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uraveragelonelygay · 1 year

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STOP THIS WAS SO CUTE

Kinda Like You

from the New Kid series

Summary: Natasha and New Kid find they have much more in common than they originally believed.

Words: 3.5k~

Pairing: Natasha x little!Reader - Wanda x little!Reader - Wandanat x little!Reader(platonic) - Steve Rogers x Reader(platonic) - WandaNat - Wanda x Natasha

Warnings: mentions of child abuse, neglect, abandonment, tough love from Steve, misguided frustrations

A/N: Who wants to learn more about New Kid's past? Well, that's what we're doing today! This chapter is very dialogue heavy, but they are information sharing so enjoy!

“Pick your battles New Kid,” Steve calls from the side of the mat.

Y/n and Peter have been sparring for the past twenty minutes under the watchful eyes of Captain America while a few others filtered in and out. Currently, Natasha and Tony stand nearby, observing quietly as the 12 and 15 year old fight.

Y/n struggles to break out of the hold that Peter has caught her in.

“Tap out, Y/n. If you had followed through with your swing, he wouldn’t have caught you in the first place,” Steve chastises, “yield and reset.”

With a huff, Y/n taps Peter’s arm, and he releases her. The pair turn to face each other and go again.

The girl lunges for Peter. He is able to quickly dodge the attack and circle her. Before she can react, he has her in another hold. She does her best, but knows she is unable to break free. With a glance to the side, she spots Natasha and Tony whispering to each other. Skepticism clear in their faces.

Y/n sighs and taps out again.

“You always have to be thinking about the next move,” Steve walks onto the mat, “expect he will dodge, be prepared and plan for it.” He looks at Peter and nods his head to the side of the mat. The teen walks off, leaving the super soldier and New Kid in the center of the mat. “Reset.”

The girl prepares to fight her instructor, taking a deep breath to focus before the fight.

Steve attacks first, swinging for Y/n’s shoulder. The girl ducks below his arm. As he steps through the swing, she circles him and lands a kick to his back. She reaches for his arm to twist it behind his back, but he turns. With a swipe of his leg, New Kid’s back hits the mat roughly. She grimaces at the pain coursing through her.

“Always watch your feet.”

Suddenly, a scoff can be heard from the other side of the room.

Y/n turns to see Natasha’s stern look and pursed lips. They lock eyes for only a moment before the red head shakes her head and turns to the door. Steve helps the girl to her feet, and she continues to watch the widow leave the gym.

Natasha hates her. She has to. Y/n’s sure of it. Every time the widow watches her train ends this way, with a look of disapproval and a fast exit.

Actually, that is how many of their interactions end.

Natasha walks in while 12-year-old Y/n is learning mission tactics, she exits quickly.

The widow is dismantling a sniper when New Kid is given a tour of the weaponry. She can’t be more than 10. Natasha doesn’t even spare her a glance as she finishes her task.

She passes her in the gun range, she clenches her jaw and leaves silently with a full magazine.

It seems the only time Natasha can stand to be in the same room as New Kid is at mealtimes.

Y/n watches as the gym doors slide closed behind the retreating red head. She wonders what she did to make the woman hate her so and if there was anything she could do to fix it.

Suddenly an arm is entering her vision rapidly. She ducks just in time to miss Steve’s swing.

“Never take your eyes off your opponent.”

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Wanda trails kisses from Natasha’s shoulder to her neck.

“Hey,” the widow chuckles and pulls away slightly, “I am trying to watch the movie.”

The two have been curled up in Wanda’s bed watching movies all day. They’ve been together for over a year, and they’ve learned to savor the little moments they are able to hide from the rest of the world.

Wanda pauses her kisses briefly, “oh come on, you’ve seen this movie a hundred times.”

“Then why did you pick it?” she asks incredulously.

“Because you’ve seen it a hundred times,” the cheeky Sokovian responds leaning up to press her lips to the Russian’s. This time, Natasha doesn’t pull away. She deepens the kiss as the movie goes forgotten.

They lay there, kissing gently, just happy to be in each other’s arms.

…..then there’s a knock on the door.

“Ignore it,” Natasha says quickly before continuing the kiss.

Wanda shakes her head and pulls away, “I can’t. It’s Y/n; she needs something.”

The widow furrows her brows, “how do you know?”

“Her little thoughts are very loud,” the witch smiles, “I can hear them whether I’m trying to or not.”

Wanda rolls out of the bed, and Natasha groans. She pauses the movie, while the younger woman opens the door to greet little Y/n.

From the hallway, Y/n looks up to Wanda with a small smile.

The witch crinkles her nose with a grin and lowers herself to be closer to eyelevel with the girl. “Why hello, sweet girl! To what do I owe this pleasure?” She ends the question with a gentle boop on the girl’s nose.

“Can you help me put this on?” Y/n asks quietly, holding a dress out to display, “I can’t reach the buttons.” She looks down sadly, trying to hide her gaze from the witch.

Wanda quickly lifts the girl’s chin, so she is looking at her again, “hey, it’s always ok to ask for help, mala(little one). I’d love to help you.”

She stands and opens the door further for Y/n to enter. They only make it three steps into the room before the girl spots Natasha sitting on the bed.

Y/n stands still under Natasha’s gaze. Obviously, she has interrupted something. She shouldn’t be here. She can’t ask for help in front of Natasha. Not when it is very clear that the assassin already doesn’t like her. She is overcome with a large wave of nervousness.

From the bed, Natasha watches Wanda welcome New Kid into the room. The sight of her hits the widow like a truck. It’s the youngest Natasha has ever seen Y/n drop.

Natasha smiles to the girl, “Hey New Kid.”

“Hi,” Y/n shifts on her feet uncomfortably, then looks up to Wanda.

The Sokovian smiles and ushers her to her connected bathroom. “Here,” she takes the child’s hand, “lets go in here to get you changed.”

The two of them slip into the bathroom leaving Natasha alone in the bedroom while Wanda helps Y/n change out of her current clothes and into the dress.

All alone, Natasha tries to think of why seeing Y/n had such an impact on her.

The girl looked to be about 6, definitely the youngest Natasha has ever seen her drop. After a minute of thinking it suddenly makes sense.

She reminds her of Yelena.

The bathroom door opens. The pair reenter the room and sure enough, Y/n looks about (if not exactly) the same age as her sister was right before they left Ohio.

The nostalgia brings a lump to Natasha’s throat. She’s able to fight it back, but that proved difficult. When she looks at the girl in front of her, all she can see is her sister. The sister she never saw again.

“Wow! I love your dress!” the redhead beams, “where’d you get a dress that pretty?”

Y/n stands shyly with her folded clothes in her arms, “Clint gave it to me.” Quickly, the little girl thanks Wanda and makes an escape from the room and the gaze of Natasha.

She’s gone before either of them can say anything.

“What happened?” Natasha asks.

Wanda can only shrug.

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“You should go ask Y/n if she wants to watch with us,” Wanda says from her spot on the couch.

Team movie night would be starting in about 30 minutes. Wanda always liked to be the first one there, so she could claim the “cuddliest couch” before anyone else. It also heightens her chances of being first to pick the movie.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Natasha looks at her girlfriend skeptically, “the movies we typically watch aren’t exactly age appropriate. We don’t want to give the kid nightmares.”

Wanda swipes the remote off the coffee table and smirks, “that’s why I will be picking the first movie. Besides, she’s not that little right now. Her thoughts aren’t loud enough.”

The widow sighs, “Why don’t you go get her? I’ll save your seat. She’ll most likely say yes to you. She’s scared of me.”

“She’s not scared of you-“

“We both saw how she was yesterday,” Natasha states, “she froze when I said hello. She’s terrified of me.”

Wanda reaches for her girlfriend’s hand, “she’s just timid and unsure. Once she warms up to you, you’ll see. She’s the sweetest kid. You just got to coax her out of her shell.” She kisses Natasha’s hand before pointing to the door.

“Go, it’ll be good for both of you.”

Natasha makes her way down the hallway until she reaches Y/n’s door. She knocks, but never gets a reply. After a minute, she knocks again, but still hears nothing.

She presses her ear to the door. A sniffle and a whimper float through the air. The widow pushes open the door and taps lightly, “Y/n?” She calls softly not to scare the girl. “You alright?” She pauses to wait for a response. “I’m coming in, ok?”

Natasha takes a cautious step into the room, and she has to pause for a second.

Aside from the array of clothing Clint had given the girl, there is no sign that a child lives in this room. Maybe Y/n prefers it, but it just reminds Natasha of how she grew up in a place where she was punished for being a kid. Every child should have at least some toys, even one who turns back into an adult.

Natasha follows the sniffles that lead her to the bathroom door. “I can hear you crying. Is there something wrong?”

“Something I could help you with?” Natasha taps on the closed door, and it gives under the pressure.

The door slowly swings open and reveals Y/n standing in front of the mirror with red eyes and a brush in her hand. Her hair is tangled into a large mat near the back of her head. The look on Y/n’s face is all Natasha needs to know the poor thing has been trying to brush it out for who knows how long.

The girl sniffles, “I took a nap, and it was like this when I woke up.” Her lip quivers, “it won’t come out.”

The older woman smiles lightly, “may I?” She holds out her hand for the brush. The girl sighs defeatedly and relinquishes the brush. Natasha places her hands on the girl’s shoulders and squeezes comfortingly. She smiles to Y/n through the mirror and begins to silently brush her hair.

Its quiet again. The only sound passing between them is the brush gently dragging through Y/n’s hair.

Y/n looks into the mirror, watching the older woman intently. She feels small, smaller than she is now. Maybe it’s the widow’s intent focus on her hair or her gentle touch or the complete contrast to the woman’s previous demeanor around her, but whatever it is makes Y/n have to fight the urge to drop younger.

She was 7 when she took her nap, and 13 when she woke up in this dilemma. With how she’s feeling right now, there is no way she would be able to pick how small she dropped. So she just fights it until it fades.

Natasha’s soft touch is comforting her more and more with every pass of the brush. It soothes Y/n enough that she can break the silence.

“Why are you helping me?”

The older woman briefly connects eyes with Y/n through the mirror. She smiles and looks back to her work, “because we’re teammates. Teammates help each other.”

The girl chews on her lip, “but you don’t like me.”

Natasha comes to a complete halt, and she looks to Y/n again. Her face is mixed with confusion and concern, “that’s not true, myshka(little mouse). Why do you think that?” She places her hands on the girl’s shoulders in a way she hopes in comforting.

It does comfort Y/n some, but she still feels nervous to answer her. She knows she will have to eventually, so she might as well get it over with. “You don’t want me to be here. You’re always mad to see me.”

Natasha’s face floods with more confusion.

“You always leave whenever I’m around, like when I’m training, and I lose or when you see me in my lessons, especially weapons you get mad….” Y/n pauses looking up to Natasha with big doe eyes, “did I do something wrong?”

“No,” the widow quickly answers, “no myshka(little mouse), you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Then why do you hate being around me?”

Natasha sighs and continues brushing out the tangles in Y/n’s hair. She understands why the little girl thinks what she thinks, and she knows why she is wrong. The misunderstanding is entirely her fault. She’s just not sure how to explain it to the girl.

She takes a deep breath to center her thoughts, “I don’t hate being around you. Sometimes I just get upset because you just remind me of my past.” She smiles sadly to the girl through the mirror. “I don’t know how much they’ve told you about me, but I grew up in a place that was not very good.”

“The Red Room,” Y/n states.

Natasha nods, “yes, that’s right. The Red Room was a very bad place. They took little girls from their families and trained them to be killers. They made us learn how to fight, how to follow someone, how to shoot, how to do all of it without being seen…. They even… they made us…they made us fight and kill each other.”

Once the widow is sure there are no more tangles in the girl’s hair, she parts it down the middle and begins braiding to keep her hands busy as she continues.

“I left that place because it turned little girls into weapons. I wanted to join a team that was actually trying to do good. Then I see cute little you training just like we did in the Red Room. The reason I get upset is because it makes me think that we’re no better than them.”

Natasha smiles into the mirror catching little eyes with her own, “that’s why I acted that way. It’s not your fault, myshka(little mouse). I’m so sorry I made you feel like it was or that I didn’t want you here.” She continues her braiding, “I think you’re gonna be good member of this team, once we get you ready.”

Y/n watches Natasha intently while she thinks of what to say, “you and me are kinda the same.”

Though she doesn’t look up from her braiding, the older woman is intrigued by the girl’s comment, “what do you mean?”

“I came from a bad place too,” Y/n explains, “now I’m here, so I can help people.”

“Where are you from?”

“Upstate,” the girl answers matter of factly. She’s not sure how much of her story she should tell. She trusts Natasha, especially after she just spoke of her own childhood. On the other hand, no one knows about how the girl grew up, not even Fury.

Natasha hums, asking Y/n to continue.

“I was engineered,” the girl says as if she is saying ‘the sky is blue’.

The widow freezes, looking up to the girl in shock, “what?”

Y/n suddenly feels small again, but still she continues, “I was engineered in a test tube. Then I was transferred to an artificial womb until I was developed enough to live on my own.”

She twiddles her thumbs, unable to look up at the widow, “They were trying to make a shape shifter like you all thought I was. They tried to alter my DNA, but whatever they did, I think they did it too late. I already had too many cells with my normal DNA. I think that’s why I can only go back. All of me can shift except the cells that came from the ones from my conception.”

Hearing Y/n speak so maturely when she appears barely 13 throws Natasha for a bit. She has to remind herself that Y/n still has an adult brain in there.

“They kept me in their lab,” Y/n continues, “they would do these experiments on me. They would hurt sometimes, a lot of times. They kept trying to figure out where they went wrong. They were trying to fix me.”

Natasha clenches her jaw. She feels a rage she hasn’t felt in a very long time, and she makes a promise to herself that she will never let anyone harm this girl again.

The girl can sense the anger in the older woman, and it has her shrinking in on herself. “Are you mad?”

“Very.”

A breath catches in Y/n’s throat, and Natasha’s thoughts are pulled out of her anger to take in the girl in front of her. The fearful look has returned to Y/n’s face again. The widow kicks herself mentally.

“but not at you,” she reaches a hand out to pick up the girl’s chin, “myshka(little mouse), look at me please. I’m not mad at you. I promise.” She waits quietly until Y/n nods. Natasha smiles warmly, “Good girl. Now, I need you to tell me who had you? What agency?”

Y/n shakes her head, “there wasn’t an agency. It was just my parents… well, the scientists that called themselves my parents.”

“They lived somewhere else, away from the lab. They would go home at night and leave me in the lab.” The girl sighs heavily, “I never left the lab, until I escaped when I was 14. One night after they went home, I broke out of my room. I grabbed as many files about me I could find, and then I left.”

“…and you’ve been on your own since then?”

Y/n nods, “but now I’m here, and you’re gonna teach me how to help people right?” This time Natasha is the one to nod. The girl smiles, “then this much better than the Red Room, and you all are much better than my parents.”

Her words bloom a sense of calmness in Natasha’s chest. She’s just about done with the second braid.

“You know you’re lucky,” the older woman plays with the baby hairs at the base of the girl’s head. She tickles her there until she gets a giggle, “we may not have had good childhoods, but you get a second chance to be a kid.”

Y/n looks up, entirely enraptured by Natasha’s words.

“Not many of us have that chance.” In this moment, the widow can feel a soft spot in her heart that wasn’t there before. A spot that now belongs to Y/n, “its ok to be little around us. I know you’re an adult, but its ok to be a kid. We want you here either way. Definitely me, Wanda and Clint, the rest of them team hasn’t quite caught up yet, but they’re on their way, trust me. You don’t have to hide in your room anymore. Ok?”

Y/n nods with a large grin. She has a new understanding of Natasha. She especially can feel the start of a new friendship. Its hard to believe that just a month or so ago she had no one, no friends. Now, she has three and hopefully more to come.

Being caught stealing by the Avengers might just be the best thing that has ever happened before.

“All done,” Natasha says while she wraps a hair tie to the end of the second braid. She lays the braid down the girl’s shoulder, “what do you think?”

Y/n takes in the sight of her two French braid pigtails and smiles widely. She looks up to the widow who sports her signature one French braid, and she smiles even wider. “Hey, I look kinda like you!”

Natasha chuckles, “yeah, you do New Kid.” She rests her hands on the girl’s shoulders, “there’s about to be a movie night in about 5 minutes, would you like to join us?” She steps into the doorway, outstretching a hand for Y/n to take.

The girl happily takes her hand and follows her lead. As they walk through the halls, their hands swing lightly in between them.

"If you'd like," Natasha proposes, "I could train with you sometime. I'm a much better fighter than Steve anyway." She playfully nudges the girl's side. "I could teach you how to kick his butt."

Y/n smirks, "I think I'd like that."

"Me too."

When the two of them enter the common area hand in hand, they receive more than a few confused glances from the team, except for Wanda who just looks ecstatic. They take their seats. Natasha sits on the couch with Wanda, and New Kid claims the chair nearby.

As the widow settles into her girlfriend’s side, she whispers in Wanda’s ear, “you were right.”

The witch gives her a quizzical look.

“She really is the sweetest kid.”

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A few days later, and New Kid is already doing better. She’s coming out of her room more. She almost always gravitates towards Wanda or Natasha, which is fine by them. Each little interaction with a team member outside of training is making her feel a tiny bit more comfortable around the compound.

It’s not all that much, but a little progress is still progress.

One morning, Y/n opens her door to go to breakfast and nearly steps on a teddy bear sitting in the hallway. The sight of the toy has her itching to drop, but she’s dropped enough recently to control it. She remains her true age as she picks up the bear. Attached to the toy is a note with her name on it.

She fondly holds the bear tight to her chest as she reads the message.

Y/n, Just a reminder that its ok to be a kid. Its ok to want to do kid things. When I was in the Red Room, I wished I had a teddy bear even though toys were strictly forbidden. I thought you might like one too. Since, I’m kinda like you. -Natasha

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I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think down in the comments below. Also, if you have any ideas for what you would want to read, let me know!

As always, thank you so much for reading and for all your support. Much love!

-k

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Taglist: @battleg03 @thelittlewolfofaretuza @emiivey @dylanobriens-love @madelineleong @sluttyforfemaleavengers @santana1437 @thatonementallyillsimp @oliveoilpenguiny @you-are-beautifully-gorgeous @charcharslide-3 @anon1412 @universallypoetrycheesecake @mary-jinx @princess-kennys-rats @marvel-fan-2021 @ameeelia07 @kneelforloki @ornorr @prettysbliss @nattyolw @yukonasf @thursdayygrrrl @rach2602@ace-of-gay @casualbisexualfroggo @nyctophiliacatcher @ripofflizzie @chrisevansangel @randomnessbecausewhynot @lizlil @uselessastheginlasagnaa @m-h-r-h

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#fic recs #fic rec

1K notes · View notes

uraveragelonelygay · 2 years

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i wanna writeeeeeee

maybe i’ll actually take a crack at a request or two tonight🫣

what are we thinking? jade west or some wandanat?

#lisa chats

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uraveragelonelygay · 2 years

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YES IM SO GLAD ITS BACK I MISSED THIS SERIES!!!! SUPER EXCITED TO SEE WHATS IN STORE FOR SEASON TWO!!!

Sugar Mommies Season 2, Pt:1

My finger slipped…whoopsie…

Hi my loves! Welcome back to my Sugar Mommies Universe and a big welcome back to our lovely Trio!❤️

Updates (hopefully) will be every Sunday, 9pm GMT time (UK) unless I state otherwise.

I’ll still use my old tag list, so hopefully it’ll work! If you’d like to be tagged, comment below and let me know❤️

My work is for 18+ and over. No minors allowed.

Hope you all enjoy

Love,

Livvy

❤️💋❤️💋

Keep reading

#fic recs #fic rec

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uraveragelonelygay · 2 years

Text

this fic feels like the warmest of hugs and makes me feel so safe🥺 i love it🥺

stay with me

wanda maximoff/reader

tags: no smut, depressed reader, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, no plot, really rushed ending

w/c: 1.5k

summary: you’re having a really bad day so wanda stays home to take care of you

*not my gif*

“Baby?” You could hear Wanda crack open the door even though you had your back turned. “Are you awake yet?”

You didn’t answer, just laid still, pretending like you hadn’t been lying awake staring at the wall for nearly two hours. The door opened wider, letting more light into the room, and you heard Wanda approach the bed.

“I’m leaving for work soon,” she whispered. You closed your eyes as you felt her push down on the mattress. “I love you,” she said even more quietly, leaning down to kiss your cheek softly.

You weren’t sure why it was taking her so long to leave. Not because you wanted her to go away —you’d actually much rather have her around — but because you didn’t want to bother her with your feelings before work, didn’t feel like burdening her with your sadness when she had better and more important things to deal with.

“Hey, sweetheart?” Wanda asked, hand settling lightly on your shoulder. You gave up the act, unable to resist her soft voice and warm touch, and turned your head to look at her. “What’s wrong?”

Giving your best awake impression of your half-asleep voice, you mustered up a reply. “Nothing,” you lied.

“You can tell me,” she assured you, a frown tugging at her lips. “I know something’s up, your cheeks are wet.”

Fuck.

“I’m okay, really,” you insisted. “I don’t want you to be late.”

Wanda just shook her head. “Tell me, my love, what’s going on?”

“I feel bad today,” you said slowly, unsure how to even explain the way you were feeling. It was just bad. “My brain hurts and I feel heavy all over and…”

“Bad brain day,” Wanda said, mostly to herself. “I understand.”

She laid down behind you and wrapped her arms around you. Something about the way she was moving seemed hesitant and almost too careful. You could tell she was scared to get too close in case it made something worse.

The ache settled deeper in your chest and you leaned back into Wanda, silently pleading for her to hold you just a little bit tighter. An unspoken ‘please don’t be afraid, I need you.’

“In a few minutes I’ll call work and tell them I won’t be coming in,” Wanda said.

You would have argued but she sounded sure, and you didn’t have the energy to combat the firm tone she was taking with you — especially not when you needed her.

She kept you close against her, arms around you and legs entwined with yours, while she kissed your hair. She was whispering, but you couldn’t quite catch what she was saying as her lips moved to your neck and cheek, your shoulder and your back.

The longer you were with her the more grounded you felt — it wasn’t that you were suddenly cured of your emotional ailments, but that they seemed just a little bit more manageable.

Eventually you mustered up enough courage to turn over, squirming around in Wanda’s arms until you came face to face with your girlfriend.

“Hello there, sweetheart,” Wanda whispered, offering you a soft smile.

Her hand came up to brush hair out of your face and settled on your cheek. Your eyes slipped shut and you nuzzled into her hand as you grew less tense beside her.

“Thank you for letting me lay with you,” Wanda said quietly. “I’m glad you trust me with this, my love.”

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, feeling tears threatening to fall.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for,” Wanda said surely. “I love you so much, baby, I want to take care of you.” “But your work,” you protested, eyes opening to look at Wanda.

“Shh, baby, I’m here to take care of you today, end of discussion.”

You ceded. The energy you would have used for such a futile protest was being used elsewhere and, honestly, you wanted her around.

You moved in closer to Wanda, pressing your nose against hers. She scrunched up her nose and smiled at you, then she leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss against your lips. As soon as she’d kissed you once, she couldn’t stop, and suddenly your face was being attacked with soft pecks and kisses.

She managed to coax a giggle from your lips, which then turned into you both laughing loudly, tickling each other and trying your best not to knock your teeth together too hard in the process. You could see how Wanda was being extra careful with you, which was normally something you hated, but today it was okay. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just let yourself be coddled for once.

Once Wanda was satisfied – after you’d collapsed beside her and allowed her to kiss you all over – she pulled you back into her arms. Your head fell into place right on her chest at the sweet spot where you could hear her heartbeat. It was especially loud seeing as she’d just spent the past 10 minutes messing around with you, and it was somehow even more comforting that way.

The smell of Wanda’s perfume was strong, and you breathed it in deep. On your exhale, you felt more tears fall. You weren’t sure why, and you wished they wouldn’t, but they did anyway. Wanda felt them on her skin and pulled away from you enough to see your face.

“Baby,” she pouted, soft hands making quick work of drying your cheeks. “It’s okay, my love, let it out.”

Her voice was so soft and so comforting – like a blanket fresh out of the dryer – and suddenly you were crying. Really crying.

Wanda pulled you against her like you’d been before and rubbed your back as you sobbed. You felt no shame or embarrassment like you’d expected you would. Instead you felt safe and cared for. It was a welcome feeling, though foreign, and it had everything to do with Wanda and her deep love for you.

She laid with you, letting you cry until you couldn’t anymore as she smoothed her hand over your back and cooed at you. Once you were done, hiccupping and breathing heavily, she kissed your forehead.

“I’m so sorry you’re feeling this way, sweetheart,” she whispered. You just shook your head and rubbed your eyes. “Thank you for letting me sit through this with you.”

“Wanda,” you whispered.

“Yes, my love?”

“Will you stay with me all day?” You asked quietly, unsure if you wanted to hear her answer.

“Of course.” She smiled at you. “Only thing is I have to get my phone,” she said slowly, making no move to get up. “Would you like to stay here or would you like to come?”

“Can I come?” I don’t want to be alone.

“Of course you can, honey,” Wanda said. “Gonna get up and change into something more comfortable, then I’ll take you with me, sound good?”

You nodded, appreciative of her attention to your needs in the moment. Telling you what she was about to do, speaking slowly and not asking too many questions, being there with you, it was starting to make you feel warm in spite of the bad feelings. You were hurting, but at least she was there to help you through it.

She got out of bed slowly, careful to only stay right near the bed so you could keep her in your eyeline. She changed quickly into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, tossing her jewelry onto the bedside table in the process. As soon as she was done, she came back over to the bed and scooped you into her arms, ignoring your protests and telling you to relax and let her take care of you.

Once in the living room, Wanda plopped you down on the couch.

“Give me one second, my love, I promise I’ll just be in the kitchen making a phone call and I’ll be back,” she explained.

A blanket was then laid gently over you and the tv remote was set in your lap before Wanda disappeared around the corner.

You could hear the muffled conversation from where you sat, but still you felt desperately lonely, so you stood carefully and wandered into the kitchen. Your bare feet were quiet on the cold hardwood, so Wanda nearly startled when she turned around and saw you standing in the doorway.

“I have to go, thank you so much… yes, I’ll see you,” Wanda said into the phone. She hung up and walked over to you. “Are you alright?”

You just nodded and stepped closer to her, leaning into her body and letting her pull you into her arms.

“Needed a hug?” You nodded again. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she said softly. A kiss was placed on your head as her hand rubbed your back gently. “I’ll take care of you today, okay? I won’t leave your side again, I promise.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, pressing your face into her neck.

“Of course, baby, I’m here for whatever you need, alright? Just want to help you feel better.”

#fic recs #fic rec

1K notes · View notes

uraveragelonelygay · 2 years

Text

this chapter was SO GOOD and I personally would like to punch Sherry in the face <3

Sixteen Candles Chapter 11

Sixteen Candles

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Mama!Natasha Romanoff x Mama! Wanda Maximoff x Teen!Reader

Follow my reblog page @natsxaddiction2 for updates

TW: mentions child abuse and sa of a minor

W/c: 7.4k

Your fingers blindly felt around the bed for your phone, a groan leaving your lips as the alarm blasted through the speakers, your face pressed against the pillows as you tried to ignore it and keep the last remnants of sleep. It’s the first of many alarms, and when you click the tiny volume button on the side of your device, you know it's useless to try and fall asleep again. You lift your head, squinting your eyes to adjust to the bright light of your phone, noticing that it’s only six am. The color drained from your face when you saw the number of notifications you had. Twenty missed calls, dozens of text messages, and even a note from your Facebook that you didn’t know anyone knew. You read who they’re from, your heart dropping when you realize what precisely all of this means.

They know. Everybody knows. You’re a bit surprised that your sisters have called. A part of you is glad to see that they care enough to inquire about you; the other part knows they’re only trying to be nosy. Faith is the only one of your sisters you know to be a bit genuine in her efforts. She’s the nicer of your sisters. Faith is the closest to you in age, so it’s always been easy to talk to her. That was the case until both of you hit puberty. You sit up enough to respond to her text.

Hey, y/n, please text me back. I heard what happened and would like to know if you’re okay. I’m sorry. Please call me.

You read over her message a few times before you reply. Your fingers tap against the screen expertly.

I’m okay. Thanks.

Your reply is short and to the point. You don’t think you can talk to any of them right now. You don’t want them poking and prodding. You don’t want to relive the most intimate details of your life to people who haven’t shown interest before. If you talk to them about it, it only makes things worse. With questions come accusations. Accusations mean the blame will be put somewhere, and you know it won’t be on the perpetrator. It’s on you, not Dave. You should have spoken up sooner. You should have said no; Fought harder.

Deciding that you don’t have the gall to deal with any of this right now, You set the phone down on your nightstand before pulling yourself out of bed. Everything in you screams at you to crawl back under the covers and hide from the world, but you can’t do that. You have your first official day of in-person school. It’s time to face the music or something like that. You shuffle across the hall to your bathroom. You stretch, reaching your hands up towards the ceiling before you bend over to touch your toes. Most mornings, Natasha would do yoga, which seems to work for you. You don’t have the energy to do any other form of exercise, so you settle for this. With a yawn, you reach for your toothpaste, dropping a dab onto your toothbrush before you begin to brush your teeth. You silently count thirty seconds on each side. Like a lot of things since you’ve been here, you’re getting better at hygiene habits. It’s not like you haven’t always known you needed to brush your teeth. You’re not dumb. It’s just a lot of things your birth mom assumed were common sense and not something that needed to be taught. Here Wanda and Natasha show you everything. They make sure to give you clear instructions and gentle praises. Everything you didn’t know you needed before you got here.

You can hear Natasha and Wanda in their bedroom just outside the door. They’re always awake before you. You can listen to soft mumbling, their bedroom door is open, but you don’t care to investigate. Instead, you turn on the shower, fixing the knob to the hottest setting, before you strip. As you climb in, you walk past the mirror, avoiding looking at your naked body.

You wash quickly in hopes of getting through this part of the day. It’s the easiest. You use your favorite soap, lathering it against your skin, before starting with your arms. You skate over your midsection, avoiding any lingering before you move on to the next section. You think about the times after being with Dave when you would sit in the shower for longer than necessary. You would scrape and scrub until you practically got rid of the layer he touched. For so long, even the simple act of bathing yourself was too hard. You were young and still are, but back then, you were afraid to touch your own body or look at it. You never understood what was so good about it to make him want you that way while also managing to hate it yourself. You step out of the shower and rush to the closet to get dressed when you are done. Your fingers trail along the sweaters and jeans hung up in the closet. You really should have picked everything out last night. The first day of school is here for you. Even though it’s three months into the school year, your homeschool extension is up.

You decide on a simple outfit. Black graphic Thriller tee, a black and red plaid shirt, ripped jeans, and your favorite pair of white converse. Hopefully, it comes across as you not trying too hard. You tug your sweater over your head when there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in,” You call out softly to whoever is on the other side of the door. You already know who it is, and when red tresses come into your line of view, you give a slight smile that you hope is convincing.

Natasha enters, giving you a once over before she sits on the edge of your bed. You lean down to tie your laces before you sit next to her.

“How are you feeling?” Natasha raises her hand to smooth down stray hairs on your head. You curl into her touch, allowing yourself to revel in the calm she brings as you think over your following words.

“I’m fine, I guess,” You shrug. “Do I have to go to school?” You ask one last time. Maybe this time she’ll feel sorry for you and say you don’t have to go.

“You do,” She drops her hand to her lap. “Listen,” Natasha breathes. She looks down to her feet before looking into your eyes. “The police have contacted your family. They’re bringing Dave in for questioning today.” There’s no other way for her to say it.

You wish she would have waited to tell you this. Even if you already knew. The idea of everyone knowing your secret scares you. Everyone will know what he did to you. They will judge you before ever hearing your side of the story. Suddenly your mouth feels dry, and you get the overwhelming urge to throw up. Your earlier anxiety for the school day is masked by something else entirely. Natasha lies her hand over yours, offering you her silent comfort before she pulls you into her arms. You tuck your head into her neck and breathe slowly.

“I want to make sure no one has tried to contact you,” Natasha inquires. She wants to ensure they’re not trying to intimidate or scare you. That’s the last thing anyone needs out of this situation. You shake your head. There’s no sense in telling her about all the missed calls you’ve received. That’s another thing to add to their plate and some things you need to handle on your own. It’s no big deal. It’s just your family and nothing you couldn’t already handle. For some reason, Natasha doesn’t seem to believe you, but she doesn’t push. She’s taking your word for it. With how far you’ve come, she can only hope you know you can go to her.

“He’s going to deny it,” You whisper. “He’ll say things.” You mutter. He’ll tell people that you wanted it. He’s only ever repeated it to you a dozen times.

“I know he will, and we are counting on it,” Natasha says. “I know this is scary. All of this. I know it’s painful, but I need you to remember none of this is your fault. None of it.”

You take a while before replying. The corners of your mouth are downturned as you press yourself further into her arms. You could stay here all day if she allowed it. Something about her and Wanda eases your soul. In the beginning, it was an uncomfortable feeling. Their touches and affection were unwanted. You couldn’t tell the difference between that and what Dave did. You’ve only ever known one kind of touch, and it was never good. It always meant you had no choice in what happened to your body. So when you came here, not allowing them to get close meant you had control. Now you’re sitting here in Natasha’s arms, and you don’t think the same way. Something in you is sated whenever she holds you. You feel like you can breathe when her arms circle your waist. You came here, and they showed you that touches could be good. There’s no ulterior motive for them. They didn’t want you in that way. It’s completely innocent, and you’re beginning to understand the difference more and more each day.

You bring your fingers up to trace along Natasha’s collarbone in an almost childish move. Her skin is warm against your fingertips. She feels like home.

“Okay,” You say simply. You can pretend you’re okay for a little bit longer. You’re used to it. “You’re going to pick me up from school?”

“I have something at work but Mama will,” Natasha answers, her tone apologetic, as she pulls back to look into your eyes. “If you feel you need to come home at any point, you call us. I know you don’t want to in the first place, but I think you owe it to yourself to try.”

You think Natasha is right. You've been holed up with them for four months. The only places you go are doctor’s appointments, the library, home, and maybe a walk around the neighborhood with Louis. It's not a good quality of life to isolate yourself. You nod, take another deep breath, and decide you’re ready.

Over on the nightstand, your phone begins to ring again, and you look over at it. You listen to it vibrate against the deep brown wood.

Who could call you this early morning? Natasha tilts her head. You don’t have an answer for her. She’ll become suspicious if you let it ring too long, so you walk over to the device and answer it.

You breathe a sigh of relief when you realize it’s Riley. Another wave of anxiety hits you when you press the green button. What if she knows too? You wait for the facetime call to connect, your heart beating a mile a minute in your chest before her face comes into view. It’s clear and free of any makeup. You can see the green tank top on her torso and the scarf around her hair. She’s not even ready for school yet.

“Hey,” She greets, and you greet back with a similar tone.

“Hey,”

“I’ll let you two talk,” Natasha excuses herself from your bedroom.

“You’re getting ready for school?” Riley asks as she sets her phone against something on her bathroom counter. You watch as she begins to put on the tiniest amount of makeup. She has an assortment of items that's quite impressive. You don’t own much, so this part of her routine intrigues you. She begins by washing her face, and you can’t help but stare. You think she looks beautiful, but you don’t say it. You don’t want her to be creeped out by any of it.

“Yeah, I’m pretty much ready,” You kick your feet against the bed. “My mama made breakfast, but I don’t think I’ll eat it.”

“Why?” Riley pauses for a second to look at the camera. “You need to eat something.”

“I’m kind of nervous,” You admit. You can trust Riley with your feelings. You can trust her with your secrets. Well, most of them. “I wish we were going to school together.”

“I know me too,” Riley gives a pout. “I think it will be fine, though. You will make new friends. New classes. It’s something to do so you’re not bored at home. They probably have good-looking guys in your school.” It’s not lost on you that Riley makes it a point to mention boys you could date whenever you're around her. You’re unsure what it means.

“I don’t have time for dating right now,” You dismiss. She makes a face at that. What was that for?

“Oh,” Riley nods to herself. She turns away from the camera for a second to grab something you can’t see. “What are you wearing? Show me,” Riley decides to change the topic. You stand, propping your phone up against a pile of books, before you stand with your arms out. You do a slow spin before turning back to her. “You look cute.” She compliments, and you blush.

“Thank you,” You bite your lip. “Are we still hanging out after school?”

“Yeah, of course,” Riley picks up the phone again to carry you into her bedroom. “I have to do something with my mom, but after, I can come by. We could study together?”

“Sounds good,” You hide your excitement at the idea of her coming over. It gives you something to look forward to. You glance at the time on your screen before sighing. “I have to go, but I’ll text you okay?”

“Yeah,” Riley looks into the camera. “Have fun!” She gives you a small wave before hanging up the phone. You tuck your phone into your back pocket and grab everything you need for school: your phone charger, backpack, new notebooks, and pens. You go downstairs to the kitchen, where Wanda and Natasha are already eating breakfast. You make yourself a plate with the tiniest portions before sitting down with them. There’s not much to talk about today. You aren’t in the mood. They both understand that, so they engage in small talk amongst themselves.

As the time to leave draws nearer, you can feel the anxiety again. Your fingers feel a bit numb as you climb into the backseat of the car. They’re both dropping you off this morning. The drive is relatively short, and you arrive with a couple of minutes to spare. You're a bit confused when Natasha parks the car in a parking spot. They both turn around to look at you.

“Do you have everything?” Wanda’s accent is thick and concerned as she looks you over. You dip your head in confirmation. Your eyes float to the school in front of you. It’s enormous, almost like one giant apartment building. The yellow brick has been power washed recently, and the stone steps out front are littered with people. Some students dangle, waiting for the last minute for the bell to ring before they enter the school.

“Remember, Malysh. If you need to come home, we will come,” Natasha reminds you. “Try to have a good day.”

“Okay,” You nod again before you reluctantly unbuckle your seat. You lean forward, offering them kisses on the cheek before you climb out of the car. You didn’t need them to come inside. Not when they’re such a high-profile couple. That would only cause a scene and draw more attention, and that’s the last thing you need. If you blend in, maybe you can get this year over with pain-free. You approach the front doors of your school, waiting in line to go through the metal detectors when you think about your first class. You came the day before to enroll and get everything out of the way. You already know where your locker is, so you head straight there when you make it through the doors. You dump your backpack into the small storage space before closing it shut softly. You turn around, your eyes fluttering every way before heading to your homeroom.

You find class 233 on the opposite side of the building, and it’s quite a walk. Maybe you’ll get used to it with time. Everyone is already seated, with more students trickling in when you step inside. You take a deep breath before approaching your teacher’s desk.

“Hi,” You greet. “I’m y/n y/l/n. I’m new.” You introduce yourself, and she nods her head. Mrs. Wright reaches out her hand for you to shake, and you do.

“You can find a seat anywhere you’d like,” She gestures to the rest of the room where most eyes are on you. You’re the new kid so, of course, everyone is curious. “Everyone, this is Y/n. She’s a transfer student from Queens.”She announces to the classroom. Your eyes scan the room for a millisecond before finding an empty seat three rows back. You quickly sit down, wanting to shrink, as you almost trip over your feet. “I will need someone to show her to her next few classes and help her out this week to get her caught up.”

Beside you, a young girl with fresh braids and an impeccable manicure raises her hand.

“Yes, Monet? Are you volunteering?” Mrs. Wright looks relieved that someone is stepping up to the plate.

“I am,” Monet nods. She smiles at you before looking back to the front of the room.

“That’s settled then,” Mrs. Wright walks over to the board. “So today, we are beginning our time capsule.” She announces. “For those of us unaware of what that is. We are making something for the future us to remember us by.” She picks up a small metal lunch box. She gently pushes it open to reveal several items inside. You sit up straighter stretching your neck to see, much like everyone else in the classroom. “You can put whatever you want into your box and get creative. Your favorite candy wrapper, your favorite song lyrics, your favorite cd.” Before any of the students can correct her, she raises her hands. “I know, I know, no one carries CDs anymore.” She grins. “Think about what you want to put in here and how you want to be remembered.” She discusses what's not appropriate to put in the box. “At the end of the year, we will open them and see how much has changed.” She sets the lunchbox down. The bell rings again, and this time, homeroom is over.

You reach into your pocket to remember what your next class is. Over your shoulder, Monet is looking at it too.

“Ohh, you have biology,” She whistles. “Me too.” Monet smiles. “Most of us do.”

You look up to see it’s not just the two of them but an entire group of three more girls you assume to be Monet’s friends.

“Come on, we don’t want to be late,” Monet stands, and the other girls follow. You rise to your feet, hoisting your backpack onto your shoulder before you do the same. “We can head to the bathroom first.” She suggests, and you nod. That’s understandable. They walk together, all the girls engaging in conversations about the upcoming holiday and what they would get for each other. You haven’t thought about Christmas much this year and have nothing to offer. You stand awkwardly on the side, fingers clutching the straps of your backpack in a death grip, watching as Monet inspects herself in the mirror before she turns to you.

“Your hair is so nice,” She exaggerates as she walks over to you. “It’s so long and curly,” She doesn’t even ask permission before she takes a strand in her hand. You try to hide your gasp at the unexpected touch. Not that she would notice anyway. As she inspects your curls, you hold your breath a little, wanting nothing more than to pull away from her. “Are you mixed?” She asks, and you shake your head. “Isn’t her hair nice, guys?” She glances over at her friends, and they all agree.

“No, not that I know of,” You answer her question quietly.

“Oh well, you are just one of those girls that have good hair anyway,” She shrugs, and you think there’s a compliment somewhere. “Let’s go.” She loops her arm around yours. Something that has you tensing as you begin to walk to class. “I think you’ll like it here. Stick with me, and no one will mess with you.”

You find yourself nodding silently again. You notice how the other girls hang on to her every word as she talks. They’re all pretty opinionated, and it’s clear they’re the popular girls in this school. Monet is the queen bee. You don’t mind, but you wish she would stop touching you. She leads you to the back of the classroom, where she sits on the lap of some random boy with a letterman jacket.

“Hey, this is Y/n. She’s new,” Monet introduces you to Travis Williams and his friends.

“Ms. Parker, I suggest you find a seat that isn’t already taken,” The man you assume to be your biology teacher enters the classroom. He sets his coffee down on his desk before approaching your table. “Hello, you must be new.” He extends his hand for you to shake, and you do so. You’re probably going to be doing a lot of that today. He waits patiently for Monet to move into her chair with an eye roll. He returns to the front of the class and begins teaching the lesson. You’ve already gone over at home on your own. This section shouldn’t be too hard.

***************************

The rest of your classes go by smoothly. Monet shows you around, looping her arms with yours again, in what you find to be a bit of a possessive manner, despite you only meeting her four hours ago. During lunch, you have it alone, so you excuse yourself to the bathroom to get some air away from everyone. This is where you pull out your phone, noticing a missed call and a voicemail from a number you recognize—your mother’s.

You hold your breath as you press play on the voicemail. Every nerve in your body is screaming at you not to. You don’t know what you’re expecting but hearing her voice doesn’t surprise you.

“Y/n, I’ve been calling you,” Sherry’s voice immediately makes you nervous. It’s sweet and quiet despite the hint of annoyance and anger. “I wish you would answer your phone. Why get a phone and not answer?”She questions. “Anyway, the police just came by to talk with your brother, and I’m calling to ask what’s going on. If Dave did what you said, I want to know why you didn’t come to me. Why didn’t you tell anyone? Everyone is looking at me as crazy because I don’t know what’s happening, and I don’t appreciate being blindsided. I’m only one person, and you know I can’t keep an eye on everyone all the time. If you’re lying, this isn’t something to lie about. Anyway, call me back when you can.”

Tears of frustration spring to your eyes when the message finally stops playing. Nothing there proves that she genuinely called because she was concerned for you. At the same time, it can come across as that you know better. She’s said so herself. She’s been blindsided and wants to speak with you to save face. She wants to appear as the concerned and caring mother even though you’re not sure this is an appropriate response for that. You lean against the bathroom sink, contemplating calling Natasha to come to get you before you decide not to. How grown-up would you be if you called your foster parents for everything? They can’t always save you from these things. Your relationship with your mom is your problem. Your life issues don’t have to be theirs to bear. If you keep coming to them, they’ll eventually get tired of you. So, you pack your phone in your backpack and clean your face.

This is only the beginning of how life will be for you. There’s no reason to cry now.

*******************

When you sit in the front seat of Wanda’s car later that day, she knows something is off. You’re much quieter than she’s used to, which speaks volumes. Not that you’re a loud kid, but still, she can tell your mood is different. You’ve been sitting on these feelings all day and would rather not talk about it. Some things you could handle on your own, and your birth mother was one of them. She’d leave you alone eventually. You hope.

“Sweet girl,” Wanda leans forward to engage when she stops at a red light. . “How was school? Did something happen?”

“School was fine,” You give a curt response. “Nothing happened.”

“I know things are tough right now with everything going on,” Wanda tries again. “I just want you to know that Mommy and I are here if you need anything.”

“Nothing happened,” You repeat a bit more firmly. You immediately feel guilty at the silence that fills the car. “I’m just tired, is all.” The lie slips through your teeth so easily. Wanda leaves it alone for now. She knows not to push, and when you immediately head up to your bedroom when you get home, it's only confirmed that something is wrong. She will probably bring it up to Natasha when she comes from work. They always want to talk and discuss feelings and things. You toss your backpack on the floor, kick your shoes off, and strip yourself of your t-shirt and jeans to crawl under the covers.

You lie on your pillow, and nothing comes out though you feel like you could cry right now. You feel numb, partially in shock, and exhausted. Your mother knows. Mike knows. Your sisters know. Dave knows that you told on him. While you’re not afraid of him physically hurting you, not a lot at least, you’re terrified he’ll spin things around on you. It's your word against his.

It’s always been your word against his. You close your eyes, willing the bad memories away for the time being, as you succumb to your exhaustion. You probably shouldn’t be taking a nap late in the day, but your body needs it. Your head sags against the pillow as you drift off.

***********************

The next time you awake, your bedroom door opens, and a light flickers. You startle at the sudden intrusion, shying away from the lights when there’s a body jumping onto your bed. You groan, turning away from your intruder as she lies on the pillow next to you.

“Who died?” Riley asks, and you peek one eye open to look at her. She’s only joking, and while you appreciate her efforts, you can’t speak. “Okay,” She pops her lip. “Are we in a depressed mood or an angry mood?”

You shrug. You don’t know which one you’re in right now. Anger might not even be on the list.

“I can leave,” Riley suggests. “If you don’t feel like it today. Your foster mom let me in, so…” She trails off.

“Don’t go,” You speak quietly. You remove your head from the covers to look at her. She’s so close, yet you don’t feel afraid.

“Okay,” Riley nods before looking up at the ceiling. She folds her arms against her belly. “If you don’t want to talk about your day, I could tell you about mine?” She glances at you. You nod your head against your pillow. “Well, I aced my chem test today. Perfect score, as always.” She begins. “I also may have gotten my period today, which was an unwelcome surprise, but I was prepared.” She explains. “I ate the most disgusting pizza at lunch.” She continues, and upon noticing the look on your face, she stops. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” You shake your head. “What are we doing today?” You lean up so that your hand is supporting your head.

“I don’t know,” Riley shrugs. She never looks away from you for a second, and you try to ignore how she glances down at your lips. Maybe you imagine it. “We can bake cookies? Do you guys have the ingredients?”

“Like homemade?” You ask, and her eyes light up. “We do have them. Natasha and I make them all the time.” Your spirits haven’t been lifted, but you don’t want to spend time with Riley moping around.

“Great, I can show you how great of a baker I am,” Riley scoots down the bed to stand to her feet. She waits patiently for you to stand too. You both walk down to the kitchen, where Wanda gives Louis a fresh water bowl.

“Mama,” You stand at the island. “Riley and I are going to bake cookies if that's okay.”

Wanda looks between the two of you before nodding. She knew it was an excellent idea to let Riley in. Sometimes having a friend or someone to talk to helps.

“Do you need my help?” She stands straight.

“Nope, I think we got it,” Riley taps her fingers against the counter. “I’m an expert.”

“Well, expert, don’t burn my house down,” Wanda nods.

“You sound like Mommy,” You smile, and Wanda laughs. She can agree that she does. She leaves you two to your own devices for the time being. Though you know she will be hovering until you’re done. Riley pulls out her phone to google how to make homemade cookies. Her expertise starts and ends with the items she needs. She calls them out as you walk around the kitchen to find everything.

“We need butter, sugar, brown sugar, eggs, flour,” She lists, and you set everything down before you look for mixing bowls. “This is going to get messy.” She mutters, and you smile.

“Not if we clean as we go,” You set the supplies down. “It says we have to preheat the oven to 350 degrees.” You walk over to said appliance and press a few buttons. The first step is done.

“Wait, wait, wait, we need music,” Riley taps the screen on her phone to open up her Spotify. She finds a song that she likes before nodding her head in approval. Baking with Riley proves to be a good time for you. She is the perfect person to make you feel better, and she manages to do that with nothing but charm and silly dad jokes. She even prompts you to sing as she uses the mixer to combine all of your ingredients.

“Both of us are mad for nothing, fighting for nothing, crying for nothing,” You sing in unison, the Neyo song filtering through the kitchen, and you finish the chorus by offering her the wooden spoon to use as a mic as she belts into it. She gets into the music a little too much, and the bowl almost topples over before she catches it. You giggle as she begins to clean up her mess. You notice a bit of flour on her cheek and wonder how it got there.

“It’s not nice to laugh at other’s mistakes,” Riley pouts before she transfers the cookies into small balls on the cookie sheet.

“It is when they’re this funny,” You laugh again though you help her place both sheets into the oven. She bumps your hip before walking to the sink to wash her hands. You move to do the same but let out a shriek of surprise when she wiggles her fingers and splashes you with the water. Now it’s her turn to giggle, and you spray her back in retaliation. Before you know it, you’re engaged in a water fight, laughing and dodging her hands as she tries to cup an insane amount of water to pour down the back of your shirt. You move away just in time for her to spill it all over her socked feet, and she curses under her breath a little.

“Aww, come on,” She groans at the icky feeling of soaked cotton against her toes.

“I guess you have to be quicker than that,” You laugh. She shares in your joy, only to be interrupted by a constant knocking on the door. You look at her curiously, wondering if it’s time for her to go home, and she shakes her head in silent answer.

“My mom isn’t going to be here for another hour or so,” Riley speaks. Wanda seems to have answered the door as the knocking stops. You can hear a bit of commotion in the living room, and you both go to investigate. Soon though, you feel like another bucket of water has been dumped over you as you hear the familiar voice. How is she here? How does she know where you live? How did she get this address?

“Where is my daughter?” Sherry demands from Wanda. “I want to speak with my daughter?”

“Mom?” You question, not sure if you’re addressing Wanda or Sherry, as you step into the foyer. “Mom, what are you doing here? How did you get this address?” You ask, and she again attempts to step around Wanda, only to be stopped.

“Y/n, come on, go get your stuff. You’re coming home,” Sherry prompts. You shake your head. That’s ridiculous. “I know what happened, and I need you to come home with me. Just come home with me so I can make it better. We can tell them the truth.”

“No,” You back away, almost bumping into Riley, and for a second, you forgot she was there.

“Sherry, please, don’t do this,” Wanda pleads with her. “Just leave now, and I won’t have to call the police.” Not that she would need to. Wanda is powerful enough to end all of this though you’re sure she’s holding back in an effort not to hurt your birth mother. “Bunny, go upstairs, take Riley. Don’t come out until I tell you. Call Mommy.” She instructs.

“I am her mother,” Sherry argues. Her words are a bit slurred, and you see your mother is drunk for the first time in years. The disappointment settled in your belly increases tenfold. Why did she come here like this? “She needs me.”

“But,” You say.

“No, Bunny, do as I say now,” Wanda practically yells, and it's the first time she’s ever raised her voice at you. You spring into action, rushing up the stairs into your bedroom, hearing Riley’s footsteps behind you as she closes your bedroom door. You grab your phone from your bed to dial Natasha’s number, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. Your hands are unsteady, your breathing is a bit erratic, and you’re not sure up from down. You want to go back to this morning when you were only worried about fitting in at school.

Why did she come here? Why was she so angry?

“I can call your mom for you,” Riley takes your phone from your shaking hands. She presses the phone to her ear. She is waiting for Natasha to connect before she speaks. “Mrs. R, this is Riley. I think you should come home right now. Something is going on. Bunny’s birth mom is downstairs fighting with-” You can tell when Natasha speaks. She doesn't need to say much. She’s already on her way. You can still hear the shouting downstairs, and it terrifies you.

Sherry came to your home and interrupted your life. She broke the bubble of peace you have here.

Riley hangs up the phone before coming to sit next to you.

“She’s on her way,” Riley informs you. You don’t give a response. “Bunny?” Riley asks, and you look at her through blurry eyes. “What is she talking about? What does your mom want you to tell the truth about?”

For a moment, you contemplate coming clean with her. You debate on spilling your entire heart out to her. Her brown eyes look at you with such concern.

“We are going to burn the cookies,” You mumble instead. You sigh.

What a mess.

Downstairs, Wanda has managed to push Sherry out of the house and onto the front yard. The other woman is belligerent and shouting angry things that Wanda is unsure about. She knows her only priority is to keep you safe. If she had to use force, she would.

“You’re trying to keep me away from my daughter,” Sherry shouted, fighting Wanda’s grasp to pull herself away from the slightly younger woman. “She’s not yours. I’m her mother, not you. Me.” Sherry emphasizes.

“Sherry,” Wanda says.

“No,” Sherry snaps. “I’ve let you pretend long enough. You’re the one keeping her from me: you and your wife. Putting evil lies into her head about me. You are spreading your sin to her. I saw the girl she’s with. She’s nothing but trouble, and you just let her run around here like a heathen with no home training.”

“Are you drunk?” Wanda remains calm. “Did you come here because you want to make sure your daughter is alright? Your definition of mother is very skewed.” Wanda’s accent thickens the angrier she gets.

Sherry’s lips curl in disgust as Wanda speaks to her with disdain and judgment.

“What would you know about motherhood? You don’t have children of your own. When you do, you will understand, but that one up there belongs to me. She came out of me. She’s mine.” Sherry points up to the second floor of the house. “She’s going around town telling you all lies about me and everyone else, and I won’t have it. You know she’s done this before, right? Lied about someone touching her? She lied about the Riley girl. I’m surprised the girl wants anything to do with her.”

Wanda does know the story quite well. She doesn’t need to do that for conversation’s sake.

“You’re accusing your daughter of lying about being sexually assaulted?” Wanda narrows her eyes. “Did you come here because you care or to clear your name? Do you realize how much pain you’re causing her?”

Sherry stands still, her stance becoming haughty, as she looks at Wanda.

“You think because you buy her new clothes and allow her to live in this fancy house that makes you a mother?” Sherry crosses her arms. “That doesn’t make you anything. Y/n would choose me over you any day. Now, I knew she was getting into trouble but for something like this?”

“So you knew something was wrong?” Wanda drops her hands.

“As I said, I’m her mother,” Sherry shrugs. “A mother knows when her child changes, but what that girl is accusing is nothing but lies. That boy received a bad beating from his father. She has the police coming to my house and disturbing the peace. She needs to understand things.”

Wanda stops herself before she can become too angry. She can feel the magic threatening to escape her as energy pushes at her fingertips.

“What is there to understand?”

“That she can’t go around lying on people,” Sherry steps a bit closer to Wanda. “I don’t know what goes on in your house, but I won’t allow it in my house.”

None of what Sherry is saying makes sense, and Wanda realizes that now.

“Go home,” Wanda says. “Go home, and I won’t report this to the caseworker or the police. Do better.” She begins to walk away.

“She’ll never be yours,” Sherry calls to her. “You may think you know that girl there, but you don’t. She’s sweet right now but has a lot of trouble too. I know how to handle her. I know what it takes to keep her in line because I’m her mother.”

Wanda extinguishes the red ball of electricity in her hands. She tries to stop herself from saying anything further. It’s an overwhelming need to get through to this woman. She needs her to understand how much she’s missed. She needs to make her see you. Does she still not realize the damage she’s doing?

“Her favorite color is purple, but it changes depending on her mood,” Wanda turns. Sherry looks at her as if she’s grown another head. There is a shift in the atmosphere as she talks. “She loves Sandra Bullock movies. She rarely eats all her meals and feels guilty about it, but we work with her. She needs patience. She needs love. That’s what we give her. Not lessons and discipline for things that she can not control.” Wanda takes a deep breath. “She enjoys eating spaghetti the most. She’s a snacker, and that’s how we’ve gotten her to gain some weight. She was too skinny when she got here. Her favorites are ritz crackers with turkey and cheese. She calls it her homemade Lunchable.”

Sherry turns her head. Though she’s no longer looking at Wanda, she seems to be listening.

“She likes to draw,” Wanda’s nose scrunches. “She’s amazing at it. She loves playing piano and guitar.” Wanda gestures to her knee. “She has a scar above her left knee from falling off her bike when she was nine.” Sherry should already know that, considering she’s toting herself as a mother. “She sleeps with a nightlight. She has nightmares almost every single night. You think she’s lying about him hurting her, but I see her telling the truth and living her truth. She wouldn’t let us or anyone touch her because of what he did to her. You had an idea that something was going on? You thought she changed to rebel, and you said nothing. You questioned nothing.” Wanda can feel tears springing to her eyes. “She usually falls asleep around 10 pm and wakes up most nights in the middle of the night. She leaves her shoes everywhere, and I practically trip over them daily. She doesn't always close the cabinet doors or turn off the sink when she’s done using it. She can be sensitive and funny, and it takes a while to get comfortable enough to be any of those things. All things a mother would know. All things that you should know. She’s growing, and you’re missing out because you decided not to be there. You don’t get to call yourself her mother.”

Wanda lifts her head a little higher when she spots Natasha pulling into the driveway. Natasha barely has time to park the car before rushing out and standing defensively in front of Wanda.

“Stay away from her,” Natasha begins. Her voice is eerily calm, and Sherry has the decency to take a few steps back. “I’ve already called the cops. I suggest you remove yourself from my property before I do it for you.”

“I’ll leave,” Sherry mumbles. “I think you should know that this won’t last. This farce of a family you have going on. Your caseworker hasn’t called you yet.”

Natasha doesn’t want to entertain the woman. She simply steps forward, forcing Sherry to step towards the street.

“My daughter, my oldest, she lives in California,” There’s a smug look on Sherry’s face. “She’s petitioning for custody. Taking the classes right now. So if you think she’ll be out of my life, she’ll be out of yours too.” She reveals. “She’ll keep her for me until this all blows over.”

Sherry doesn’t say another word. She climbs into her car, accelerating down the street at a dangerous speed, and Natasha curses to herself.

What a mess, indeed.

#fic recs #fic rec #natsxaddiction

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uraveragelonelygay · 2 years

Text

Calm in the Storm

Pairing: Shelby Goodkind x Reader x Toni Shalifoe

Summary: You are not okay. But you are also not alone.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Depressive thoughts, slight suicidal ideations, but nothing crazy, Shoni being loving and soft gfs

A/N: Miss me? lol I know it’s not marvel, but enjoy some content!

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Being stranded on an abandoned island came with a lot of feelings. Regret. Anger. Frustration. Terror. Despair. And those were just the surface emotions. You had experienced them all. But after being on the island for nearly a month, a new emotion began to stir. A feeling that there was no point. A feeling that no matter what you did, it wouldn’t be good enough to save everyone. Hopelessness. You felt hopeless.

The feeling settled deep in your bones as you sat up against a washed up log on the sand. The bark was scratchy against your back. The night breeze caused you to shiver. A few hundred feet from you, the other girls sat around the fire, laughing and telling stories. But none of that could overpower the feeling of hopelessness that seemed to be drowning you. A feeling that it felt like nothing or no one could stop.

The feeling had been building in you for a while. Perhaps it was always destined to overwhelm you, seeing as one of the many treasures lost at sea seemed to be the medications that helped to keep your mind at bay. But the cause of it seemed to be unimportant. In the moment, all you could think about was how the feeling consumed you. How you felt as if there was no point in even trying anymore. There wasn’t a point in waking up, or doing your chores, or interacting with the girls. Staring out at the sea, you wondered what the harm would be in running out into the sea, letting your body bash against the-

“Hey, hun, enjoying the view?” A sweet southern drawl interrupted your twisted thoughts, and before you could fully process it, one of your girlfriends was sitting beside you and resting her head on your shoulder.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, just watching the waves,” you responded despondently as your other girlfriend took a seat on your opposite side, gently taking your hand in hers.

“You looked pretty lost in thought there, babe, are you doing alright?” Toni asked softly, her concerned eyes trying to meet yours as you simply stared forward at the ocean.

The words were on the tip of your tongue. The need to express yourself and be comforted by your girlfriends was burning you up inside. But a voice in your head kept you quiet.

Burden. You’re a burden. Don’t bother them with your problems. They already have enough to worry about without you being all lame and sad all the time.

You took a deep breath, and for a moment your loves were hopeful that you would talk to them. Instead, you plastered a smile on your face and glanced between them. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, I was just taking a breather.”

Shelby and Toni exchanged concerned glances with each other, but ultimately decided to drop it for the time being. They hoped you would come to them if it really got bad.

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You did not, in fact, end up reaching out to them. As the days passed, you did your best to fake smiles and act as though everything was alright, but all the girls were able to notice how tired you were, or the way you moved a little slower than normal, or how your smiles always seemed forced. But they opted to not directly address it, simply doing subtle things to check in on you and help you out. Your girls made sure you were drinking water and eating. Fatin tried to include you in her shit-talking sessions. Dot took on a few of your daily chores to ease your load. Martha gave you a little extra when distributing food. Leah and Rachel even offered you a spot in their makeshift band.

But this only made you feel worse. You felt guilty for making the girls feel the need to go out of their way in order to help you. You were trying to be okay. Really, you were. But everything felt as though it got heavier and heavier everyday. You were running out of energy to do anything.

Everything hit its peak about a week after your conversation with Shelby and Toni. You were at an all time low now, and nobody had failed to notice that. You wouldn’t get out of bed. You simply lied there and stared into space, your mind elsewhere. You were so tired. Too tired to eat. Too tired to drink. Too tired to move. It was all too much. You felt as though you were being crushed by the weight of everything. You just wanted to curl in on yourself and disappear. You wondered if there was a way you could sneak off while the girls were asleep. You wouldn’t use the medication. No; you had already burdened everyone enough; there was no way you were going to deplete their med supply on top of everything else. So you would have to find another way. There was always-

“Hey, babe,” this time it was your hot-headed brunette girlfriend who interrupted your dark thoughts with her soft voice, “Shelby and I were thinking the three of us could head over to our spot and spend some time together, what do you think?” She gently tucked some stray hair behind your ear, caressing your face as she did.

She was always so gentle with you. So gentle. It’s more than you deserve. She deserves better. They both do.

“I think I’m just gonna stay here,” you said, your voice coming out weak and scratchy from lack of use.

Shelby approached you then, crouching down in front of you and taking your hand. “Alright, then how about we lay here with you for a bit? We haven’t really gotten a chance to talk to our girl much lately; it would probably do us all some good.” She was good at that; at making it seem as though they weren’t going out of their way to help you. Her good intentions pulled at your heart strings. For a moment you considered being honest with them this time; finally letting all of your inner turmoil spill out of you for them to help clean up. But then the voice was back.

Look what you did now. You ruined their plans. How dare you? What a fuck up. You’re disgusting.

Your heart clenched, anxiety starting to rise at the thought of inconveniencing the two girls you loved most. “No, no, I wouldn’t want you to do that. Please, you two should go have fun without me.”

Shelby was quick with a response. “Fun? Without you? Nonsense. We’ll just switch things up a little and-”

“No!” You blurted, your breaths quickening as your thoughts began to spiral.

Useless. Worthless. Can’t even let your girlfriends have fun. A mistake. A burden.

Toni took your other hand, brows furrowing in concern. “Hey, what’s going on?”

By this point you’re gasping for air, a full on panic attack in the works as your bottled up emotions can take it no longer. “You have to go, you shouldn’t…you can’t…I can’t…”

“Hey, hey, hey, love. I’m gonna need you to take some deep breaths for me, alright? You’re okay, I promise.” Shelby rubs the back of your hand with her thumb, squeezing it gently, trying to get you to calm down.

Toni took your hand she was holding and placed it on her chest as she took exaggerated deep breaths. “Breathe with me, alright?”

Before long, you were calming down, now breathing evenly, tears streaming down your face.

“There we go, love, I knew you could do it,” Shelby cooed, taking your face in her hands and gently brushing your tears away with her thumbs.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, going to move away, but Shelby held you there, looking into your eyes with nothing but love and concern.

“There’s no need to apologize, love,” she said, releasing your face to hold one of your hands instead.

“We’re just worried about you,” Toni explained, “you’ve been pulling away, and we want to know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

She took your other hand, squeezing softly, and you took a deep, shaky breath.

“I’m not okay,” you said hoarsely, tears slowly beginning to leak from your eyes again.

Both girls’ hearts broke at the overwhelming pain in your voice.

“It’s so hard to get up each day. I feel so useless. But then by laying around all day I only become more and more useless. And you two have been so wonderful and here I am all sad and lame and annoying and-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Toni cut you off, putting an arm around you and pulling you into her, holding you tight. “You are none of those things, okay? I can promise you that not a soul here thinks you are useless, or lame, or annoying-”

“And trust me, if they do, Toni will cut a bitch,” Shelby interrupted, causing you to let out a weak giggle.

“I’m really sorry you’ve been feeling this way, darling. I wish you’d come to us about it,” Shelby said.

You sighed. “I didn’t wanna bother anyone with my depressing shit. I mean, we’re all stuck here on this god forsaken island, the last thing I wanted to do was be a burden to you guys.”

“You could never,” Shelby assured you.

Toni nodded vigorously.

“Y/N, you’ve been here for all of our shit. You were the one at my side following my shelter building meltdown, you were the one helping nurse me back to health after we all got food poisoning.”

“You were there holding me tight after I told you and Toni about my life back home,” Shelby said, “We will always be here to return the favor. That’s a promise.”

You nodded, tears still flowing at all of the overwhelming emotions filling the atmosphere.

“I love you both so much,” you choked out in a sob.

“And us, you.”

“Always.”

You nuzzled your face into Toni’s neck, breathing her in, and welcoming the safety she brought you. Shelby’s arms were quick to wrap around your waist as she joined Toni in holding you, making you feel infinitely wanted and loved.

You were stranded on an abandoned island with no idea of what tomorrow might look like. A situation like this is one that welcomes chao and panic.

But as the three of you sat there, holding each other, one thing was for certain: you had never felt more grounded and calm than in this moment.

#shoni #Shoni x reader #shelby goodkind #toni shalifoe x reader #shelby x toni #shelby goodkind x reader #toni shalifoe #the wilds #save the wilds

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