “I will excuse you this once.”

Yet no matter how much he tried to hide it, you took notice of the slight twitch in the corner of his mouth, but you didn’t give it much thought, much more relived to be allowed to continue working here.

If only you had suspected something— if only you had known what you had awakened in Nicholas on that fateful day.

You met the lord of the house some time after.

It was an accident really, you hadn't even meant to be on the staircase at such a dubious hour—it all had been just for Nicholas; he requested you to bring him warm soup and bread after refusing to eat dinner with his aunt, for reasons that made your chest ache and tighten in guilt.

Still you froze, clutching the tray in your sweaty palms, hoping and praying that he wouldn't demand of you to know who you were rushing the tray to—you were beyond exhausted, just having returned from the village; travelling by foot took up time and patience and it only broke your heart every single time to leave your baby behind in the hands of someone else; especially in the hands of a woman as old as Aunt Jane was. You were guilty of being a bad mom, you knew as much, but Bennett was so easily frightened and you weren’t allowed to take him in and—

“Are you new?”

You froze.

Just having passed by him, in hopes he wouldn't take notice of you, you truly had believed he would just let you slip by. At least you had wished he would. You didn't want to converse with another soul, especially not a man with a voice similary deep to that of your deadbeat husband's.

Still you had to say something. You couldn't just flitter away.

So you opened up your mouth.

“Yes, your lordship.” you recited the title you had been taught.

“Who hired you? I have never seen you before.” his tone was demanding, clipped and stern, but there was a soft edge to it, that made you take a peek back over your shoulder, only to startle at the sight. He was standing a few stairs below you, stoic as a statue and with a face hidden by the shadows of the night, the castle only dim-light by the tea-lamp in his grasp held too far away from his features to make anything out—except the penetrating stare you could feel slicing through you; judging and scrutinizing you.

Calm down, you're not a criminal. You're just doing your job.

You turned around, bowing your head and glancing away—somehow showcasing submission felt the right thing to do.

“The head maid, your lordship.”

“Ah.” you could hear some tension slip. “Good.” he probably nodded and you assumed he was finished with his questions until you heard him clear his throat, stepping closer.

“Do you work in the kitchen?” he took another step up, until you both stood on the same step.

“No, your lordship, I serve the young lord.” you answered while feeling his breath blow at your forehead—was it just you or was he standing too close?

“I see.” again with the stern yet awkward answer, as if he himself wasn't sure what more to ask—as it already was obvious that you weren't a robber nor a thief, just a servant working dutifully as he expected of them.

Yet there was something about you, a certain something emanating from you that just made him—

Time seemed to stand still and he with it after he leaned forward, nose so close to your crown it nearly bumped into it.

Sniff.

Was he—was he sniffing you?

You face immediately morphed into abject horror, worried that you stunk, you had been travelling all day and that mostly by foot. You gritted your teeth, cheeks flush with colour, ashamed; not having considered the possibility of sweat sticking to you like a foul-smelling perfume.

“Unbelievable.” he murmured, mumbling more to himself than you really. You could see his right hand, the one without the lamp, twitch as if he was tempted to reach out to you.

“You smell exactly like—” he cut himself off, and his features morphed into something unreadable as you stole a few glances at his face.

And before anything else could unfold he was gone, having sprinted down the stairs to god-knows where, having left you puzzled and confused by his reaction. Finally continuing to climb up the stairs you started to conclude that the entire nobility had to be weird people that were oddly obsessed with smell.

Life slowly but surely took some shape—as some sort of routine settled.

Even with how often you were stuck between work as a maid and being a mother, pendling between the manor and the village as often as you were allowed to, you still somehow felt more put together than before. As if each piece of you was slowly glued back together; as if God slowly saw you too and each of your prayers, one by one, would slowly be answered by him. And all came with the arrival of Spring; endless hope bloomed in your chest for a better world—for a less burdened life.

Yet your momentary happiness was ripped away again, replaced by somberness because what the fuck, god?

What was, she doing here?

Your childhood nemesis, as childish as it sounded—the girl who was always smarter, prettier, better than you, so much so that your mom couldn't shut up about it; Maria.

“(Y/n)!” she chirped, voice like nails against a chalkboard.

She repeated your name again—chanted it like a prayer that would be whispered under one's breath in sermons on sunday mornings. Only hers sounded like she was trying to summon something evil that would split the word apart—or at least your head, because it was buzzing in pain from her nagging tone.

“For God's sake Maria! What is it?” you clutched the edge of the kitchen table, huffing in exasperation, having just spent the last five minutes listening to her call your name while you were busy preparing the Master's dinner. A vein was surely about to pop out of your forehead, because this woman just giggled in response and painfully stupid at that.

“What’s with the sour face?” she chuckled, resting her cheek on her palm, black streaks of hair falling over her shoulders because she—like everyone else besides you and the lord's son—was already ready for bed.

“I am trying to haste! And you're chatting my ear off again—.” you quiped, gaze narrowing at her like you usually did when you were disapproving of something—hoping you managed to look as intimidating as your grandma did back then when she had caught you with your entire fist in the jar of strawberry jam. “Besides, why are you still up? You should be off to bed, shift starts early as always.” hopefully she would take the hint and leave.

Instead, she laughed.

Of course she would. Like she laughed when she stole your favourite red ribbon when you both were eight.

“You’re still up and I don't see anyone scolding you for it. So why is it wrong when I do it?” she snickered, truly the bane of your existence, especially because she slipped off of the chair, in her nightgown—shamelessly; she was not worrying about one of the others, let alone the lord, seeing her like this. Actually, scratch that, she probably wanted him to see her like this.

“Come on, you're so tired all the time, I thought I would offer you some of my company.” she drew closer, until her breath rung loudly in your ear, and her piercing blues for eyes slithered over you like a serpent’s tail.

“Laughing keeps young. You should laugh more.” she observed and it almost felt like a threat— she wanted you to react, to show visibly whatever it is that she managed to evoke in you.

You recoiled from the proximity, almost spooked by the sudden closeness. If it weren't for the wooden crucifix dangling from your neck, you almost would've feared that she was a demoness with those piercing eyes of hers. But even if she wasn't, her eyes still betrayed evil buried so deep in her core that you could only shudder and the snappy words you usually would retort with died on your tongue. She always had been weird, but it somehow was only more unsettling seeing her act the same way as a grown woman.

“I—I really should haste.” you were quick to pick up the tray you had finished preparing and even quicker to leave, without looking back at her even once.

Well, perhaps it had been for the better, because if you had looked back you would have seen the wet muscle of her mouth flicking out of its enclosure to lick over where you just touched on the counter.

You, the girl who's ribbons she had stolen, who's knitted scarf she would inhale when you weren't looking—just another kid from the neighbourhood but you were so much more than that, so much more to her. You the woman who clung so pathetically to religion, hiding behind it, when you both knew about the kiss at nine. Only you seemed to have forgotten—but she hadn’t.

Often times dealing with the young lord was bone-scraping work. Hard, exhausting, as if you were plucking weeds from the crops instead of following him like a shadow.

Somehow at some point, you had migrated from being just a maid to being only his personal maid, aiding him with everything. Truly puzzling, yet somehow endearing—because maybe you were too prideful and cocky, but you liked to imagine your own little Bennett growing into such a fine young man as Master Nicholas (only appearance-wise). He was lean, tall with a fair face and soft brown curls that were reminiscent of your own child’s wild locks (even if it was the one feature his father had passed down, you still found it endearing).

But truth be told, maybe that's why you were so inclined to serve Master Nicholas with more softness than you usually would—not just out of fear and respect of the wealthy, not because the thought of losing this job would send you spiraling into a meltdown.

“Maid” his voice was startling, as usual. Maybe it was because it did not match his youthful face or maybe he would bark at you like a dog to command you around.

“Yes, Master Nicholas.” you addressed him, staying put on your spot next to the window overlooking the estate—the snow had melted by now. You wondered if Aunt Jane would allow him to play in the snow before it completely faded. Bennett would surely be upset if he had to wait a whole year to feel the ‘potato milk’ he had called it as a two-year old. The term still made you crack a smile even now.

“What are you looking at?” he startled you again; you hadn't notice him getting up to his feet and dragging himself closer to you—steps heavy against the creaking floorboard of his study. “You seem so—” he continued only to quiet down and come to stand an arm length away from you.

You glanced at him, waiting patiently for him to finish—even when all you craved to do was think about your little baby. But even as you gave him all the time he needed, the end of his sentence never came, instead he huffed and leaned against the wall joining you in on your habit of looking out the window with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

His eyes darted over the landscape—noticing the returning of the splendor of birds in the garden.

“Ugly birds.” he spat, “they're thieves.” he was glaring down at the magpie’s dancing around in the garden, flying from branch to branch and picking at the grass.

Your eyes flicked to him, then they averted back down. “At least they're free.” your muttered and your finger instinctively touched your ring finger—it was a simple band of metal, something cheap but something so binding it felt suffocating, as if you dared to pull it off of your finger you would be cursed, even if you hated the burden marriage laid on your shoulders.

“Free?” he looked over at you—really looked at you, scanning you from head to toe, then scoffed. “So you aren't free, maid?” he still hadn't bothered to learn your name, perhaps never would, but his eyes belied real softness underneath his constructed politeness.

“I thought father was more lenient with you servants.” he furrowed his brows, green eyes a shade darker—growing upset at the lord.

“No, Master Nicholas!” you quickly cut in, not wanting to cause dispute between father and son, startled that he was even able to make our your senseless mumbling.

“His lordship is a fair in his handling with us servants. You needn’t to worry.” you claimed surprising even yourself—but to some extent it was true. You never thought you would side with a noble, but here you were defending the lord’s honour; because truth be told he geninuely didn’t seem like a bad man, but he seemed like a strange man.

“Are you certain?” he blurted, insisting oddly enough. How atypical of him when he was usually apathic to everything not concerning him.

“Yes, Master Nicholas.” you nodded, a strained smile on your face, when you only could smile at Bennett earnestly with a clear conscious—and without betraying god. Still some things had to be done. It gets the job done. You could recall your grandmother saying each time before she whipped out the same old rag to clean the floors, that was barely on; only throughdreams and prayers alone. So yes, it wasn’t truthful, but it got the job done.

So stillness took over you both again and you truly believed he wouldn’t initate a conversation with you again.

“Call me Nicholas.” it seems you were wrong.

“Master Nicholas I can't—” your eyes had grown wide.

“Call me by my name.” he demanded again, his narrowed.

You swallowed thickly. This was definitely crossing some sort of boundaries—nobility and commoner's shouldn't mix, shouldn't be too familiar you both knew that, yet he still asked of you the impossible, insisting even. But seeing his softened gaze—the longing and craving for affection, the same way Bennett would look at you whenever you had to part from him—begging you to stay with him, you couldn’t let a word of protest slip from your tight throat. Your heart felt scorching hot in your chest and your tongue heavy as lead. God, please don’t let me lose this job.

“Nicholas.” you let his name slip—it felt odd, it was bare without the title.

He didn't say anything anymore after. And you would've assumed it was because of indifference if it wasn't for the cocky smile that spread across his lips.

Oh, if you just had known that he didn't just feel satisfied at the little trick that he played on you—that actually his heart beat a drum faster when you called him that. That he felt little shocks of electricity zap at his skin and run down his spine.

You just had confirmed it,

—that you were like her, his deceased mother, but so much better. You were like the mother he had always wanted, the one that was quiet, loving and nurturing, who was there for him, showed emotion, behaved like a human rather than someone with a stick up their ass. You may have smelled like her, like the open fields and woods she so loved more than anything else, including him, but you weren’t her and for that he was forever grateful, because—

you were beneath him.

You would have to do whatever he wanted. Whether it was accompanying him, bringing him dinner, calming him down from one of his meltdowns or sleeping together with him in his bed like he always wanted his mother to do.

He could keep you here with him.

For him you were just another dog on a leash anyways.

A week had passed by now, and you had grown accustomed to calling him by his first name, albeit only in private, for obvious reasons that is.

Only it seemed that his father still caught wind of it, because why else would the lord of the house specifically request you into his study, a frown on his face, his scrutinizing dark brown gaze travelling over your form.

“So,” he cleared his throat and you were screaming internally—you couldn't lose this position, you needed it, desperately so, your child need it. You couldn't start from zero again, being a servant for a noble paid better than most other jobs and even provided you with the meals and the housing—the Baron couldn’t just throw you out because of the request his child had made! At least you hoped he wouldn’t.

“—I heard my son favours you.” he blurted out, his words felt like a good lashing with a belt that made you want to recoil.

“I wouldn't know, your lordship.” you were quick to answer, hot in the face, blunt nails digging into your palms, hoping, praying, pleading with God that he wouldn't throw you out. That he was as nice as you thought he was; that he would continue to prove you wrong about the secret evil of the wealthy.

He paused, looked at you and the longer the silence between you stretched on the more you felt stifled by the threat looming over you like a shadow you couldn't shake off.

You couldn’t stand it anymore, so you spoke up.

“Please I—”

“Your presence is doing him good.” his voice cut yours down and you lowered your head, heart beating against your ribcage rapidly, he was going to— Wait.

What?

“Your lordship? Pardon?” you blinked. It seems that the years spend on this earth hadn’t made you much wiser because you were baffled by his comment.

He sighed, ascending from his seat to step in front of his desk. Clad in his usual sade suit crossed his arms over his chest and let his eyes were stray from your figure.

“I want you to continue as you are. You know, his mother passed away when he was young and it has,” he paused, “affected him since.” he finished putting emphasis on the last words while leaving out that affected meant Nicholas’ emotions being all over the place; so much so that one moment he could be calm and the next he would trash his entire study. But you didn't blame the lord for not elaborating, admitting such a thing was probably ashaming.

“I understand, your lordship.” you replied, heart heavy now for another reason as the fear faded—every child deserved a mother. Your own hadn't been the one for you, emotionally neglecting you, yet your grandmother had. So you sympathised with him; perhaps nannies had tried to fill the void, but they never quiet could've, not like a mother could at least. Maybe that’s why a part of you had been searching for something more—maybe that’s why a piece of you had been missing until Bennett was born.

“I will be there for him.” you replied. No matter how insufferable you had assumed the upper class to be— and truth be told they were — there were still human, as you, nothing but your worth differentiated you from them. They were just born better; richer, with more possibilities at hand, but Nicholas' life of hardship proved to you that even born with a golden spoon in one’s mouth, one’s soul could harbour hunger.

And somehow this made you feel closer to him. Initially you had feared him because he had reminded you of your dreaded husband you had fled from, but slowly you realized that he was like you in a sense; of your childhood self. His gaze would often mimic Bennett’s disappointment everytime you had to leave. In a way, you felt relieved at the lord’s encouragment, seen and acknowledged but to also supported to offer a fraction of your love to Nicholas too.

A smile stretched across your lips—not a fake one this time.

“That’s—”he exhaled, slumping sideways ever so slighty, with gentle curls slicked back, “that’s good to hear, (Y/n).”

You let your smile widen and eyes soften. His visible relief felt rewarding and his words bordering on praise were flustering. Everything about the lord was stern but gentle, a walking contradiction some might say, but somehow it just made sense for him to be this way—a baron, a lord to his people and servants reigning over his land with a firm hand yet a loving father, tender in the way he would speak about his heir’s battered soul. He would’ve been a man grandmother would’ve liked.

As the words died down on the both of your tongues, you awaited him to dimiss you. However he didn’t, in fact he didn’t even move—still as a statue. So you took it upon yourself to inquire whether you should leave him alone in the privacy of his study.

“If that was all, shall I take my leave now, your—”

“Do you—”he paused, “do you wear perfume?”

Your brows scrunched up.

Oh God no, not again. Did you perhaps stink again like that night. Hopefully not, because if you did, you would start to scrub every layer of your attire—from chemise to the outer layer of your skirt.

“No, your lordship.” you answered thickly. God, you hoped you didn’t smell of sweat.

“I see.” he answered ambigously, not comfirming nor denying your worries. Besides, he should know that you as a servant could hardly afford such a luxury—so was he actually mocking you, telling you to wear perfume? You hoped that it was just an odd fixation that all nobles beheld and not the latter.

“You’re dismissed.” he finally exclaimed and you felt relief. Quietly you stood up, nodding politely, before turning on your heel and exiting his study.

Oh, only if you knew how enticing you actually smelled to him. Like Juliane, but with something motherly and tenderly sticking to you, a better version of his deceased wife. A commoner, so ignorant to the life of nobility, that wasn’t even aware of how her features tugged into different directions every second, so unsued to using titles that he could tell you sometimes were about to slip-up and not address him properly.

You were remisicent of his first love; love that was fiery and strong, but you were like the spring, a budding rose with dull thorns. He felt the aching pang of love in his chest whenever your startled gaze met his and that scared Charles. To think his heart would start beating again after a decade—and that for nothing but a maid. He knew he had to be sensible, love was fictious in the life of the upper class and to experience such a gift for the second time was laughable.

But if that love was you — someone so sweet, even his own son started to soften around the edges— then maybe he could induldge himself a tad; enjoy life a little with you by his side.

Yeah, Charles would like to enjoy this life together with you, after forced to experience this perputel loneliness for nearly a decade. Maybe you two could even gift Nicholas a little sibling in the future, only after having slipped a ring of your finger that is.

Yeah, he would like to indluge. After all, one was only born once, right?

Life was sweeter now—not as sweet as the cherries you would pick in secret from the neighbour’s tree at seven or the first taste of sugar you ever had at twelve, but it was worthwhile.

Especially with your little toddler sticking to you like glue; Aunt Jane had brought him here to visit you, after having whined the entire last week because of you failing to visit him again. So your clever little boy had suggested that he just visited you.

“Mommy, you live here?” you chuckled softly at the awe in his voice.

“I work here, Ben’.” you replied, smiling at the familiar face of the guard, nodding at you.

“So that's the little lad.” the man you had learned was Jonathan and surprisingly younger than you by a few years—which his broad shoulders and gruff voice would never hint at.

You nodded looking down at your child as he babbled a greeting to the guard. Now you were standing a tad straighter, eyes softening as your grandmother’s always used to and as your mother’s never had for you.

You were transfixed with your own little one; standing there next to you, finally close to you with a heart you knew hadn’t felt agony the same way yours had. So your mind wandered off and you questioned if he ever would experience what you had, but you knew he wouldn’t, because you simply wouldn’t allow fate to be this cruel to him as it had been to you. God was still listening to your prayers afterall. And suddenly you couldn't help but imagine Bennett grown up, flourished into a strong man as Jonathan with broad shoulders and biceps that could make anyone shudder in fear or perhaps like the lord himself, with a clipped tone yet a soft gaze and presence that was overwhelming.

“Good day to you too lad.” he nodded at your little extension, watching how proud you were of him—and he had to admit he liked it. The smile on your face was sweeter than the scent of flowers hanging in the air and your little buddy was shyly adorable. He offered you another one of his own smiles that inevitably ended up looking grim, while you both passed by him to disappear into the manor and leave him to sigh to himself again.

“Mommy—Mommy look that looks like a person!” was the first thing that left Bennett’s mouth, brown curls bouncing up and down with his jumps, big-eyed fascination clear across his face as he stared at the oil painting of the lord and his son hung up on the staircase. Even though you were feeling bleak from all the unfortunate circumstances, your soul ripping apart that you had been forced to neglect your son for so long— you couldn’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm feeling warmth spread in you from the fact that your baby was with you in the moment.

“Shh, quieter Ben’.” you scolded him as you grabbed his tiny fist, leading him towards the kitchen, worried someone might take notice. You didn’t want to get yourself into trouble—and because you knew how strict the head maid could be, you lead your little boy into the kitchen.

However the moment you entered you wished you hadn’t because for the love of god, what was she again doing here, just loitering around; doing absolutely the bare minimum.

“If that isn’t my most favourite person ever!” she immediately chirped, as she usually did, stopping chewing on the piece of pastry in her hands to round the courner of the counter, adamant on annoying you on her short lunchbreak as always with the fattest grin anyone could have on their face—only to gasp.

“What—” her eyes widened, almost dropping her meal.

“What, what is that?” she pointed at your child as if he was a weirdly coloured bug that had slipped in. Unbelievably crude and rude.

“That's my son, Maria.”

“Your son? That's Ben you can't shut up about?” she grimaced and you felt your eye twitch, because you had mentioned him once in her presence.

“Bennett for you.” you were tempted to roll your eyes, picking your son up to sit him down on one of the many empty fruit boxes, perfect to be used as a chair. Maria just stared at you funnily.

“Do you want something Ben’? Mommy can make you anything you want.” you smiled at him, and somehow, in some way this just felt right. And for a moment you fantasised that this nice kitchen was yours—that this home was only yours and Bennett's. That you were free.

And then Maria’s obnoxiously loud stomping snapped you out of it again and you threw her a dirty look as she left the kitchen to do god-knows-what.

Only unbeknownst to you, not only the black-haired little snake and a few other maids, which were either adoring or annoyed caught you, but also the lord's heir—the one searching for you almost frantically, because you had not come when you usually would.

Where were you?

He was hurrying down the stars, frenzied, desperately searching for you—you were practically promised to him now; promised to stay by his side day-in-day out. You were just a servant for fuck’s sake—you didn't and shouldn't have autonomy to just anything. Could a dog walk without its owner? No. So where the fuck where you—

That's when he caught sight of you in the kitchen, with a little demon by your side, making you smile and yap so sweetly that it could rot teeth.

Straining his memory to figure out what that leech was that made you beam in a way that you never had at him before in the entire year you had been working here—his anger only heightened the moment he finally remembered.

”Oh, my little Ben absolutely loves..”

That's your kid.

Your child; this little ant.

How dare he, an insufferable brat, who probably still shits himself from time to time, dare consume your attention so entirely that you would neglect your duties and dote on something so tiny and powerless compared to him.

Why was it him, this fool, this insufferable little devil that took you—why couldn’t your eyes soften as much as when they laid on him. It was unfair, criminal. He was the heir to the entire land his father had inherited from his grandpa and to think with all the influence he held you would still go and pick a toddler over him was maddening. To think that you another insect scurrying around together with all the others could dare to be picky.

No, he was lying. You weren’t just another insect, you were his mom-to-be.

“Mother.” he spat under his breath, knuckles white from how tightly he clutched the pearls of his actual deceased mother's in his hand—he had specifically fished them out of her jewellery box that sat abandoned in one of the many rooms of the manor to gift you them but now here he was watching you betraying him.

“I have lost a mother once.” he was slowly ripping the poor necklace apart—the band holding on for dear life.

“I won’t lose one twice.” the pearls all spilled to the ground like blood.

So he laid a curse on you; one so cruel that you wouldn't have any other choice but to accept your rightful position as his dog.

Just you wait and see.

---♡---

Life sometimes developed in strange ways, did it not? Because you never would've imagined to sit with Jonathan under a cherry blossom tree.

The summer was fading and cold, cruel days were arriving, but somehow everything felt much better this way. It felt right. This fragile understanding of affection—you were glad the colder days would put some distance between the two of you, force you to part, because after the young man had confessed to you, you couldn't help but feel the flattery get to your head—allowing yourself to wish and long for something unattainable.

“I—” awkwardly clearing his throat he looked over at you, “I want you, m’lady.” scratching the back of his neck, he looked down.

“I am big and strong. My position is stable—my salary isn't half bad. I am quite a catch.” he declared cockily, with his chest puffed out proudly, trying to feign arrogance, when you knew he was nothing but a puppy in love.

You couldn't help but chuckle, “Jonathan, you're sweet, but—” you protested half-heartedly, more amused than anything. Mostly because you both knew you were officially still married.

“No—no, lady! I am serious, as I am about my feelings for ya.” you found his drawl endearing and found your fave heating up the moment he leaned closer, the lines on his forehead deepening.

“Stop laughing m’lady!” you couldn't help but laugh more—it was comical how he kept on addressing you as if you were noble yourself, as if you were above him.

“Just tell me what to do, so you'll believe me.” you didn't say anything anymore, instead you just smiled bashfully as he kissed your knuckles before fleeing inside again.

But, it seems luck despised you because father like son, Charles was glaring down at the scene from his study, feeling his heart rip at the sight of another man vying for your hand, while another already had bound you in marriage.

It wasn't fair, why was everyone getting a piece of you, why were you giving everyone something to cherish but you let him starve?

He so desperately wanted you, he craved you, but unlike his son, he would never take anything forcibly, especially not you a delicate rose with blunt thorns. Rather he would wait for all the flies around you to die by themselves so that your soul could find its way back to his, where it rightfully belonged to.

---♡---

No.

You refused this reality.

This couldn't be happening.

Crying nor screaming changed what had occured; you had murdered your child with your own two hands. All because you couldn’t take him with you, make him stay close to you.

Still you had tried to lie to yourself. To believe and to fantasize that your baby somehow could be well without you. You had hoped that your husband—as horrid as he was—at least would never reach him; never get too close to your treasured pearl, but he did. He managed to tear everything down and he took Bennett with him; he dragged him back into the lion’s den only to let his own son rot like a beggar out on the streets.

You had hoped. You had prayed daily, trusting god. But trust alone just wasn’t enough.

It never was.

He had died because of you—because you were stupid, foolish and worse than your own mother. Your grandmother would’ve died a second time if she had witnessed you now—a vile excuse for a human; picking up the cold corpse of her child, of a toddler with chubby cheeks that now were icy to the touch.

Tears brimmed at your eyes and you wondered if they would wet your cheeks first or your heart would shatter first—frail like glass. Memories flushed back into your head. Willow had died in your hands too—sick and frail as a baby, but Bennett, he had been a lively child, sticking to you like glue no matter how lithe he was. He was alive—had been alive for god’s sake! And now—now his chest didn’t rise anymore.

He was gone.

And it was your fault.

Until you sighted the man who had driven you away from your babies—who had inevitably caused their deaths.

So who could blame you now? An eye for an eye—wasn’t this what priests preached; wasn’t this god’s holy words? So as any good mother would do, following nothing but instinct, you followed the path of the holy to succumb to sin.

You tackled him—it was easier than you thought it would be. He was still weary; having just awoken from a drunken slumber, peacefully snoring away while your baby had lost the battle to a fever, that would’ve needed care and attention to heal; but it could have subsided, he could have lived. The only reason he was dead was this monster under you, now starting to struggle—roaring at you to get off. But the knife was already secure in your hand.

You had found it in the kitchen; it was a big butcher’s knife, one that your mother’s mother and her mother had owned to slice through a chicken’s neck like butter.

“Hey—what are you doing? Get off me you madwoman!” he yelped and cried, nearly managing to throw you off and tumble forward before you could swing. Nearly.

But as you had been too late, he also was, and the blade sliced through his neck without any resistance, tearing almost through everything.

He was dead before he could blink.

Still, you dropped the blade on his throat a few times more—just for good measures really—until his head rolled off; empty as it was, spilling all it was worth on the ground.

For a moment all you did was pant and stare, now he was just a shell spilling crimson in gallons, his blood your tears.

You stared until you couldn't anymore, until bile rised in your throat and you scrambled to your feet gagging.

Stumbling over him, skirt drenched in red and the floor slippery you crashed back to your knees, clawing your way back to your child like a mole, trying to navigate through the blurring of your sight. Yet the moment you felt his cold hand you cradled him, clutching him like a lifeline—like if you pressed him close enough to your own heart, his would start beating too like a match sharing its flame with another.

Even if all you wanted was to embrace and mourn your little boy, there was something inside of you—a certain fire, a nagging in the back of your head that screamed at you to get up, to get moving, that not all hope was lost yet.

And so you were quick to scramble to your feet, disoriented like a lamb but staggering forward and out the door. The wind whipped at you—untangled your scarf from you. It was winter, the north wind bitter cold, yet he couldn’t affect you, nothing could and the snow that had risen to your ankles inevitably bloomed in red with each of your steps as you continued to push through, to drag your feet forward, agains the bellowing howls of the wind. Your hands were red too, everything was, but what made you cry out was the filthy colour staining your baby. How dare he. To dirty him even in death, monster.

You were going to safe your son from the paw’s of his father that extended even death, you would bring him to safety and that safety was the manor—the only place where you once had felt warmth blossom in your chest that had beheld a functioning heart.

The walk was long, it took an hour. A whole hour out in the cold, ice nipping at your skin, and snowflakes decorating your hair—but all that didn't matter, it couldn't matter if it meant a way to save him. The lord was a powerful man, he could summon a doctor knowledgeable enough to save Bennett—you were sure of it. He would save your baby.

Yet, by the time you arrived, having left terrified figures behind you, the guard at the gait immediately jumped forward.

“Fuck (Y/n)!” Jonathan spat in surprise, eyes round in terror.

“What happened to you? Are you hurt? Did someone attack you? What is it him?—” and he would've demanded more, already reaching out to touch your shoulder, if he hadn't seen little Bennett in your arms—pale as snow and frozen on the spot. Something was deeply disturbing about the picture of the little boy in your bloodied arms and the longer he stared the more his hand trembled.

“He—” he started but cut himself off with a look at your face. He was worried, terrified for you.

While he could do nothing but stare in shock —like all the villagers you met on your way had looked at you—you slipped into the garden, striding forward to the manor, only hearing panicking behind you accompanied with heavy stomping after you slipped through the front door; already inside. And nothing could stop you from bringing your son back to life.

Fear was a stranger now.

So you climbed up the stairs and burst into the baron’s study unprompted, with no use of the usual manners you portrayed.

“Please—” you were quiet, so quiet you feared he wouldn’t take notice of you.

But it wasn’t just the lord, Nicholas was also standing there consumed in a lively discussion until you entered and both of their heads whipped towards you, eyes immediately widening.

“He’s stopped breathing. I don't know why—he was just laying on the floor without moving. I have tried everything, but he just doesn’t want to wake up, please, I don’t know what to do anymore and—” you were a broken machine, only able to repeat yourself over and over again, in hopes they could read between the lines of your anguish; that they could decipher your pleading for a doctor, even if you were just a maid. And even if your life was worth nothing compared to them, Bennett’s life was something worth to you and you hoped that they could see that. That even if your child was a commoner as you, he was worth the world.

“What happened?” the lord was the first one to speak up. He stepped close enough to look at the boy in your arms.

“Why are you drenched in blood? Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you? You look pale as a ghost. Where are you bleeding—” Nicholas questions rained down on you, yet you could do nothing but stare into his father's eyes, ignoring his fuzzing.

Slowly, the lord outstretched his arms.

“Come. I will help. Give him to me.” he urged, shutting Nicholas up.

You didn’t want to. This was Bennett, your little boy, a seed that had sprung from you and had grown under your wing and to hand him over to someone else, while the same blood pumped through our veins seemed odd; cruel even. But this was the lord, wasn’t he—he was kind, understanding and your only flimmer of hope. Only he could save your baby, your Ben.

So you let him take the one thing of value in your life; your child.

And that's when your world’s edges blurred and foreign arms wrapped around you.

“Mother—” yor sweet baby was talking to you. At least you heard his voice one last time.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe now mother.”

Only you didn't pass.

But your soul had.

“Bennett?” you were calling out for him until your throat was raw, but he never came.

“Mother, calm, I am here. It's alright mother. Your son is here.” Nicholas muttered again, chanting the string of words like a mantra, as if they would ring true when reached a certain number of repetition, as if you would magically start believing in them after a certain time.

“We’re here for you, love.” the lord muttered, calling himself Charles, telling you it was fine to mourn to cry and rage, but that you had a new family now. And that this new one would ensure your utmost happiness till the end of time. Everything was so bizarrely confusing—and all you wanted to do was scream.

Maria was ominously around you too; always in the shadows, serving you, whispering to you when she would hand you a glass of water and wipe your sweat-covered face, trying to awaken from yet another nightmare.

Yet no one mentioned Bennett. No one even spoke his name; it was like a taboo, almost like his mention would curse you all.

You prayed harder and stronger, yet no one ever heard you, or seemed to care. Nicholas' grip never loosened on you, he never stopped calling you mom and the baron not once failed to call you his beloved—and both expected you to wear it like a badge of honour when all you wanted was to be reunited with your child.

Finally you concluded that God had abandoned you long ago.

Just this time, please, don’t let me be reborn again.

#A Heart Of Gold #yandere #yandere story #male yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere stories #yandere oc #platonic yandere #yandere writing #yandere ocs #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #female yandere #Iamsorry #angst

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natashaslesbian · 5 months ago

Text

Little Prankster | N|M

Summary: You love playing pranks

Request: Blackhill x daughter pulling pranks on the avengers

Word Count: 839

Warnings/Content: one swear word

—————————————————————————

Maria knew from day one of her pregnancy that you were going to be an active child, you never settled once in her stomach. Natasha would spend hours running her hand over her girlfriend’s bump but still you were tossing and turning “come on sweetie mommy’s trying to rest” she would say to your growing form. Even from the womb you would play ticks on your mothers, kicking your mom’s bladder enough for her to think she’d gone into labour, when in reality you’d just forced her to pee her pants.

Natasha didn’t believe Maria the day she actually went into active labour, she was convinced the brunette had just had another accident. It was a few hours until the widow finally realised you were on your way and she managed to get her girlfriend to the hospital just in time. The doctor said it was the quickest labour she’d ever witnessed, clearly you were very excited to join the world. You screamed the hospital down when you arrived, but to your moms, it was the best sound in the world.

You grew quickly in the avengers tower, always causing some kind of trouble. You were influenced heavily by your uncles, particularly Clint and Tony. You were a pawn in their prank war although you didn’t mind placing a whoopee cushion on Bruce’s chair. The tower was always filled with the sound of your laughter as you figured out a new way to wind up your family. Your best trick was the day you managed to call all of the avengers to a meeting then repeatedly changed the location from Tony’s laptop - he’s still not sure if he’s forgiven you for all the smack he got for that one.

Your moms weren’t the biggest fan of your pranks, however they couldn’t deny the fun they would have when you’d come running to them to help you with your sneaky ways. Natasha won’t ever forget the day you and her were hiding in the wardrobe, waiting to scare Maria when she came back from a run. “Shhh mama, you need to be quiet. No giggling!” You said with an adorably angry pout “sorry sweetie, I’m ready I promise” the redhead had said.

You smiled up at Natasha when you heard your mom enter the bedroom, the two of you knew the first thing she would do would grab some fresh clothes. You jumped out of the darkness as soon as Maria opened the wardrobe doors, your mom’s screams could be heard through the tower. “Oh you two!” Your mommy sighed as you tickled your stomach. “Sorry babe, I just couldn’t resist” Natasha laughed. “I’m so getting you back for that!” Maria laughed as well.

It was a week later when Maria came to you with her idea for getting back at Natasha, despite everyone knowing you were the true mastermind. Your eyes lit up at the chance to pull a new prank. You snuck into mamas office with precise movements, Maria following slowly behind you. “Ready baby, up we go” your mommy said as she lifted you up towards the ceiling fan, helping you too tie the balloons to the boards. “I’m done mommy” you said when you were satisfied with your work. “And now for the glitter” Maria said, you giggled as you watched her careful pour the tubes of sparkles on top of the fan.

“Mommy, mama’s coming I hear her!” You said when you heard the faint sounds of Natasha yelling at Tony about something. The two of you shuffled around in the dark, waiting beside the switch for the ceiling fan. “Next time I’ll decode Jarvis Tin man!” Your mom yelled just outside the door. You held back your giggles as you watched Natasha enter her office, you pulled on Maria’s shirt giving her the signal. Your mommy huffed a breath of relief at finally being alone as she turned on the light, at the same time Maria switched on the fan. “What the fuck!” Natasha yelled in surprise as Balloons fell from the ceiling and it began raining glitter.

“Language mama!” You laughed as you came running out to dance in the waterfall of your sparkles. Natasha sighed in relief when she realised she had just been pranked by her two favourite girls. “I’m sorry sweetie, you scared me!” She giggled. “Yay” you cheered. “I’m gonna wash your mouth out with soap” Maria joked, coming to kiss her girlfriend “then I’ll help you decode Jarvis” she smiled. “Tony’s just being Tony” Natasha said.

Your moms watched as you continued to hold your own little party in the puddle of glitter. “This is gonna take forever to clean up” your mommy sighed with a wide smile “I know, but I just couldn’t resist” Maria said. “You know these pranks are only gonna get worse as she gets older right?” Natasha asked. “Yeah…but could we ever really be mad at her?” Maria said as she and your mommy looked back at you. “No. Never” Natasha agreed.

—————————————————————————

A/N: Thank you for reading!

- Astara Bell

—————————————————————————

[Taglist]

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @nevaeh-daughterofvalcarol / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904 / @strange-night-owl / @hatergirl-69

#marvel #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel fic #nat x reader #avengers #natasha x daughter!reader #maria hill x reader #maria hill #blackhill #blackhill x reader #maria hill x natasha romanoff #Maria hill x daughter reader

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writerslittlelibrary · 1 year ago

Text

We can be your family, part 2

masterlist part 1 part 2

summary: having been in the foster system all your life, you don't expect much when your case worker tells you you're being moved again. what happens when the car suddenly stops in the most expensive neighborhood in all of New York…

pairing: Natasha x teen reader, Maria x teen reader, Blackhill

warnings: mentions of abusive foster families, mention of sexual assault, a deadly amount of mama Natasha fluff

genre: fluff

words: 1257

a/n: part 2 is here! it's really short but I didn't really know what else to write. this is just mainly here to give closure to part one :)

I'm not really planning on writing a third part, but if the demand is there and anyone has an idea, maybe I will🫶

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

Living with Natasha and Maria was the most fun you had in a while. They made you food three times a day, always asked for your opinion on things, and always made sure you were okay. it was a completely different experience than you were used to, and it couldn't have been better.

Tonight Maria and Natasha scheduled a movie night, and to say you were excited was an understatement. The day before, Natasha had taken you to the store to pick out all sorts of snacks. Maria had made your favorite dinner and you were happy and content as you three watched the movie.

That was, until Natasha got a sudden call.

You paused the movie while she left the room to pick up the phone. You anxiously looked at the closed, knowing no normal person called at this time of night, so it must be your social worker.

Marie noticed your concerned gaze, deciding to distract you with the mission to help her make you three hot chocolates.

Soon enough, you were laughing in the kitchen, the amount of mini marshmallows in the hot beverage being absolutely unacceptable, all the while Maria just kept putting more in.

You helped Maria take the hot chocolates to the couches, putting them down on the coffee table. Just then Natasha walked in, a distressed look on her face. You looked at her, but kept your mouth shut. You didn't want to know what was wrong, especially if it meant leaving.

Her and Maria shared a knowing look, before Natasha sat down next to you and laid her hand on your knee, smiling warmly at you.

"Before I say anything, I just need you to know that you're not going anywhere. You are staying right here, with us. I promise,” Natasha said as Maria took a seat next to you as well.

"What's wrong?" you asked Natasha, and she hesitated a moment before responding.

"Alice called, and apparently, a foster parent you stayed with before has been arrested, and they want you to testify against him…” Natasha explained carefully, and you just sat there, avoiding your gaze back to the coffee table.

"Why was he arrested?” you asked when Natasha moved her hand to your back, rubbing soothingly with her thumb.

It was silent for a moment, before Natasha took a deep breath and spoke. “ He's been arrested for abuse and…” Natasha took another breath, finding herself incapable of just saying. “And sexual assault…” she said quietly, and you closed your eyes with a soft sigh.

You knew him, and of course you knew why he had been arrested. You just needed Natasha to say it. You needed to hear it.

"I'm done with movie night,” you said after a moment of silence, getting up and shrugging Natasha's hand off your back, making your way to your room without looking back.

Neither Natasha nor Marie tried to stop you, letting you walk to your room, knowing you needed the space.

You laid in your bed, your stuffed bunny clenched tightly to your chest as numb tears streamed down your face. You wanted to be alone, and yet, it was almost as if you wanted to be alone with Natasha and Maria. You'd never felt like this before. You've never craved the touch and attention of your foster parents before, so why was it suddenly so different this time?

It was like Natasha had heard your thoughts, because soon after, you heard a soft knock on the door.

You didn't say anything, feeling too numb to even acknowledge the fact someone just knocked, but it hadn't mattered as Natasha came in anyway, a mug of hot chocolate in her hand.

She didn't say anything as she walked towards you, sitting on the bed next to you and setting the mug down on your nightstand. You sat there in silence for a while, until a muffled sob could be heard from your mouth, and Natasha didn't hesitate to crawl up the bed, sitting against the headboard as she coddled you closely to her chest.

"It's okay. Everything is going to be okay,” she assured you as her hand gently stroked your back, her other hand on your head as she held you tightly.

You were so close to Natasha, you didn't think you had been so close to anyone else before. You didn't think anyone ever even gave you a hug like this. A hug with meaning. A hug filled with love and care. You cried for a while, and Natasha didn't say anything as she just held you.

After a while, your sobs had turned to sniffles, and you gently raised your head from Natasha's chest.

She wiped the strands of hair from your face, smiling gently as she cupped your cheeks.

"Everything is going to be okay,” she assured you again, and you could cry purely from the way that she said it. You didn't cry, instead just sitting up against the headboard next to her, you bunny still rightly in your embrace. Natasha had one arm over your shoulders, making you sit against her closely.

You didn't mind. You wanted to be as close to her as possible.

"Can I have my hot chocolate now?” you asked quietly while your head leaned on Natasha's shoulder. Natasha smiled and reached for the mug, handing it to you, watching as you drank happily.

"I don't want to testify,” you then said. Natasha hummed but didn't say anything, waiting for you to continue. “I don't wanna see him again…” you added softly, and Natasha grimaced slightly at the idea of what he could have done to you.

"We'll think of something. We'll be here for you, I promise,” Natasha said as she gave you a kiss on your head.

You nodded as you finished your drink, handing Natasha the mug so she could put it back on your nightstand. After some more cuddles, you yawned slightly, and Natasha chuckled as she sat up straighter.

"You should get some sleep, you're exhausted,” she told you, and you nodded.

When Natasha went to get up, you hesitated for a moment, looking at your hands and picking at your skin.

"Can I stay with you tonight?” you asked quietly, almost embarrassed of the question.

Natasha smiled as she nodded, letting you stand up before she placed her hand on your back. "Of course you can.”

You went into your bathroom and quickly brushed your teeth, changing into some pajamas before walking back into your room. You grabbed your bunny and went to Natasha, who was waiting in the doorframe. She smiled as she led you to her room, opening it to reveal Maria already in the bed, a book in her hand.

The moment she saw you, she put her book down, opening her arms and inviting you to get in the bed.

"Come here sweet girl.” You quickly got in, crawling to Maria and letting yourself fall into her warm embrace. She smiled as she hugged you close, much like Natasha had done.

"I'll be right there,” Natasha said as she went into the bathroom, but you paid her little mind as you enjoyed Maria's warm hug.

Once Natasha was settled in the bed as well, you lay in between them, taking a deep breath before speaking. "Thank you,” you said quietly as you laid your head on Natasha's chest, falling asleep in no time.

"We love you, Malysh…” Natasha said as she kissed your forehead, her and Maria falling asleep as well.

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat

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upat4amwiththemoon · 1 year ago

Note

Maybe could be considered a part 2 to Vigilante Shit but it would be Blackhill mom's officially meeting and talking to Kate. If you want more funny antics it could start with Kate seeking into R's room or something like that.

P.S. love your mom fics!

Vigilante shit | 2

Summary: Sneaking out to make out and beat bad people up.

Pairing: BlackHill x daughter!reader, Kate Bishop x female!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 1424

a/n: blackhill <3 would recommend reading part 1

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

masterlists | guidelines

All parts: part 1, part 2

It’s been two weeks since Natasha and Maria caught Y/N sneaking back to her room after a vigilante mission she had with her girlfriend Kate. Which means it’s also been two weeks since Y/N has seen Kate, as her mothers thought grounding her was needed. It probably was, but she can still be annoyed about it.

Y/N is sitting on her bed, reading Jane Eyre with music playing from her phone. Her moms are downstairs cooking dinner for the three of them. A sudden clattering sound makes Y/N moves her attention away from the book. She looks around her room, but notices nothing moving or changing, so she turns back to her book.

The clatter can be heard again.

This time Y/N slams her book down to her bed, though not before putting a bookmark to the page she was in. She stands up and walks around her room, looking around for anything out of order. Just as her gaze goes over to the window, a small rock hits it, making a clattering sound.

With a frown, she looks out from the closed window. “Kate?” She mumbles, unlocking the window quickly. “What are you doing here?” Y/N whisper shouts, her head leaning out the window.

“I’m here to save my princess! Have you seen her? Her mothers locked her into a tower.” Kate giggles, her hands over her mouth in a cup like way to make sure Y/N can hear her.

Y/N scoffs with a grin, “come inside, idiot.” She glances between Kate climbing up the fore ladder and her closed door, desperately hoping her mothers haven’t heard the commotion. “You know I’m grounded, right?” She mumbles when Kate is finally inside.

“Yeah,” she kisses her before closing the window, “but I really missed you.” Kate goes to sit down on Y/N’s bed while looking at her room. She hasn’t actually been there before, as they tried to keep their relationship secret from Y/N’s moms.

She tries to act annoyed that Kate is endangering both of their wellbeing by sneaking into her room while her moms are home, but she can’t help but be happy her girlfriend is here. “I missed you too.”

Kate smiles, waving her fingers in a come here motion. As Y/N steps closer to her, she pulls her to her lap, wrapping her arms around the lower part of her waist. “How long are you still grounded for?” She speaks quietly, knowing her parents have an extra good hearing.

“Like another week, I think.” Y/N rolls her eyes, thinking her moms went overboard with the amount of grounding. “I’m also apparently never ever allowed to leave the house with you alone. So, you’re going to have to get used to hanging out here.”

Kate giggles, “I’ll live with that.” She tilts her head, suddenly dropping her smile. “Except I have to meet your parents before that, don’t I?” She frowns, her body tensing up at the thought of officially Maria and Natasha.

“You do.” Y/N hums, her hand going up to play with Kate’s hair.

“What if they won’t like me?”

Biting the inside of her cheek, she twirls a strand of hair around her finger. “They’ll like you..eventually.”

“What does that mean?”

“They’re just a but apprehensive of you after the whole vigilante thing.”

Kate groans, her forehead thudding against Y/N’s shoulder. “They hate me. I haven’t met them yet and they already hate me.”

“They don’t hate you,” Y/N cradles Kate’s head, “they just don’t like that we’ve been sneaking out to fight people.”

“Well,” she sighs, “I guess that makes sense.”

“You think?”

Kate gives Y/N’s shoulders a couple of light bites when she laughs. They start giggling together and fall down to the bed, Y/N on top of Kate.

During their giggling, that has gotten a bit too loud, they fail to notice the footsteps coming towards the room. “Y/N, the dinner i-“ Natasha stops talking as she notices her daughter isn’t alone.

“Mom!” Y/N jumps up, falling off of the bed in the process. Kate scrambles up from the bed, her eyes comically wide as she stares at Natasha staring at the two with a scarily calm expression. Y/N stands up, the three of them stand there in silence. “This is Kate.” She mumbles

“Maria!” Natasha shouts. “Come up here.” Her hands are crossed over her chest as she leans against the doorway.

Maria comes up, “what’s up?” She frowns, looking at Natasha with a questioning look, until she walks into the room. “Oh.”

“This is Kate, Y/N’s girlfriend and vigilante partner.” Natasha state.

“Is it now?” Maria takes a stance similar to Natasha, scaring both of the girls.

Clearing her throat, Kate offers her hand, but she doesn’t take any steps closer, so she is too far away to actually shake their hands. “I’m Kate. Bishop. Kate Bishop. Girlfriend. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Romanoff and Mrs. Hill.” She has a toothy smile, way too large to be genuine, though it falls when she realizes she’s still holding her hand up.

Natasha raises her brows at her rambling. “We know who you are, what we don’t know, is why you’re here while Y/N is grounded.”

“We-“

“Downstairs,” Maria interrupts Y/N from saying anything, “both of you.”

The four of them sit around the kitchen table, Kate and Y/N on one side, Natasha and Maria on the other. Kate is sitting unnaturally straight, hoping to show the two women that she is good enough for their daughter.

“So,” Natasha starts, “you two have been dating for a while.”

“And fighting crime.” Maria adds, making the couple shrink in their seats.

“Yeah.” Y/N mumbles. She’s holding onto Kate’s hand tightly, both of them clammy.

“That was totally my fault!” Kate suddenly shouts out, raising her hands, which ends up her banging her knuckles to the edge of the table, “shit, no, no, I don’t normally curse.” Her eyes are wide as she once again goes on a tangent. “I just mean, that, it was my plan to start fighting.”

Frowning, Y/N stops her girlfriend from talking, “no, it was both of our plan. You aren’t taking the blame for this.” She looks at her, her brows scrunched together.

“I don’t want your moms to be mad at you.” Kate whispers, though it’s loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Well, I don’t want them to be mad at you either.” Y/N whisper shouts back.

Natasha and Maria glance at each other, deciding for put an end to this before it goes on for too long, “we aren’t mad at anyone, so please, calm down you two. We just want to talk, set up some ground rules.”

“Like no fighting crime.” They calm down, Y/N more than Kate, as the latter is still incredibly nervous to be in front of the two women. “And no more sneaking in either.” Maria raises her brows as she turns to look at Kate.

“Sorry.” She mumbles, blushing under her gaze.

Natasha leans her elbows against the table. “We’ve been talking with Clint,” Kate perks up at the name of her mentor, “and if you two promise to follow the rules, we’ll start properly training you.”

“Really?” Y/N gasps.

“Yes, but,” Maria continues before the two can get too excited about it, “that means you two will not go out without one of us, the bedroom door stays open, and you’re still grounded.” She looks at Y/N.

“Uhuh, understood, we’ll follow every rule!”

“Every rule!” Kate echoes, quickly nodding, trying to hide her grin.

Maria chuckles while Natasha rolls her eyes with a grin on her face. “Alright.” Natasha stands up. “Go on then, go to Y/N’s room, keep the door open.”

With a giggle, Y/N stands up, takes hold of Kate’s hand, and starts pulling her towards her bedroom. They hug each other tightly once they’re inside, with the door open, and celebrate the potential of becoming real Avengers.

They jump onto the bed. “That didn’t go as badly as I thought.” Y/N smiles, leaning her head on Kate’s shoulder.

“It went well!” Kate wraps her arms around Y/N, pulling her on top with a laugh. “I love your moms.”

Y/N slaps her arm, “don’t love them more than me.” She grins.

“Never.” She kisses her, though it’s messy from all of their giggling.

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arlana-likes-to-write · 2 years ago

Text

Rescue by Lauren Daigle

Summary: Natasha doesn’t have a lot of regrets, everything she’s done in her life has gotten her to where she is now. An Avenger, a hero to young girls, and trying to remove some red from her ledger. But the one thing she does regret is giving you up. But when a word gets out that you are in trouble, she will come to rescue you.

Pairings: Natasha x Maria, Natasha x Maria x daughter!reader, past Natasha x Bucky

Warning: gun shot violence, implied rape, death, cannon typical violence, gambling, the reader needs a hug but so does Natasha

Word count: 7.1 k

“Mail call,” Wanda said, walking into the common area with a few pieces of mail in her hand.

“Who the hell gets paper mail?” Tony asked, pouring coffee into his mug.

“Some of us like to do things without technology,” Steve said as Wanda handed him the newspaper. Tony looked at the super soldier with disbelief. It was rare that the Avengers got mail but each one had specific memberships. Vision received a copy of the newest National Geographic and Pietro got Sports Illustrated. Sometimes Sam received a letter from his service buddies and Steve always got the newspaper, he did take the comics out for Peter. As Wanda handed out the mail, Natasha waited with bated breath to see if she received a letter. It was rare but she was excited nonetheless. The Sokovian smiled at the Black Widow and handed her a letter. It was addressed the same way, her name and her current address with no return.

“Thank you,” the Black Widow said, leaving her unfinished lunch on the table and heading for her room. She barely heard Tony question her odd behavior but she didn’t care. When she was safe behind her bedroom door, she opened the envelope. There was a single picture of a young girl with fiery red hair standing at a picnic table. A birthday cake was lit and presents stayed unwrapped around you. Natasha smiled, moving her finger across your face. Her daughter, whom she only got to hold once on the day she was born. When she defected to SHIELD, she gave up for you to live a normal and safe life. But she was promised that you would go to a good family and on birthdays Natasha would receive a photo. The most important thing was if there was any sign of trouble she would be called in.

“It’s about that time of year,” Maria appeared at her door. “Did you get a photo?” Natasha nodded as her girlfriend sat down next to her. Not counting the agent, four other people knew of your existence. Maria was one of them but not even the Deputy Direction knew of your true location to keep you safe. The agent gently took the picture and smiled.

“She’s spoiled rotten,” Maria teased. The Black Widow chuckled, letting her head fall onto Maria’s shoulder. It was times like this that Natasha questioned if she made the right choice. She wished she could be there for birthdays and every school accomplishment. Maria kissed her head. “I know, baby, I know.”

“Miss. Romanoff,” FRIDAY said. Natasha stopped her assault on the sandbag. “Your presence is being requested in the conference room.”

“Do I have time to shower?”

“No, Director Fury said it’s urgent,” it was never a good sign when Fury was involved. She quickly grabbed her water off the floor and headed for the conference room. When she entered, Fury and Maria were standing by a screen and her sister and Clint were sitting at the table. Oh, she did not have a good feeling about this.

“What’s going on?” She asked, not bothering to sit down.

“Does the Winter Soldier mean anything to you?” Of course, it did. He was one of her trainers in the Red Room but also the father of her daughter. In hindsight it was the perfect companionship; one of the Red Room’s best assassins and HYDRA’s most feared weapon. Their child would be the ultimate fighter but they didn’t need to know that.

“Yeah,” Natasha said, crossing her arms. “He’s credited for over two dozen assassinations in the last 50 years.”

“So, he’s a ghost story?” Clint questioned. She shook her head.

“I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran, somebody shot at my tires near Odessa. We lost control, went straight over a cliff,” she said, remembering every part of that day. “I pulled us out, but the Winter Soldier was there. I covered my engineer, so he shot him straight through me,” it was heartbreaking as she stared into the eyes of a man she once knew but there was no recognition in his eyes. She lifted her shirt, revealing a bullet wound on her stomach. “A Soviet slug, no rifling. Bye-bye bikinis.”

“Yeah, I bet you look terrible in them now,” Maria sarcastically said. Natasha smirked.

“Ew,” Yelena said. “He was also a trainer in the Red Room. Before my time but the guards would talk.”

“Why are we here, Fury?” Clint asked. Natasha was wondering the same thing.

“We picked up chatter that was concerning,” he nodded to Maria, who pulled up a recording and played it. The audio was all static and it was hard to hear but Natasha could make out two distinct voices and they said your name and the Winter Soldier.

“Send me there now,” she said. The audio was still playing and Maria quickly stopped it.

“Nat..”

“Don’t ‘Na’t me,” Natasha cut her girlfriend off. “When I gave her up I asked for two things; a picture once or twice a year and to be notified if she’s in danger. In return, I’d never reach out to her.”

“We need you here to run point and we are going to send Belova and Barton to look after her,” Fury instructed.

“Like hell, you are,” Natasha was slowly losing her composure. “She’s my daughter.”

“You don’t have any claim to her,” Natasha’s jaw clenched. Fury sighed. “Can I please speak with Romanoff alone?” Each one of her closest acquaintances left the room and tried to reassure her in their way but she ignored everyone. Her eyes never left the man. When the door closed, Fury sighed again.

“Natasha..”

“Don’t Nick,” she said, walking over to the man. “Don’t say another word because I’m very close to throwing you through a wall,” Fury smirked.

“I’m trying to look after you,” he said. “Your name was mentioned. It could be a trap.”

“I don’t care,” she said. “She’s my daughter even if you don’t think she is,” she saw the smallest clench of his jaw. “I hear her SOS. I will never stop marching toward her. So I’m going. You can’t stop me.” He thought about it.

“Fine,” he relented. “But Maria is coming with you as your backup.”

“Clint will run point and I want Yelena on standby if we need it.” He nodded.

“What do we tell the team?” She wasn’t sure. For the longest time, she’s kept your existence a secret to ensure your safety. But now it may have been all for tonight. No, she couldn’t think like that. You were going to be fine.

“The truth,” she said. “It’s time they know.”

“Hurry up,” your best friend called out. You giggled, running over to her. She climbed up to do the monkey bars.

“You got this Sarah,” you cheered as her arms began to shake when she reached halfway. She fell to the ground unable to go the entire way. “Nice try,” you smiled, beginning your turn. You liked the challenge of the monkey bars, the burn of your arms and hands. Unlike Sarah, you didn’t feel your arms shake and you made it all the way across. Sarah rolled her eyes.

“No fair,” she pouted. “How are you so strong?” You shrugged. It was a mystery to you and something you attributed to your biological parents. In PE class, you learned to hold yourself back even though you could beat all the kids in your class. No one wanted to be friends with the abnormally strong girl.

“I don’t know,” you said.

“Come push me on the swings,” Well besides Sarah, she didn’t care that you were stronger than her and she used it to her advantage. You smiled, running after her. She jumped onto the empty swing and you began to push her. It wasn’t long before your mind began to wander as you looked around the park. There was a small party at the pavilion and a small-sided soccer game. A few black vans were parked on the far side. You found your parents sitting at a bench speaking with a man you knew well. Agent Cruise. He was present at every birthday party and family gathering. According to your mom, he was the one that found you when your birth mother abandoned you. Why was he here?

“I’ll be right back,” you told Sarah and walked over to the trio. Agent Cruise saw you right away, a smile on his face.

“Hi firecracker,” he held out his fist and you pumped it three times then gave him a side hug.

“What are you doing here?” You asked him.

“I was in the area and I thought I’d say hi to the family.” That was a lie but you didn’t question it. If he was lying for a reason, it had to be a good one.

“Everything is fine, sweetheart,” your mom said. “Go back and play with Sarah.”

“Okay, love you guys,” you turned around to go back to the playground but a gunshot froze you in your spot. It was a sound you heard on TV and in movies and never expected to hear it in real life. A body crashed into yours pushing you into the ground as another shot went off.

“W-Will,” you stuttered.

“Eyes on me, okay?” You nodded, staring into his brown eyes. “My car isn’t far. I need you to run and I’ll cover you.”

“What about -” Your eyes found your parents, slumped against each other and blood pouring from a single shot in their head. “No,” you whispered, tears pooling at the corner of your eyes but you didn’t let them fall.

“Firecracker, run,” he got off of you and began to fire. You scrambled to your feet as he shot at a man walking towards you. His bullets made him take cover but you locked eyes with him. They were blue, similar to the color of your own eyes. His brown hair was shoulder length and half of his face was covered with a mask. But the most striking feature about him was his metal arm that shone under the California sun.

Finding his car wasn’t hard and it was unlocked when you opened the backseat. You slammed the doors closed and tried to calm your racing heart. You mimicked the breathing technique your dad would do. Breathe in for 5 seconds and hold it for 5. In for 5 seconds and out for 5. Soon your heart rate calmed down but your eyes burned with unshed tears. They died, killed right in front of you. You heard voices outside the car and you covered your mouth to keep quiet. His windows were tinted so they couldn’t see in but they would be able to hear you.

More gunshots and yelling made you yelp and the silhouettes of the men outside disappeared. You removed your hand and listened outside. Soon the car door swung open. You bite back a scream that almost left your lips. “Hey, it’s okay,” you weren’t expecting a woman with red hair and green eyes wearing a black tactical suit. You knew her. Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, and Avenger. “You're safe but I need you to come with me,” you stayed frozen, staring at the woman in front of you. “Look, we are running out of time. Please come with me.” She held out her hand and you took it, hoping you could trust her.

This wasn’t how Natasha wanted to meet you. She had so many other ways that didn’t involve your adoptive parents murdered and an assassin who happens to be your biological father hunting you. Nothing was easy for the Black Widow. “Put this on,” she handed you a helmet. “Get on,” she got on the motorcycle and she felt you get on behind her, hesitant arms wrapping around her waist. Natasha kicked up the kickstand and the engine came to life. “I got her,” she said over the comms.

“Well, you got company,” Maria said. Natasha looked behind her and saw 3 vans turning down the street; they were one and the Winter Soldier handing out the window with an AK-47. “Stick to the side streets,” she continued. “I’ll get you both back safely.” Natasha trusted Maria to do just that and started to drive.

“You have to trust me, okay? When I lean, you lean,” Natasha said over the wind. “If you don’t, they will catch us and kill you.” She wasn’t sure if you heard her until she felt your head and squeezed her waist.

“Take your next right,” Natasha let out a shaky breath and turned right. Your body leaned with hers. Okay, the Black Widow thought, maybe they’d get through this.

The motorcycle stopped and you took off the helmet. You were in an alley between 2 apartment buildings. The Black Widow got off and helped you down, your legs shook and were a little unsteady. “Come on,” she said, leading you to a door. “We can rest soon.” She opened the door and led you up 2 flights of stairs. The redhead stopped at a door, room 324, and knocked three times. It took a minute for the door to open. In front of you was a woman with black hair, pulled back into a bun. Her brown eyes were sharp but they landed on Natasha and they softened.

“Glad you're alive,” she said, stepping out of the way. You hesitated but followed the Black Widow inside the apartment.

“Did you have that little faith?” Natasha teased sitting on the couch. You could see the tension leave her body.

“What the heck is going on?” You asked. “I just watched my parents die in front of me, a mystery man with a metal man was chasing me, and an Avenger shows up,” you looked at the other woman. “I have no idea who you are or what is going on.”

“I’m Maria,” she waved, sitting down next to Natasha. It was nice to have her name but that did not answer any of your questions.

“We can’t tell you everything right now but you're safe here,” Natasha said. You stared at the redhead, the color so similar to your own. Now that you looked at the Avenger you saw a lot of your features in her.

“How can I feel safe when you won’t tell me the truth?” Her green eyes locked onto your blue ones and she looked away.

“We can’t,” she said. “Not right now.” Your jaw clenched.

“We may be here for a while,” Maria said, standing up. “I’ll show you to your room.” You continued to stare at the Black Widow, wanting her to look at you or wanting to grab her by her shoulders and yell - ‘are you my mother?’ but she wouldn’t look at you. You sighed, following Maria.

“Here you go,” it was a simple room. A bed pushed up in the corner, no TV or posters of any kind. It was a stark contrast to your room. “I know this isn’t ideal,” you skimmed your hand over the bedsheets. “But we will keep you safe.” You looked at Maria.

“She’s my mom, right?” Maria had an excellent poker face but it was a game you’ve been playing since you could talk. She was surprised by your statement so there were a few ways she could go about this; lie, tell the truth, or deflect. You were leaning towards deflection.

“There are take-out menus on the fridge, figure out what you want to eat.” Deflection. It was the easiest way, to tell the truth without betraying someone’s trust.

“Right,” you sat down on the bed. “Thanks.” She nodded.

“Come find us if you need anything,” you didn’t respond as she closed the door. You leaned against the wall, looking out the window to the street down below. People were going about their day unaware of how your life was altered forever.

“How is she?” Clint asked over the computer. They just finished a meeting with the rest of the team back in New York to come up with the next phase of the plan. She ignored Tony's thousand and one questions regarding you. Overall he seemed hurt she never told him, since ‘we’ve been through so much together.’ Natasha felt bad, they were her team, her family but sometimes the thought of you hurt too much. But a plan was made which consisted of you, Maria, and Natasha to head to Norway to lay low while the rest of the teams tracked and captured the Winter Soldier. Easier said than done. Now she was only talking with Yelena and Clint while Maria tried to get you to eat.

“She’s quiet,” Natasha knew that was to be expected. “She hasn’t said anything since Maria showed her to her room.”

“Does she know?” Yelena asked. Natasha sighed, nodding her head.

“Yeah, she asked Maria but she didn’t give her a yes or now,” You were smart, maybe a little too smart. “But I haven’t told her.”

“Are you going to?”

“Do we know how they found her?” Natasha deflected. She didn’t have an answer to Yelena’s question. Clint nodded.

“Her adoptive father got into some gambling debts,” he said. “Ripped off the wrong people.”

“But why go after her?” Yelena questioned. “Why do they want her alive?” Now Natasha knew that answer. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Her biological father is the Winter Soldier,” she told them. “That is why they are after her. If she falls into the wrong hands, she could be an unstoppable weapon.”

You couldn’t sleep. Every time you close your eyes, you saw the metal man with a gun and your parents dead at your feet. Natasha came into your room to tell you that all three of you would be leaving bright and early and to try to get some sleep. You didn’t respond as she left saying goodnight. So you lay awake, staring up at the ceiling. Finally, you sighed and stood up leaving your small room to venture into the rest of the apartment. The other bedroom was on the opposite side of the apartment but you tried to be quiet as you went through the bare kitchen. In the last drawer you opened, you found what you were looking for. A single deck of cards. You grabbed it and sat down at the dining room table. Game night was common practice that took place with you and your parents almost every night. At a young age, they taught you poker, blackjack, pitch, rummy, and spades. You never left home without a deck of cards as a simple game of poker square or solitaire could calm your racing mind. So, you set up a poker square game. It was a game of strategy, patience, and a little bit of luck unless you could count cards. Another skill your parents taught you. “Couldn’t sleep?” The Black Widow questioned. You didn’t answer, glancing up at the redhead as she got two bottles of water and sat across from you. “What are you playing?”

“Poker,” you answered.

“Poker? Aren’t you a little young to know how to play poker?” You rolled your eyes. It was the same thing said to you by every adult when they found out you could play.

“Poker isn’t just a way to gamble all the money in your pocket,” you didn’t look away from the cards. “It can teach you emotional stability in changing situations, to think analytically, and how to read people. But also how to be deceptive, you have to make everyone believe you have something in your hand when in reality you have something else,” Finally, you looked up at the Black Widow. “You’d be good at it. Your poker face is shit though.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know I thought about you all the time,” you went back to your game. “It kept me up some nights questioning why my mother gave me up. Maybe I wasn’t good enough or a mistake or she didn’t love me,” a glance up and you saw everything you needed in her eyes. They softened as her other facial features stayed stoic.

“Not your mom, kid,” she lied.

“From an emotional standpoint, sure, you aren’t. But biologically, I know I share your DNA,” you flipped the last card, placing it in the final spot. Taking a moment to look over how you did, you gathered up the cards again. “Shit poker face remember. It’s all in your eyes, they give too much away,” you shuffled the cards and began to play again. “Not that it’s a bad thing,” you added quickly, not wanting to offend the woman sitting across from you. “Just surprising,” you took a sip of water she gave you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go for it,” she said. “You can ask but that doesn’t mean I’ll answer.” Her smirk mirrored your own.

“Say we don’t share any biological relation, why would the Avengers come and save me?” You began to play again. “I'm nobody,” you said. “It would probably cost less to have them kill me,” you saw her flinch slightly at your blunt comment.

“You're not the only one he’s after,” you looked up at her.

“Why?” You questioned.

“I don’t know,” she answered. You hummed, nodding your head.

“First time you were honest with me,” you cleaned up the cards. “Goodnight, Natasha,” you took the cards and the water bottle.

“Night, kid,” her voice followed you to the room. When the door closed, you rested your back against it. Your poker face was failing. You felt the cracks. Letting out a shaky breath, you pulled back the covers and climbed in. You were surprised at how quickly you fell asleep.

Norway was beautiful. It was your first time leaving the country. You sat in the backseat of the white car with Maria in the passenger seat and Natasha was driving. You stayed quiet, playing with the charm around your neck. It was a turtle dove, a Christmas gift from Agent Cruise, who had a matching charm. You wondered if he was okay. Maria tried to make conversation asking about your likes and dislikes. You kept your answers short. Natasha drove through a dirt road through the woods and when the car emerged you saw a camper in the middle of a clearing. The driver's side window was down and you heard water. There was nothing for miles around. “It’s not much but we’ll stay safe,” Natasha said, parking the car. Maria got out and opened your door for you to get out. The wind caused goosebumps to form on your skin as you followed the couple.

The camper was simple, a couch that faced a small TV and a kitchen. Natasha walked towards the main bedroom, passing a bathroom. When she opened the bedroom door, there was a man fast asleep on top of the bed. The Black Widow hit the man on his foot, who jerked awake. “You're in our bed.”

“I’m..I’m not even under the covers,” he sat up, looking at Maria then you. “You're new. Who are you?” His voice was laced with a British accent.

“I’m not telling you,” you said, not missing the way Natasha smiled at you.

“Did you get everything on my list?” Natasha asked, walking back into the main part of the camper. You sat down on the couch as the three adults stood around the kitchen countertop.

“Got passports, entry visas, and a couple of local driver’s licenses,” he handed the couple a white envelope. “There is a generator outside. It’s petrol-powered and the septic tank will need a flush in a couple of weeks,” he spun around, leaning against the counter. He was looking at you. “You’ll have to haul your rubbish into town. It’s about a 20-minute drive,” he continued. Finally, you couldn’t help but stare at him.

“Can I help you?” You questioned. He smiled.

“No, just looking,” you rolled your eyes.

“Take a picture and it’ll last longer,” you mumbled, standing up and leaving the camper. You followed the sound of running water to a small stream. You sat on the bank and got lost in the water.

“She’s a spitfire,” Mason said, turning to face the couple. Maria picked up the envelope on the counter and hit his arm. “Ow, what was that for?” He rubbed the spot that was just hit.

“Leave her alone,” Maria said. “You're lucky I hit you and she didn’t.” Mason rolled his eyes.

“Does she know?’ He questioned. “She must, right?” Natasha walked over to the window and watched you. You were kneeling by the steam’s edge. “I mean it’s like I’m seeing double.” Mason continued.

“She does,” Natasha whispered. “Not sure how she feels about it.”

“Have you asked?” He asked, standing behind her. The Black Widow shook her head.

“She’s been through a lot. I don’t want to add more to it.”

The three of you fell into a routine. You slept on the pullout couch while Maria and Natasha were in the main bedroom. By the time the Black Widow was up for her morning run, you were up playing with the deck of cards you brought from the apartment. Maria would cook breakfast and the two Avengers spent the majority of the day doing Avenger duties, trying to help their teammates in any way. While they were doing that, you explored the surrounding woods and walked up and down the creek. When they needed to go into town, you went with them and a movie to end the night. Repeat. Repeat. And repeat. The repetition of the days wasn’t bothering you but the lack of conversation with the Black Widow was driving you insane. Maria was making an effort and you enjoyed talking and playing cards with her. Every time Maria invited Natasha but she would turn her down, coming up with a bullshit excuse. You knew what she was doing. She was building a wall between you and her. It would be fine if you didn’t catch her longing looks at you or hear Maria and Natasha fight one night when they thought you were asleep. Maria called her girlfriend out on her stand-offish behavior and Natasha claimed it was better off this way, it was only temporary.

Temporary. You were only a mission. Once the metal-armed man was dealt with you would go back home. But where was home? The only parents you knew were dead, no one spoke about Agent Cruise, and you were beginning to feel safe with the couple. Even though Natasha’s behavior was upsetting you. You wanted her to acknowledge you so were going to push her buttons.

She just got off a meeting with the other Avengers and you heard the last of it as you came back into the camper for some water. The man disappeared. There were no signs of him. Natasha sighed, closing her laptop. You stared at the Black Widow from the kitchen, finished the glass of water, and placed it on the counter. “I want to go home,” you suddenly said. Her head snapped to you, you thought she was going to give herself whiplash. “They said he’s gone so it’s safe for me to go home.”

“And where are you going to go?” She questioned. Your jaw clenched.

“Anywhere is better than here,” you mumbled, ignoring the flash of hurt across Natasha’s face and walking back outside. You heard Natasha behind you.

“You know if you go back to the States he’ll kill you,” you stopped. “That is what he’s waiting for you. He will find you and kill you.”

“Then use me as bait,” you turned to face her. “Have the Avengers stand guard, he’ll come, you’ll play hero, and we’ll go our separate ways.”

“That’s not happening,” her face was hard to read, not even you could read her eyes. She had been practicing. Shit. “Even if I thought that was a good idea, which it isn’t. You aren’t ready,” you heard a car pull up as Maria returned from a quick trip to the store. “You have no idea how to survive in this world. It will chew you up and spit you out.”

“I hate you,” you said, tears swelling in her eyes. You couldn’t help it. Natasha shook her head.

“No, you don’t. Shit poker face. Your eyes give away too much,” repeated the same thing you said to her. “Not that it’s bad, just surprising.”

“Screw you,” you snapped and ran towards the woods, ignoring Maria calling your name.

“Do I even want to know what happened?” Maria asked. Natasha put her hands on her hips and looked down at the grass.

“She wants to go home and I told her that as soon as she sets foot into the States he’ll kill her,” she sighed. “She said we could use her as bait and I may have said some other hurtful things.” Natasha heard her girlfriend sigh and walk over to her. With gentle hands, she lifted Natasha’s head to force her to look up. Green eyes stared into warm brown ones.

“Why are you pushing her away, my love?” Maria whispered, gently pushing away a tear. Natasha didn’t realize she was crying.

“This won’t last,” Natasha whispered. “Once she’s safe she’ll go back to a new family and I’ll never see her again. I can’t,” she cleared her throat. “I can’t handle growing close to her and then having her ripped away from me,” Maria brought her into a hug, cradling her head. Natasha felt her fingers run through her hair. Maria’s steady heartbeat helped the Black Widow’s heart calm down. Maria smelt like sandalwood and rain but it reminded Natasha of home. Maria stepped back, keeping her arms wrapped around her.

“But wouldn’t a little pain be worth it so you experience having her now as you’ve always dreamt about,” Maria pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. “Love her now because you have the chance to.” Natasha let out a shaky breath.

“I love you,” the Russian whispered. “I don’t think I could do this without you.” Maria kissed her softly.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby, I’m right here.”

“Kid,” you spun around to see the Black Widow behind you. You weren’t surprised she found you on a small rock near the stream’s edge. “You said you want to go home fine but I’m going to train you.”

“Train?” You questioned.

“Yes,” she crossed her arms. “Once word gets out who you are, that man won’t be the only one after you. I was right when I said you won’t survive this world so I’m going to make sure you can. I won’t always be around to save you,” she added on quickly. Her statement made your stomach drop but there was a crack in her pocket face. She was lying.

“Okay,” you whispered, instead of calling her out on it.

“Okay,” Natasha repeated. “Come on, Maria is cooking enchiladas.” You stood up, wiping the dirt off your pants, and followed the Black Widow back to the camper.

Training started the following morning. You were up when Natasha went for her run and you joined her. It's been a while since you had to use your full speed to catch up with someone. Natasha was a lot faster than your 5th-grade classmates. After you ran, it was a quick breakfast then strength training and hand-to-hand combat. Maria would stop the two of you for lunch then it was weapon training. That was your favorite. Instead of nightly movies, you spent your time watching fight sequences and going over old mission reports to enhance your battle strategy.

It has hard and back-breaking work but you loved it. It reminded you of when your dad would take you to his poker games and gave you the job of reading his opponents. No one expected a little girl to have a better poker face than a 40-year-old man. Even though Natasha was yelling orders at you, it was the closest you felt to the Black Widow. Was it the healthiest way to bond with the mother that abandoned you? No, but she and Maria were all you had. You liked the proud smile Natasha tried to hide when you did something well or Maria’s gentle hands to help clean the cuts and bruises you received from the day’s training. It was nice, you felt like a family no matter how grueling the training sessions were.

“You're holding back,” Natasha said. You were sparing with the Black Widow with Maria off to the side, watching. You were exhausted. The couple already put you through a 5-mile run and intense strength training. Natasha promised this was the last thing for the day if you managed to pin her. Easier said than done. “Come on, kid, push.”

“I’m trying,” you said, putting your hands over your head, trying to get more air in your lungs.

“When you're tired this is how you grow and learn. Now come get me,” you rushed her but Natasha grabbed your arm and threw you back to the ground. You groaned, staring up at the blue sky. “Come on get up. Do you think he’ll or anyone will let you have a break?” You huffed and stood back up. “This is how you survive. You get knocked down 100 times and you keep getting up because if you don’t you will die.” You sighed, wiping the sweat off your forehead. Think and breathe. Think and breathe. It was like a game of poker. You had to make her think you were going to do something then change your attack. Who knew your parents were training you to be an Avenger? Natasha said you were holding back so you weren’t going to. You sighed, bouncing on your toes, and sprinted towards her. She expected it since it was the same move you went for prior but when she went to grab your arm, you grabbed her and twisted it behind her back. She was quick to escape and you jumped back, creating distance between you and her. There was a smile dancing on her lips but you ignored it. You had to focus.

She made the first move and punched with her right but you blocked it with your forearm. You blocked a few of her blows and hit her a few times in the stomach. She stumbled backward and you surged forward. You grabbed one of her arms and the other went behind her neck. You turned into her, sticking your right foot into her leg, and used the momentum to fling her over your body and onto the ground. You put your knee into her chest and stared down at her. You stared at your reflection in her green eyes. You didn’t recognize the look in your blue eyes but you’ve seen it before. The man with the metal arm had the same look in his blue eyes. It scared you, seeing your eyes void of all emotions and mimicking the glare of that man. Your eyes were dark, losing the light that your parents loved so much. They were void of the color so many people envied. You were terrified of yourself.

With shaky legs, you stepped away from Natasha and Maria was already walking over. “That man who's after me, what’s his name?” You asked, trying to keep your voice from shaking. Natasha stood up and the couple had a silent conversation with one another.

“He’s called the Winter Soldier,” Maria said. “HYDRA’s deadliest assassin.” You recognized the name HYDRA, a name said in passing at one of your dad’s poker games. You looked at Natasha.

“Who is he to me?” You questioned. Her jaw clenched. “Tell me!” You demanded.

“He’s your father,” she said simply. You weren’t sure if it made it worse or better. “The Red Room decided to work along with HYDRA to create the perfect weapon,” there was a deep sadness edged in every one of her words. She looked away from you and towards the woods. Your stomach turned. You were a product of a forced relationship.

“Does he know?” Natasha shrugged.

“I don’t know,” her voice shook. “They did this horrible thing to reset him and wipe his memory. I don’t even think he remembers me,” Maria gently took her girlfriend’s hand in hers. You felt cold all of a sudden. Every one of the weird quirks that made you different now had an explanation.

“Uh okay,” you nodded your head. “I need a minute.” You turned around and walked into the camper, making a beeline for the bathroom and closing the door behind you. Your hands shook as you turned on the water and splashed water on your face. You tried to regulate your breathing; in for 5, out for 5, in for 5, and out for 5 but it wasn’t helping. Bile was rising in your throat. Did Natasha have a choice? Did they have a relationship together or was it forced? You closed the toilet seat and you sat down, your legs finally gave out.

HYDRA was a name whispered once or twice at your dad’s poker game. Your parents must have known who your biological parents were. Did they care? Did they realize the mistake they made before it was too late? You sighed, biting down on a towel and letting out a scream. You hoped the towel would muffle it.

Maria found you sitting on the couch with one of Natasha’s pistols and a timer. Like playing poker or another card game, you found that dismantling a gun and putting it back together calmed your racing mind. You glanced at the agent. “Where’s Nat?” You asked.

“Ran to the store,” you nodded. Maria sat down next to you, taking the gun from your hands. “Maybe we should talk instead of playing with a gun.”

“There is nothing to talk about,” you stared at the TV. “I mean I find out my biological mother is an Avenger and my father is a feared assassin who is trying to kill me,” you felt your throat burn as tears threatened to escape. “My adoptive parents are dead and I’m pretty sure they were the reason he found me,” you folded your hands together, squeezing them. “I finally have answers to so many questions but now I don’t want them because I feel so alone,” you sighed, angrily whipping your face. “But I’m so fucking fine.”

“Language,” she gasped. You looked at the woman and laughed at the teasing smile on her face. “I want to show you something,” she stood up and grabbed a small box next to the TV. She handed it to you. “It was part of the arrangement,” you opened the box and saw pictures of you at all stages of your life. “Natasha agreed to give you up in return she got pictures of you and was notified if you were in trouble.” Maria sighed, picking up one of the pictures. “I know it’s very hard to see but she loves you very much even if she doesn’t say it,” you closed the box, whipping away a tear that fell. “And you aren’t alone. You have us.”

“But when the mission is over, what happens to me then?” You asked.

“What do you want?” You weren’t expecting the question, not thinking you had a choice in the matter.

“I know what I want,” you answered. “But I don’t think I can have it.”

Natasha didn’t join you and Maria for dinner. She was outside, drinking from a bottle of vodka when you joined her. The only light was from the stars and the small camping light. You sat down next to her on the top of the picnic table. “Are you hungry?” You asked. “I can go get you something.” She smiled.

“Not hungry, kid, but thank you.” You nodded, watching her take another sip from the bottle.

“I’m sorry,” you told her, looking up at the stars so you couldn’t see her face. “This probably hasn’t been easy for you since I’m a constant reminder of everything. Plus I know I haven’t made it easy for you.”

“This is not your fault. I should have been honest with you from the beginning. It just,” Natasha sighed. “Hurt too much.” You nodded, that you understood. Silence fell between you and her.

“I asked Maria what was going to happen to me once the Winter Soldier situation was over. She asked what I wanted,” you looked at her. “Do you know what I want?” You asked. She shook her head. “I want to go live with you and Maria and meet the other Avengers.” The shock was evident on her face.

“Why?” She whispered.

“Because you're my mom,” you whispered back. “And I know I’ll be safe as long as I’m with you.” Natasha let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head.

“Your innocence was stolen because of all this,” she whispered, pushing some of your red hair behind your ear. “I will send out an army to find you even in the middle of the darkest nights. I will rescue you,” she whipped away a few of your tears that fell. You didn’t realize you were crying. “There is no distance that cannot be covered. I’ll be your shelter and armor. There was never a moment you were forgotten or I wasn’t thinking about you.”

“I can’t,” your voice shook. “I can’t lose any more people in my life. I think it will break me.” She pulled you into a hug and something inside you snapped. You cried. You finally cried against her.

“Sh, dorogoy (sweetheart),” Natasha whispered, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I’m right here. I won’t go anywhere.” You heard the camper door open but you didn’t move from the Black Widow’s arms. You felt the table move as Maria sat down on your other side. Without looking you intertwined your fingers with Maria. She squeezed your hand. “We won’t leave you. We are right here.” You nodded your head against Natasha. You so wanted to believe them but there was a theme of people coming into your life and leaving. Maybe you were the problem.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Maria whispered. “Let’s go to bed. We have a long day tomorrow.” You nodded, removing yourself from Natasha. ‘Along the day,’ you thought, ‘It’s been the longest few weeks of your life. What’s one more long day?’

Part 2

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