Wanda’s eyes are already watery as she helps you get dressed into something comfortable that you can move in freely. It’s your first time going to daycare and Wanda had already cried last night and now she’s close to crying again this morning. Not that she’d ever allow herself to do that in front of you. “Look at you,” Wanda says fondly, swallowing back her tears. “My special grown-up girl.” “Yeah, I’m big now, a big girl and I’m going to daycare like a big kid!”

You jump around the room and Wanda grins at your enthusiasm, supposing she should be grateful that you’re taking this so well. Wanda had taken extended maternity leave for the past three years, spending every day looking after you, and this was your first time being away from her or Natasha for an extended period of time. You’re her special girl, her miracle, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous about leaving you in someone else’s care for the day.

Wanda and Natasha had been together for ten years before they realised they both wanted a child. Wanda had known for a while but didn’t want to push Natasha too much, knowing she found the concept of motherhood a difficult one. She’d been thrilled when Natasha had finally told her she was ready, that she wanted a child too. Initially Natasha had wanted to adopt, saying there were so many children looking for a loving home and Wanda had readily agreed, remembering her own difficult childhood of being orphaned young. They’d put forward an application only to be rejected – their careers were too dangerous and they were too high profile. Any child they adopted would be at risk. They’d tried to argue but had been shot down.

Still desperate to be Mothers’, they’d turned to a fertility clinic and Wanda had done everything they’d advised her to do. She’d even looked online for the best foods to eat and what to avoid if you want to fall pregnant. Despite how serious she’d taken it, years had gone by with failure after failure. It had taken a huge toll on their mental health, and Natasha had watched Wanda fall into despair. Natasha wanted to be a mother but she didn’t yearn for it the way that Wanda did. Natasha would be disappointed but would be able to live with that. If Wanda couldn’t have a child, she didn’t know what she would do.

“I can’t give up,” Wanda had sobbed one late night when they’d looked at yet another negative pregnancy test. “I want a child so bad.”

“I know love,” Natasha had said, running her fingers through Wanda’s hair, her head rested in her lap as she sobbed. “I hate seeing you like this though. We can’t go on forever, it’s breaking your heart.”

“One more try,” Wanda had begged. “Just one more, please. And then we can take a break.”

That one more try had resulted in you, their precious baby. As soon as Wanda found out she was pregnant she’d stepped back from her Avengers work, not taking any risks. You were precious cargo as far as she was concerned and she wasn’t going to let anything happen to the baby she’d been hoping and praying for. The moment you’d been born and had been placed in her arms, Wanda had wept tears of joy and relief. Natasha had cried too, pressing a kiss to your head and letting you hold her finger in your tiny hand. You were here, and you were everything that both of them had ever wanted. They could finally stop the fertility treatment and just focus on being your Moms’.

Natasha had returned to work when you were a year old whilst Wanda had decided not to go back to Avengers work until you’d started kindergarten, and even then she would be strict about what she was willing to do. Being away from you overnight was non-negotiable, it wasn’t going to happen. Wanda knew they needed her in the field but that paled in comparison to you. She was your Mom, and you needed her first and foremost. Wanda knew Natasha felt differently and she respected that. Plenty of parents worked whilst raising their children - it just wasn’t how Wanda wanted to do things.

“I think it’d be a good idea if Y/N started doing mornings or something at daycare,” Natasha had suggested one night when she and Wanda were getting ready for bed.

Wanda had whipped around in her seat, her eyes wide, “What? Why?”

Natasha had laughed at the expression on Wanda’s face, pressing a kiss to her wife’s cheek, “I think it’d be better if she got used to spending some time without us now before starting school. And she’s reached an age where she should start spending more time with other children.”

Wanda had looked away, knowing deep down that Natasha was right. You were a sociable child, always stopping to say hello to people in the street, always finding someone to play with when Wanda took you to the park. It would be nice for you to make real friends, friends that you got to spend regular time with, that you could have play dates with. So although it made Wanda anxious, she agreed they could put your name on some waiting lists for local daycares.

A small part of Wanda had hoped it would be a long time until a place become available but one daycare had immediate availability. They’d taken you for a look around and even Wanda couldn’t find anything wrong with it. There was a good staff to child ratio, the room was bright with plenty of toys, and you’d been happy to join in with the story time. They’d met the woman who would be your key worker and she’d been lovely, starting an instant rapport with you. Wanda knew it was the perfect daycare and they were lucky a place was available.

This morning she didn’t feel lucky though as you bounced around the room excitedly. Wanda suddenly scoops you up into her arms and presses kiss after kiss to your face, beaming when you giggle. “Mommy loves you so much.”

“Love you too Mommy!” You reply loudly, kissing her cheek in return.

“Let’s go find Mama and have some breakfast,” Wanda says positively, bouncing you in her arms. “And then we’ll go to daycare for your first day!”

It takes a while for the three of you to leave. You’re too excited to eat breakfast so Natasha has to keep coaxing you back to the table. After Wanda’s put your shoes on she decides she wants a photo and thus begins the photo shoot that always ensues. Photos of just you, photos of you with Natasha, photos of you with Wanda, photos of you with both of them, some with the phone propped on the bookshelf, some selfies. As their only child, both Natasha and Wanda love documenting absolutely every achievement or stage in your life.

You sing excitedly in the backseat the whole way to the daycare. Natasha smiles at you in the rear-view mirror whilst Wanda stares out the window, trying to hide her growing anxiety. It takes everything within Wanda not to burst into tears when they pull up outside the daycare, and she gets out the car quickly so that she can be the one to hold you as they carry you into the welcoming building.

Your key worker is waiting inside and had already told Natasha and Wanda to keep their goodbyes quick and brief so that you wouldn’t get too upset. Wanda sets you down on your feet and gives you a small smile, trying to ignore her tear-filled eyes, “Okay baby girl. Me and Mama are going to say goodbye now then we’ll both be back this afternoon to pick you up.”

Natasha had taken the day off work, partly to be here for you, but mostly to support Wanda who she knew would struggle with a morning all to herself for the first time in three years. Natasha kneels down next to Wanda and kisses your cheek, “Be a good girl, okay? We love you so much.”

“Wait…” You say quietly, your own eyes starting to water. “You’re… You’re not staying here with me?”

Wanda and Natasha exchange a glance, and Natasha gives you a reassuring smile, “No baby, daycare is just for kids. But you’re going to make friends and sing songs and listen to stories. It’s going to be really fun and me and Mommy will be back here at-”

Natasha is cut off by the sound of you bursting into noisy tears, and Wanda immediately pulls you into her arms, rubbing a reassuring hand up and down your back. Wanda feels awful for not explaining properly – had she not mentioned you’d be alone? Maybe she should’ve talked with you about it a bit more. She glances tearfully at Natasha and mumbles, “We can’t leave her here.”

Natasha’s own eyes are watering at how upset you are but she shakes her head, “It’s for her own good Wands. Of course she’s going to be upset but we can’t… We shouldn’t…”

Her voice is uncertain as she watches the way you cling to Wanda like a little Octopus. You’ve always been a little clingy, something Wanda secretly loved. Always wanting cuddles, reassurance, to be held, to be in either Natasha or Wanda’s lap. They’d both been naïve to think this separation would be easy.

Your key worker, Moira, comes over and kneels down, realising it’s going to be difficult for Natasha and Wanda to separate from you when you’re so distraught. “The first day is always the hardest,” She says kindly. “There are usually a lot of tears for the first couple of weeks until they get used to the routine.”

Natasha nods whilst Wanda keeps her arms around you protectively, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “What should we do?” Natasha eventually asks.

Moira gives her a reassuring smile then addresses you, “Hey Y/N. Do you want to come and pick out the book for morning story time? Since it’s your first day you get to pick.”

Your interest is slowly piqued and you look up from Wanda’s chest though your little hands still cling to her jacket. Wanda exchanges a tearful glance with Moira, seeing the angle she’s going for. “Yeah, you like a story, don’t you?” Wanda says in the most positive voice she can manage, her voice cracking slightly.

You look uncertainly at Moira then at Natasha who gives you an encouraging smile, “Go on Sweetheart. You can choose a book, it’s okay.”

Moira holds out her hand and you hesitantly let go of Wanda, taking Moira’s hand in your own. The key worker gives them both a reassuring smile and begins leading you into the daycare towards the bookshelf. Natasha stands up, her voice shaking, “We should go now while she’s distracted. If we stay longer it’s only going to upset her.”

Wanda hesitates, swallowing down the lump in her throat as she watches you walking away from her. It takes everything in her not to cross the room and lift you back up into your arms, and take you home where she can keep you safe. But she knows that everything Natasha has said about you going to daycare is right. You need to do this, need the independence and the socialising aspect. So although it breaks Wanda’s heart she stands up and lets Natasha lead her out of the daycare.

Just as they’ve left, you look back over your shoulder, your face crumpling when you realise Natasha and Wanda are gone. You’d thought they would stay for story time like they had at the taster session and you open your mouth and begin to scream as you realise they’re not there. Moira lifts you into her own arms to try and comfort you, and you cry loudly, calling desperately for your Moms’ and sobbing even more when they don’t come back for you.

Wanda spends all morning checking the daycare app for updates. About an hour after they dropped you off there’s an update to say that you enjoyed story time, along with a photo of you sitting with the other kids. You look a little overwhelmed but generally settled so Wanda relaxes. You have a snack, then a nap, and then do some painting. Natasha looks over Wanda’s shoulder to check the updates too and smiles, kissing her cheek, “See? She’s absolutely fine.”

Natasha would never admit it but she’d been worrying too, and had had a little cry of her own in the bathroom when they got home. She had to be strong for Wanda but it was hitting her harder than she’d initially thought too.

Wanda is relieved when it’s finally time to pick you up and she rushes into the daycare centre, holding her arms out when she spots you, “Y/N!”

You look over, immediately bursting into tears when you spot your Moms’. You run over into Wanda’s arms, throwing your arms around her neck. “Mommy, you left me all by myself!” You wail accusingly.

Wanda peppers your teary cheek in little kisses and then whispers, “I know baby, I’m sorry. You had a good day though, didn’t you?”

“I missed you!” You whine in the way only a little kid can manage.

Moira gives Natasha and Wanda a knowing smile, telling them quietly, “She was tearful for the first half-an-hour and then calmed down. We had a good morning and she had a nice time. It looks like she even made some friends. It’ll get easier as time goes on, I promise.”

Wanda nods, lifting you up into her arms. Although she’s glad that you had a good morning and you weren’t upset the entire time you were apart, she’s even gladder that you’re back in her arms where you belong. You pout as they carry you back out to the car, “You left me Mommy!”

“I did but I’ll always come back for you,” Wanda reassures you, kissing your cheek again as she straps you into your car seat. “You’re my special girl and I love you so much.”

“And so do I!” Natasha calls from the driver’s seat, starting the engine. “You were such a brave girl today, how’s about we go and get some ice cream to celebrate?”

You immediately perk up at the thought of ice cream, your betrayal immediately forgotten. Wanda also brightens as she sees the happy look on your face. Natasha drives to an ice-cream parlour that the three of you frequent regularly, and then she lifts you up so you can see all the flavours on display. You spend a long time choosing but neither of them rushes you, letting you have this as a special treat.

The rest of the day passes without incident but at bedtime, when Wanda closes the story she’d been reading you, you mumble worriedly, “Mommy? Do I have to go back to daycare tomorrow?”

“No,” Wanda says, running a hand over your head. “You’ll spend tomorrow with me. But the day after that you’ll go back to daycare for the morning.” Wanda feels her chest tighten at the worried look on your face, realising that this schedule might be confusing to you given how young you are. “You had fun, didn’t you?”

“Yes but I would rather stay at home with you.”

Wanda smiles, watching your little brow furrow as you try to process all the big emotions you felt today. “Tell you what,” Wanda says. “Why don’t you come and sleep in the big bed with me and Mama tonight?”

Your eyes light up and you nod without hesitation, unable to believe your luck at having two treats in one day. Wanda lifts you out of your bed and carries you through to the bedroom she shares with Natasha, shooting her wife a look when she laughs at her. “Y/N’s sleeping in here tonight,” Wanda says defensively, tucking you into their bed.

Natasha climbs in on your other side, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I didn’t say a word. I love cuddles with my little girl.”

Wanda strokes her fingers over your forehead, a relaxing gesture that she’s done for years, “There we go. Nice and warm in Mommy and Mama’s bed.”

Ava is so lost in her training that she doesn’t realise until it’s too late that she’s going to bump into Yelena. Her shoulder bumps against the blonde’s and she opens her mouth to apologise but it’s too late. “Watch what you’re doing!” Yelena snaps, grabbing her towel and storming out of the gym.

Ava looks at Bucky who simply shrugs his shoulders. For the past week Yelena has been so irritable that the other New Avengers have found it easier to just try and avoid her. In the gym Yelena works out alone, not approaching any of the others to see if they want to spar with her, and feeling relieved that they don’t ask her in return. Yelena spends most evenings in her room, and on the few occasions she’s forced to come out she’s irritable and short-tempered. John had seriously thought she was going to hit Val when she’d come to visit yesterday.

“When is Y/N going to come and visit again?” Alexei had asked at dinner last night, apparently not picking up on Yelena’s dark mood as she picked lifelessly at her food. “We haven’t seen them for a while. They’re good for you Yelena, they-”

Alexei had missed Ava’s wide eyes and pointed raised eye-brows – he probably would’ve missed a neon sign if she’d held one up. Yelena had glared at him and stood up abruptly from the table, scraping her chair harshly against the floor before stalking back to her room. Alexei had looked at Ava, his eye-brows creased with worry, “What did I say?”

“I think she’s in a bad mood because she fell out with Y/N,” Ava replied pointedly. “Y/N seemed pretty upset when they came round last weekend.”

“They asked me whether I’d hung out with Yelena that evening,” John said. When Ava just stared at him he shrugged his shoulders, “Just thought it might be relevant.”

“We should just leave them to it,” Bucky had said. “I don’t think Yelena will appreciate us poking our noses in her business.”

Now Yelena sits in her room, scrolling through your instagram account. You don’t post an awful lot, and Yelena had requested that you never post her – she’d said for security reasons but the truth was that Yelena hated how she looked in photos. Once you’d taken a candid photo of her at the zoo on one of your first dates, a photo that Yelena had begged you to delete but you’d grinned and shaken your head, eventually setting that photo as your phone lock screen. Yelena wishes she’d let you take more photos of the two of you, more physical proof of the time you’d spent together.

She stops on her favourite photo of you – a photo of you in the middle of a table surrounded by your friends, holding a cocktail up in the air, mid-laugh. You’d told Yelena it was your birthday, that your friends had organised a surprise birthday meal for you. Yelena has never celebrated her birthday before – maybe she did when she was young but she can’t really remember. As an adult she knows she could celebrate but now she feels weird and self-conscious about it. None of the other Avengers had made big deals of their own birthdays. John had met up with some old army friends for drinks but he was the only one who’d done anything at all to mark the occasion. None of them had exchanged cards or gifts or had a birthday cake.

Yelena opens up her messages, finding the very last message she’d sent to you. ‘Didn’t realise it started at seven, sorry. Not feeling great anyway so probably best if I give it a miss. See you soon, have fun!’

Why had she lied? Of course you’d seen right through it, it was one bullshit excuse too many and Yelena cringes as she remembers you standing in the doorway to the living room. How she’d known immediately that you were angry but she’d held out her arms, hoping you’d come over and she could hold you until you weren’t anymore. That you’d let Yelena make it up to you in a different way and then maybe she’d eventually tell you the truth.

Her fingers hesitate over the keyboard as she considers messaging you, not for the first time. It’s been a week now, surely that’s enough time for you to have cooled off, to be willing to hear her out. Yelena had noticed your hesitancy when she’d asked you to leave last weekend. If Yelena could only work up the courage to ask you to meet up with her then you would probably agree. She begins to type before quickly deleting everything and throwing her phone down onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. All of the tabloids called Yelena brave – they often called her reckless and wild too, but brave always stuck out to her. Because Yelena knows she’s not brave, not really. Not when it actually counts.

Your heart leapt into your chest as you saw the ‘typing’ bubble pop up on your phone. You’d also been staring at your message thread with Yelena, winding yourself up when you’d reread her old excuses. Some of the messages in the chat had been sweet, and some had been funny. It made you want to laugh and cry all at the same time. Despite your irritation when you’d reread the last message she’d sent you, it hadn’t stopped your heart soaring when you thought she was finally going to message you. You watched the bubble disappear and your heart sank again.

You’ve been just as miserable as Yelena for the past week. On Sunday you’d been a bit of a hypocrite, cancelling plans you’d had with your friends, telling them that you felt unwell. It hadn’t been entirely untrue. You’d struggled to eat for the past few days, struggled to do anything except for lie in your bed and cry. Part of you is glad that you stood your ground, that you didn’t let Yelena mess you or your friends around – the other part just misses her desperately.

You want to text her. To meet up with her, to kiss her, to tuck her hair behind her ear, to laugh with her, to touch her, to feel her touch you… But then you reread that message she sent, remember the way you’d broken down in the bathroom in your friend’s house when you’d realised that once again that she was letting you down. You imagine yourself a year from now sitting in an apartment that the two of you would share together, waiting for her to come home, not knowing where she is, being constantly let down. There are a lot of things you can ignore, that you’d be willing to put up with, but this isn’t one of them.

You roll onto your side, willing the ‘typing’ bubble to pop up again despite yourself. It doesn’t.

On Monday, eight days after you and Yelena had broken up; you don’t have much choice but to go into work. You’d called out sick all of last week, not wanting to face anyone, not wanting to tell anyone that you and Yelena had broken up. Luckily work was so busy today that you didn’t have any time to chat with your colleagues anyway. A friend asked if you wanted to get a drink after work but you text back to say another time. This week you would face work. Next week you would face socialising again.

By the time you get back to your apartment you’re exhausted. You flick on the light and nearly jump out of your skin when you find Yelena sitting on your couch, a bottle of vodka in her hand as she looks up at you, her eyes red. “Hey,” Yelena says flatly.

You open and close your mouth a few times before looking around the living room and then bursting irritably, “What the fuck Yelena? Did you break into my apartment?”

“Everyone always asks that,” Yelena says, taking a swig from the vodka bottle before looking at you again. “No. I did not break anything. I did gain access to the apartment though.”

“How?”

“I am highly trained.”

Your joy at finally seeing her again is tarred with irritation and worry. Irritation because why couldn’t she just call or ring the bell like a normal person? Worry because Yelena clearly wasn’t doing well. You fold your arms, “I thought you were trying to drink less.”

“If I hadn’t drank this I wouldn’t have had the courage to come here. It’s hard being a coward. They don’t think an Avenger can be a coward but they can.”

Her words aren’t slurred but what gives away how drunk she is, is the volume of her voice. Loud but in a way where you can tell she’s trying her best to be quieter, though not quite managing it. “You’re a lot of things Yelena but you’re not a coward.”

“I am though,” Yelena says. “You threatened to leave and I let you because it was easier.”

You hesitate, “Easier than what?”

“Than telling you that- Fuck, telling you I’m a coward. It’s all because I’m a- For fucks sake.”

You sit down next to her on the couch, plucking the bottle out of her hand and placing it on the floor before reaching out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. You’d missed doing that. Yelena instantly curls into your side, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting her head on your chest. You can’t help tucking her head beneath your chin and holding her in return. “I thought you were going to text me.”

“I nearly did, so many times. There were so many things that I wanted to say.”

“Say them now then,” You reply softly. “You were brave enough to come all this way, don’t let it go to waste.” When Yelena only groans in response, you smile, “I’m not looking at you. You can say anything and I’ll just listen.”

Yelena closes her eyes, taking a moment to savour being in your arms again. Despite everything she’d done and how mad you’d been, you’d still held her without hesitation. It makes Yelena’s heart ache as she realises just how much she’s missed you. Her voice cracks as she quietly admits, “That night… I wasn’t feeling unwell. I didn’t lose track of time.”

“I thought as much,” You say in an even voice. “Tell me what really happened.”

Yelena hesitates before mumbling reluctantly, “You once told me that getting along with your friends was a deal-breaker.”

“Yeah but I just meant- I only meant that my friends are important to me. I didn’t mean I would break up with you on the spot if they didn’t like you. And it would depend on why they didn’t like you.” You sigh heavily, your fingers starting to run through her hair. “Disrespecting their time is a big one, that’s a deal-breaker.”

Yelena cringes, her nose scrunching up as she remembers. “I know-”

“And it doesn’t explain all the other times you cancelled on me or turned up late or just-”

“Gah, I know!” Yelena says, opening her eyes to look up at you. “I don’t have an excuse Y/N. Not one good enough for why I was such a shit girlfriend. It’s just…” Yelena looks away, her eyes watering. “I worry.”

“Worry about what?”

“About… Us. Y/N, I have never dated anyone before. I spent my whole life not allowing myself close to anyone because if I did, the Red Room turned it against me. My first friend, they… They made me lure her out into the woods, they knew, and it was me or her and I- I chose- She was so small and she trusted me, God, she trusted me.”

Yelena is crying openly now and you pull her into your lap. Whatever went down between you both, you still care about her and her sobs are breaking your heart. “Yelena, I-”

“It’s a bullshit excuse, I know it is. But I kept having these nightmares where people realised how much I care about you, people who would do anything to get back at me. I’ve done bad things Y/N, things I never told you about and I have enemies, probably more enemies than I realise.” Yelena sobs harder. “Whenever we arranged to meet up in public I kept imagining someone seeing us together, following you home… I couldn’t shake the thoughts no matter what I did.”

“Yelena, it- I can take care of myself you know. I carry around pepper spray-”

“I love you but baby, no; you can’t take care of yourself, not against the kind of people I know. They can get in and out without you even knowing they were coming until it was too late.”

You can’t argue with her logic. Yelena had gotten into your apartment without disturbing a thing. If she’d wanted to kill you, it wouldn’t have been difficult for her at all.

“I’d get anxious and I’d over think and I’d be in the bathroom panicking, and in the end it was often easier to just… Cancel.”

You lean back on the couch, your fingers still running through Yelena’s hair. Part of you understands what she’s saying and the anxiety she must be feeling. The way she’s sobbing makes you believe her words, that these aren’t just empty excuses. But despite that… “Lena, I can’t… Be with someone who messes me around like that.”

“I didn’t want to mess you around though, don’t you get that?”

“Maybe you didn’t want to but you did. And I don’t… I don’t know what to say. I get why you’re worried, I totally get it. But I want to go to cute cafes with you, to the beach, to the movie theatre, to the arcade. I want to go on long walks and hold hands and go out on proper dates with you. I want you to meet my friends because I know they’d love you. And if you’re telling me that you’re too scared to do any of that… Then I don’t know where we’re supposed to go.”

Your arms are still tight around Yelena, your hand still in her hair. Yelena doesn’t move and she doesn’t say anything either. For a long moment you just sit there, holding her in your arms. No, you don’t know what the solution is. But you know you don’t want to let her go either.

Yelena clearly shares your sentiment as she mumbles, “Don’t let me go.”

“Lena-”

“I don’t know what the solution is either but I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to get up off your lap just please… Please just hold me.”

It’s probably a bad idea but Yelena is too drunk right now to go anywhere anyway. You kiss the top of her head and mumble, “Okay.”

Yelena lets out a relieved sigh, nuzzling more comfortably into your arms and you sigh too, shifting so she can relax. You’re still not sure this is going to work long-term. You don’t want to be ruled by Yelena’s fear but you also don’t want her to go through this level of anxiety alone. Yelena had opened up to you before, telling you about her drinking problems, her loneliness. How the New Avengers had given her a sense of purpose she hadn’t had in years. Obviously she still had a lot to work through.

You take a sip of water in the green room, having just finished checking that you’re camera ready when you suddenly feel arms around your waist. “So… Are you excited to be interviewing the greatest movie star of all time?”

You smile, not turning around yet, “Oh I didn’t realise Meryl Streep was here, I’ve been dying to meet her.”

Natasha laughs and squeezes your waist, “Idiot.”

“You’re not meant to be back here, someone might see-”

“No one here would rat us out. Besides, I had to get some proper time in with my favourite person before the cameras roll.”

You finally turn to face her, giving her a small smile as you roll your eyes, “You say that you like you didn’t wake up in my bed this morning. Like I won’t be all over you again the moment the cameras are off and we’re home.”

Natasha kisses you before grinning against your lips, “I want every second I can get.”

You laugh, tucking a strand of her bright red hair behind her ear. You’d known Natasha for a long time, back when she was an Avenger. In those days you’d been more of an investigative journalist, and your boss had been pushing for an Anti-Avengers story. You’d been granted clearance for a tour of the compound and then to interview some of the Avengers. Natasha had been your favourite – she’d clocked your angle immediately, and had been sullen and difficult throughout the conversation. That night you’d promptly quit your job and then asked Natasha out on a date.

Not long after you got a job for a magazine that specialised in published and video interviews of celebrities. You’d quickly climbed the ranks, being offered the most high profile jobs, interviewing the most famous celebrities. Around the same time Natasha had been looking for a career change – the Red Room had been taken down and the endless fights had taken a toll on Natasha’s mental health. So she’d decided to try acting, and had quickly realised she had a talent for it, landing amazing opportunities. It was hard to remember that Natasha had once been an Avenger, everyone these days knew her from her movies.

Throughout it all the two of you had continued to date whilst both of your careers had blown up in different directions. You were the one who’d wanted to keep your relationship a secret. “People will start gossiping about how I only got my job because of you,” You’d said, intertwining your fingers with hers. “Besides, it might not look great for your career if you’re dating a peasant like me.”

“Oh shut up,” Natasha had snapped though she couldn’t help laughing. “Nobody would think that. And nobody would think twice about the fact we’re together, I mean look at you, you’re gorgeous-”

“Not as gorgeous as you,” You’d countered quickly, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“And besides, anyone who bothered to fact check would see that you got your job first. And you’re good at it. If anything, you might’ve given me my job-”

“I just want to keep it a secret for a while. If that’s okay.”

Natasha had sighed, pressing kisses to your neck and mumbling about how she hated keeping you a secret but had conceded. You understood her hesitance – Natasha had had so many secrets across the course of her life, of course she was fed up of the lies and the sneaking around. But she was still willing to respect your wishes.

The relationship had remained a secret for two years now. You’d both been on countless dates, moved in together, gone on romantic vacations together, even talked about getting married one day, and nobody but the two of you and a select few close friends had any idea. Tabloids had speculated about Natasha’s dating life before but had their suspicions had never landed on you, usually on co-stars or sometimes even people that Natasha had never met before. It made her laugh but admittedly, it made you a little jealous – the thought of someone else being with your girl.

It was easier in moments like this when Natasha’s arms were around you, her attention was on you and her lips were on yours. Natasha’s PA calls out the five minute warning but Natasha is in no hurry as she kisses you again. “I was thinking we could get sushi tonight. Stay in and watch a movie. I have an early flight in the morning but I might just push through, get some sleep on the plane. I want to spend every minute possible with you.”

Natasha was in the midst of promoting her movie and was flying to Europe in the morning. You didn’t want her to go, her promotions always felt like they went on for months, and then she’d often get shipped off to random locations to film her movies. Sometimes you could go with her but more often than not you couldn’t as your work was solely based in New York. The thought of her leaving again makes you feel a mixture of sad and irritable, but the promise of sushi and cuddles on the couch late into the night instantly make you feel better. “That sounds good to me.”

You reach out to touch her hair again, biting back the words you want to say. About how you’ll miss her, about how you wish she didn’t have to go but that you’re so proud of her for leaving her old life behind, for how successful she’s become. Instead you just kiss her again and she smiles when you pull back, “I know. I’ll miss you too.”

Your own PA calls out your name this time and you glance over your shoulder before looking back at Natasha, “Looks like it’s show time.”

“Why can’t we just tell everyone we’re dating? It’s been two years; it’s starting to get weird.”

You take her hand in yours, intertwining your fingers, “Soon. I promise.”

“Y/N!” Your PA’s voice has taken on a sharper tone.

You kiss Natasha’s knuckles and it makes her grin just as it always does, “Love you.”

“Love you too idiot. Let’s do this.”

Five minutes later you’re forced to pretend to introduce yourself to Natasha, something that you can tell irritates her a little bit but she doesn’t say anything. Along with Natasha are her two co-stars Skylar and Will. You’d met Skylar last year when she was promoting a different movie and the two of you hug like old friends. When you introduce yourself to Will he barely looks up from his phone to acknowledge you. Not too surprising from the stories you’d heard from Natasha about his attitude on set but irritating nonetheless. You’ve met celebrities like him before, who seem to think they’re above you and everyone else, just because they’d been lucky enough to shoot to fame.

Will eventually puts his phone away as the interview begins, and you immediately jump into professional mode, ignoring the fact that you and Natasha are dating. It’s irrelevant right now as you focus on the questions you’d researched the night before. You took pride in that aspect of your job, making sure you had relevant questions about whatever your interviewee was promoting but also personal touches to make it more interesting for your audience.

Natasha is every bit as professional as you are, leaning back in her chair and answering all your questions confidently without being overly familiar. It makes your chest swell with love, to see that even though she’s not keen on keeping this a secret; she’s willing to do it for you. Skylar is funny as usual, just as bubbly and energetic as you remember, always a treat to interview. Will is quiet at first, not offering much up – you hadn’t expected anything more from someone who clearly thought he was above all of this.

“Is there anything in this movie that we should watch out for, that fans should be particularly excited about?” You ask.

“This one,” Will suddenly says, his finger moving to run up and down Natasha’s arm in a way that makes you pause, your eyes narrowing as you take in the slow, suggestive movement. “I mean, when you have an ex-Avenger in an action movie, there’s always going to be something special about that.”

“Can you elaborate?” And also get your hands off my girlfriend, you want to add.

“Well Natasha is a legend in the industry already, especially when it comes to doing her own stunts. She makes a real point of it and it’s incredible to see the things that she can do.” Will gives Natasha a look, biting his bottom lip, “And she’s very flexible if you know what I mean.”

Your hand clenches into a fist and the questions written on the paper in front of you suddenly blur as you’re blinded by an irritable rage. Who does this cocky asshole think he is? He might be playing Natasha’s love interest but that’s only in the movie. Natasha says nothing, twitching her hair over her shoulder in the hopes it will get Will’s hand off her arm but it doesn’t seem to do the trick.

“And what do you think of the criticism from fans online that there isn’t much chemistry between you and Natasha to make the romance scenes believable?” You suddenly blurt.

Will raises his eye-brows whilst Natasha and Skylar share a glance. “I wasn’t aware of any criticism from fans,” Will eventually says evenly.

“There have definitely been some… Thoughts.” You reply in your most professional voice.

“Well I would say that they don’t need to worry. Natasha is an amazing woman and the sparks flew between us pretty much instantly. Our scenes will speak for themselves but we’re as close off screen as we are on screen.”

“Really? Because I heard a rumour that she had to try and calm you down at the wrap party when you threw a tantrum about the-”

“Y/N,” Your PA says sharply. “Maybe we should take a break?”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Will snaps the moment the cameras stop rolling. “All of that is being cut. I’m speaking to my agent, this is-”

You never hear what it is because you climb out of your seat and head back to the green room, running a stressed hand over your face. Natasha follows after you, not caring who sees her, “Y/N-”

“Don’t. I already know I fucked up, but that asshole just got under my skin, okay?”

“Y/N, it’s all pretend. You know I don’t like Will anymore than you do but-”

“I know, but he still had no right to be all over you like that.”

Natasha puts her hand on your arm, “Why has this bothered you so much?”

“Why did it bother me? Because you’re mine, Nat!” You burst. “And I don’t mean to sound like a creepy, possessive, controlling piece of shit but you’re my girl and I love you and I can’t stand seeing that assholes hands on you, talking about you right in front of my face as if he knows you better than me. He doesn't, he has no fucking idea.”

You expect Natasha to be irritated but to your surprise when you finally work up the courage to meet her gaze she’s smiling. “What?”

“Baby, you’re the one who wanted to keep this a secret. Will has no idea I’m dating you, neither does Skylar. In fact, they have no idea that I’m dating anyone. Of course I’m yours, I’ve always been yours, and I’ve always wanted everyone to know that.” You fold your arms and Natasha wraps her arms around your waist, “I can’t shove him off me in the middle of an interview no matter how much I’d like to-”

“Of course you can-”

“No, I can’t, because the producers and the higher ups want us to look like we actually like each other. I can certainly give him Hell once the cameras are off but when they’re rolling I have to smile and play the part. You know that.”

You look down, still irritated, “Well, I still think he’s an asshole.”

“Of course he is. And I’m not going to let him get away with that little stunt but-” Natasha grins again, having to bite her lip to hold back her laugh. “That was kind of cute how protective you got back there.”

You groan, “It was embarrassing!”

“I want the video footage of this. I know they’ll never let you air it but I want it. For personal reasons.”

“That footage is never seeing the light of day.”

You let yourself relax in her embrace, wrapping your own arms around her as Natasha kisses your cheek. “I’m yours. Always have been, always will be. Okay?”

You nod, leaning your forehead against hers and mumbling, “Okay.”

It was your eighth birthday when you’d first realised. You’d woken up to the sounds of your Moms’ singing Happy Birthday, and their voices had floated into your twin brother’s room. You’d clambered out of bed to join them, and they’d included your name in the song but they’d both sat on your brother’s bed, either side of him whilst you’d sat cross-legged on the floor.

Your eyes were bright with excitement and anticipation. You’d been begging your Moms’ for a tamagotchi and a games console for the past month – you weren’t even fussy about which kind of console. Something handheld like a Nintendo DS, or maybe a PlayStation or an XBOX. You had a handful of games on the family computer that you and your twin brother would often play, but you wanted the opportunity to expand your gaming library. One of your friends at school had a PlayStation which you thought was the coolest thing ever but you’d have been happy with any of them.

Brandon always got to open his presents first and he’d been bellyaching for a skateboard which was the first thing he opened, shrieking with excitement. Your Moms’ eyes had lit up, and Wanda had taken photo after photo of him. Your hands had ran over your brightly wrapped presents, tired of waiting for your turn, but Brandon still had other gifts to open. He’d opened new sneakers, a football, action figures, books, and finally, a PlayStation. Your mouth had fallen open and your excitement had risen – if Brandon had got a games console, you must have one too!

Finally it was your turn and you’d beamed, ripping the paper from your presents, your face falling slightly as you stared at them all. Two new books, a Barbie, a wristwatch and a delicate necklace with your initial. No gaming console, no tamagotchi. You’d looked towards the PlayStation on Brandon’s bed, asking quietly, “Is… Is that for both of us?”

“No, it’s Brandon’s,” Natasha had said, surprised. “He’s the one with a TV in his room. Maybe he’ll let you play too if you ask nicely though.”

You’d looked between your presents and your brothers. He was too excited with his own gifts to look your way, to acknowledge your own lacklustre pile. It wasn’t like you minded reading but these books were bright with unicorns on the cover – your favourite series was about a kid detective, you liked mysteries and adventures. These were generic ‘girl books’, picked at random, nothing to do with your actual interests. You didn’t have much of a sense of monetary value but it was clear even to you that your Moms’ had spent double, maybe even triple on your brother than they had on you.

Wanda took another photo of Brandon and that was when you realised she hadn’t taken a photo of you, not once. Natasha’s attention had already turned from you back to Brandon, beaming at him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Wanda wished him a Happy Birthday again and you watched, your bottom lip trembling and your eyes watering. Nobody noticed how upset you were.

“Why don’t we go for dinner at the Cheesecake Factory after school?” Wanda suggested.

Your brother had cheered; The Cheesecake Factory was his favourite whilst yours was Panda Express. There was no discussion of what to do or where to go, as if it wasn’t even your birthday too. For breakfast your Moms’ asked Brandon what he wanted for breakfast, but nobody asked you. It occurred to you then, that your Moms’ never asked you. Not just on your birthday but all year round. Your opinion was never considered, never even asked for. Brandon’s was, and you were expected to go with the flow.

That was the first time you’d truly realised that your Mom’s had a preference for your twin brother. But once you’d noticed, it was hard to stop seeing it every single day.

Over the years you realised that your brother’s achievements were celebrated, whilst yours were brushed over. If Brandon got an A, his test was displayed on the fridge, and Wanda would make her famous cookies, letting him have the first pick. If you got an A, Natasha would ruffle your hair and Wanda would say ‘well done’. When Brandon made the football team, your Moms’ had taken the two of you out for dinner at Texas Roadhouse, his new favourite place as his tastes changed. When a story you’d written had won a prize, you’d got the same ruffle of your hair and Wanda’s quiet ‘well done’.

It wasn’t just their reactions – they drove Brandon to football practice every Saturday, swimming on a Thursday, and guitar lessons on a Tuesday. You’d asked if you could learn the piano and had been told they’d ‘look into it’ only for lessons to never materialise. Sometimes you’d go downstairs and you’d find them all in the living room, having a ‘family movie night’ that you hadn’t been invited to. One time you’d even been left behind on a trip to Yellowstone and it had taken them an hour to return to collect you.

As you grew older your brother generally had more achievements than you. Brandon was the quarterback of the football team, achieved straight A’s, had a sensible girlfriend that your Moms’ loved. There was always something to celebrate.  You just about scraped passing grades, generally cruised for life laying low, flying under the radar.

What was the point in getting angry though? It wouldn’t change anything.

You’d tried to get your Moms’ attention after that disastrous eighth birthday. That night at the Cheesecake Factory you’d asked Natasha if you could have dinner at Panda Express the following evening, and she’d given you a look. “We’re out for dinner tonight for your birthday treat, we don’t need to go out again tomorrow. Don’t be so ungrateful.”

Once you’d gotten home, you’d picked up one of your new books and had shown Wanda. “Mom, will you read to me before I go to sleep?”

“You’re eight now Sweetheart,” Wanda had laughed, ruffling your hair. “I think you’re plenty old enough to read quietly by yourself before bed.”

You’d been so tired. After the Cheesecake Factory the four of you had gone to the local park so Brandon could try out his new skateboard. Your Moms’ had beamed and laughed while they watched him, taking even more photos. You’d found another girl to play with but it had been boring – you wanted to be at home, playing with the games console you’d been hoping to receive. If you’d been given a tamagotchi, you could’ve at least played with that while Brandon had messed around on his stupid skateboard.

What made your Moms’ lack of interest in you even harder was that you weren’t close to Brandon. Over the years Wanda had told you stories of how close she’d been to her own twin brother, the uncle that neither of you had gotten to meet. How they’d protected each other after their parents had died. In all media you’d seen with twins, they were the same – inseparable, making up their own secret languages, looking after each other.

It had been okay when you were really little. Brandon had been your playmate and the two of you had gotten up to adventures, played games at the family computer together, he’d let you sneak into his room for midnight feasts. But Brandon was outgoing and sociable whilst you were more reserved, and when he’d started school he’d gained a whole heap of friends whilst you hadn’t. He’d pulled away from you without a backwards glance.

Whenever your Moms’ had to go away for missions, Brandon would go and stay at a friend’s house, not contacting you at all, even when you messaged him to say you were worried about them, that you were terrified something was going to happen to them. When you’d been bullied at school, Brandon had looked the other way, pretending he didn’t even know you. At thirteen, you’d tried to tentatively bring up the difference in how the two of you were treated and he’d snapped at you. “Don’t be ridiculous. The Moms’ love us exactly the same. You’re always doing this, trying to be the centre of attention; it’s getting old Y/N.”

Your best friend, Cassie, often fumed about it, “Why wouldn’t you give him hell? Everything has always been about him and he has the nerve to say shit like that? Why wouldn’t you give him a piece of your mind?”

You’d shrugged your shoulders, “Why waste my energy? He’ll never agree and neither will my Moms’.”

Sometimes it was hard to remember that your Moms’ loved you. You supposed they must, even if they liked Brandon more, but the hardest part was realising that they didn’t know you at all. Your eighth birthday had been one example but at every turn, they proved that they didn’t know you very well. When you told them both that you were thinking of applying to do creative writing at college, Wanda had glanced at you. “I didn’t know you liked writing.”

“Well, yeah,” You’d said quietly. “I won that prize for that short story I wrote, remember?”

“You did?” Natasha asked. “That’s… Well done.”

You’d clenched and unclenched your fists, swallowing hard. “Anyway, I was gonna apply to California College of the Arts.”

Part of you had hoped there would be a discussion about how far that would be from home. How you could go if you wanted to but that they’d miss you, that you should call at least once a week, and that they’d make provisions for you to come back for the holidays. Natasha had carried on as if you hadn’t said anything whilst Wanda had simply asked, “Did you look into scholarships?”

“Yeah, I submitted some of my work to them. I’m just waiting to hear back.” Neither of your Moms’ replied and you swallowed hard again. “It’ll be weird. Being so far from home.”

“You’ve always been pretty independent,” Natasha said. “You’ll be absolutely fine.”

‘I had no choice but to be independent!’ You’d wanted to snap. But what would be the point? Life isn’t a movie, you’d realised a long time ago. There would never be a moment where they realised how badly they treated you compared to Brandon, would never be a moment where they gathered you into their arms and reassured you that they loved you just as much as him, that things would change from now. It just simply wasn’t going to happen.

“Besides, you can come whenever you want.” Wanda had said. That had lifted your spirits somewhat until she’d added, “If you can afford the airfare. You thinking of getting a part-time job while you study?”

“Yeah…” You mumbled. “Yeah, I guess so.”

When you’d received the confirmation of your scholarship, Natasha had ruffled her hair and Wanda had said that usual ‘well done’. Brandon got a party at the compound when the confirmation of his own placement at Columbia University came through.

You’d watched from the sidelines, feeling lonelier than ever when Tony had suddenly sidled up, handing you an envelope. “What’s this?”

“Congratulations on California. Consider this a going away gift.”

Your eyes had widened when you’d spotted the cheque inside the envelope. “Tony… I can’t accept this…”

“Of course you can. I’m your rich Uncle, I won’t miss it. You’ll need money at college for books and food and rent and well… I think golden boy over there will be getting far more financial help from home than you.”

You’d glanced over at Brandon and then at Tony, wondering how much he’d noticed over the years. For a moment you’d felt angry, annoyed that someone had noticed the difference between your treatment and hadn’t intervened, had never said anything to your mothers. Why was he telling you? Of course you’d noticed. None of the Avengers had ever really bothered with you; a lot of them often seemed surprised to find that Natasha and Wanda had a daughter, that your brother had a twin sister, even though all of them had met you multiple times. But then you’d seen the small smile on his face and the sad look in his eyes, and you’d realised that he felt bad. That this cheque was the peace offering – and you weren’t exactly in a position to turn it down.

“Thanks Tony,” You’d said quietly. “I appreciate it. Really.”

Your moving date finally arrives and you carry your boxes down to the front door. Brandon had moved out three nights ago and your Moms’ had made a big deal of making his favourite dinner, giving him a going away gift and spending time with him the night before. You hadn’t received any similar fanfare last night and you hadn’t expected to. You see Natasha in her Black Widow outfit in the kitchen and you pause, shifting the box in your arms. “Are you not coming with us?”

“What do you mean?” Natasha asks, clearly distracted.

“With me and Mom to move me in.”

“Wait, you seriously thought we were gonna drive you? Jesus Y/N, it’s two days just one way.”

You hesitate, the box feeling even heavier in your arms as you shift from one foot to the other. “Yeah but… I’m going to college.” There’s significance to that statement but Natasha just blinks at you. “I thought we’d make a road trip out of it, I could spend some time with you and Mom before I- I mean, you helped Brandon move in-”

“Y/N, come on, Brandon went local, it took less than a day to move him in.”

You feel your bottom lip begin to tremble and you bite it, willing yourself not to cry. “It’s just… You never asked me how I was getting there, so I guess I just assumed that-”

“You’re an adult now,” Natasha says, giving you a tired look. “You can’t rely on your Mommy’s to do everything for you forever. We thought you’d figured something out, maybe caught a ride with someone else who was moving from New York to California.”

You shake your head and mumble dejectedly, “No… No, I didn’t do that.”

“Well you’ll have to figure it out. I’ve got work to do and your Mom doesn’t have the time to drive you that far.”

Natasha presses a half-hearted kiss to your cheek as she leaves and you realise that you don’t even feel angry or disappointed. Not really. You’re not actually surprised that they’re not driving you to college. That Natasha might not see you now until Thanksgiving or maybe even Christmas, and that had been her goodbye. Wanda is upstairs but you know there’s no point in going up to ask her for a ride. Instead you take your phone out and text Tony, asking if you could have one more favour.

An hour later Happy appears outside, and it’s him who takes your boxes back and forth to the car. You wait in the hallway, glancing towards the staircase, not sure if you’re hoping that Wanda will come downstairs to wish you goodbye. Maybe you are hoping but you’re not expecting it, not really. There’s movement upstairs but she doesn’t make an appearance.

“I’ll wait in the car,” Happy says to you as he grabs your final box.

You hesitate, glancing towards the stairs one last time before shaking your head, “No need. We should probably get moving, it’s going to be a long drive.”

“I understand if you want to say goodbye, I’ll wait as long as you need-”

“I already did,” You lie. “I’m ready to go, seriously.”

As you climb into the car, you find that you don’t feel sad about not saying goodbye. The thought of not returning for Thanksgiving, Christmas, or any other holiday doesn’t fill you with dread. All you feel as Happy begins driving is a strange sense of calm and acceptance.

University will be different. You won’t be Brandon’s twin sister, the one stuck in his shadow, never getting to step into the spotlight. No one will ever even know you’re a twin. Finally, you’ll get to be yourself. As for your Moms- It’s hard not to stop the tears welling in your eyes as you remember the proud way they’d hugged Brandon when they’d left him at college. How they’d never looked at you with the bright, proud eyes that Brandon had grown to take for granted. How Wanda had stopped tucking you into bed not long after your tenth birthday but had continued to tuck Brandon in until he was twelve and had asked for to stop, and how you knew you wouldn’t have asked her to stop, not until the day you moved out. How you felt on your eighth birthday when you realised for the first time that your Moms’ might love you in their own way but they had never understood you, and had never cared about you the way they had Brandon.

It had taken all of your energy to tell yourself multiple times as a teenager that it wasn’t anything you’d done, or even anything that Brandon had done. He wasn’t any more special than you, not even if he had more achievements. Maybe you could’ve achieved higher results if your Moms’ had put a fraction of the effort they put into Brandon into you. If they’d let you learn piano, go to karate, join that young writers class, maybe you’d have more things to be proud of.

You turn slightly in your seat, spying the PlayStation 3 you’d managed to buy second-hand from your local flea market when you were fifteen, bought with money you’d saved from your paper route. If there was anything that you wanted in this life, you’d learnt ten years ago that you needed to get it yourself.

As you turn to face forward again, you think about your Moms’ again and wonder if they’ll even notice that you never intend to come home. That you’ll stay at college over every holiday and the moment you graduate, you’ll settle down anywhere, as long as it’s far away from New York and far away from the family who had never appreciated you. Would they even care? You’re not sure. But that’s not your problem anymore.

I think Scott as a teenager was rather dirty minded definitely does the joke of "Nobody can see what I'm looking at cause of my sunglasses". We all know what he's looking at. There not bad jokes just the funny "that's wbat she said" kind. That doesn't stop you two from making funny dirty jokes together. However he will lock in and focus when needed. You two are laughing at something in class and teacher tells you to shut up?? He's silent and straight backed.

He oddly knows a lot of things about hair?? Need him to barid ur hair he's got u (no that isn't specific to just girls with long hair)

He keeps photos of u guys together in his night stand

He learned how to drive before you and so he had to teach you (reminded him of when Alex taught him <3)

Scott ranting to you about Jean and him looking like a lovesick teenage girl.

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

[Reader] sat under a tree headphones on as they stared blankly at the lake in front of them.

"Hey" Scott said quietly sitting beside [Reader] Who took of their headphones but didn't look at him before answering.

"...hey"

"You okay?" Scott asked still watching them who just shrugged.

"....i dunno" [Reader] was silent watching the lake for a bit.

"...Scott?" They finally spoke out loud glancing over at Scott.

"Hm?"

:....do you think I'm weird?" [Reader] finally blurted out to Scott who just looked at them blankly for a bit.

"....well your a mutant so..." [Reader] sighed.

"No I mean like....weird weird"

"Well then you'd have to define weird more" [Reader] scoffed.

"..forget it" they mumbled putting there headphones back on. They sat in silence some more until Scott simply bumped there shoulder. [Reader] glanced back at Scott taking one headphone off.

"....you know a lot of people thought Jean was weird" He started. [Reader] raised an eyebrow.

"...and your point?"

"...I like being around weird people..."

"So you do think I'm weird?"

"Uhm-" [Reader] finally laughed a bit causing Scott to smile.

"...thanks Scott"

"For what?" [Reader] bumped their shoulder against Scott's now.

"Being here." Scott finally smiled.

"No problem."

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

[Reader] laid down on their stomach flipping the page of their book chin resting on yhe palm of their hand. They read for a bit then looked up at Scott who was sitting with his back leaning against a book shelf.

"....you know" [Reader] started. Scott looked over at them. "We need to make up a name for these study session"

"....we do?"

"Duh!" [Reader] exclaimed crossing their arms and resting their chin still looking up at Scott.

"...well is it really studying if I'm teaching you everything?"

[Reader] scoffed. "Your not teaching it just....giving the subject....flavor"

"Flavor?"

"Yes."

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

"Penny for your thoughts?" Scott asked [Reader] as he sat down next to them.

"I'll give you two nickels to shut up."

"Good to know." Scott quickly left the table.

***

*you and Scott both being given an assignment about taking care of a plant and Scott accidentally killing both of them with his laser eyes.*

"...so you want to go buy a plant from the store real quick?" [Reader] asked poking the now desd plants with their foot.

"No!" Scott quickly replied until he looked at his plant "...I'll go steal some keys..."

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

"Are you sure this is a good idea??" Scott asked worried adjusting his glasses.

"Absolutely! Now stay still!" [Reader] said aiming up the apple with Scott's head. "Alright! On three!" Scott nodded.

"One"

"Two"

"Three!" [Reader] threw the apple and Scott hit it perfectly causing it to cut in half and land on the ground.

"THAT WAS AWESOME!!!" [Reader] quickly ran to high five Scott. "Let's do it again but with a watermelon!"

And here’s the full image!

Basically the lore is that when I can’t sleep Stephen conjures up a beautiful view for me to relax to. This is the first time it happened- the moment he decided to make it a little tradition because he kept wanting to see that look on my face. 🫶🏻 eeeee I just love him lmao

Natasha stares at her screen until her eyes blur. The only thing eventually tearing her gaze away is the sound of her infant daughter whimpering in her bassinet. Natasha locks the screen and then lifts her daughter into her arms, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head, “It’s okay…” Natasha soothes. “Mama’s here. Mama’s got you.”

It’s late but Natasha never sleeps well when you’re not at home so she’d stayed up in the living room of the apartment you were both renting, moving your daughter’s bassinet in with her so Natasha could keep an eye on her. You’d reassured her the baby monitor was reliable, but Natasha liked having eyes on her daughter. What if someone snuck in and Natasha didn’t realise until it was too late? What if something happened with the bassinet and her little girl choked or tumbled out or got injured in some other horrific way? No, Natasha liked to be able to see her, liked to hear her little baby noises. Natasha never even minded if their little girl woke her up in the middle of the night, she was just grateful to know she was okay.

Your daughter, Mae, quietens down in Natasha’s arms, letting out a satisfied huff as she cuddles into her Mama. Natasha kisses her head again, wishing she’d just paid attention to the TV or her daughter instead of checking her phone. A message from Clint – ‘Nat, I want you to see this from me before anyone else sends it to you’.

Link to a social media website. A video of you, in a quiet corner of a club, a girl kissing you and pawing at your top. Only about seven seconds long but long enough. Hundreds of comments from strangers about how you’re cheating on her, how there’s a scandal within the Avengers team. It’s so embarrassing that it makes Natasha’s cheeks burn with humiliation.

Natasha wasn’t the kind of person who thought you should both be home with the baby at all times. You’d been happy to sit with Mae just last week when Natasha had gone out with Yelena, Kate and Carol, simply laughing and lightly teasing her the next morning when Natasha was too hungover to help with the childcare. It didn’t bother Natasha that you hadn’t come straight home after your mission, if you wanted a drink then you were free to go for one.

The video makes her heart hurt in a way that she didn’t think was possible though. Who even was that girl? Why were you out with her when Natasha was at home waiting up for you with your baby? Mae squirms slightly in Natasha’s arms as she gets comfortable, completely unaware of how Natasha’s entire world is falling apart. The two of you have fought before, of course you have, but never over anything serious. You’d snapped at Natasha when you’d thought she was over-babyproofing the apartment, Natasha had lost her patience with you when you’d eaten leftovers that she’d been looking forward to all day, even when you’d whined that ‘you had to because of your pregnancy cravings’. She’d kept losing her cool while you were pregnant, wanting you to take things slower, to go on maternity sooner, to stop going to training, and you’d kept whinging that you were fine, that you could handle it.

Natasha had never suspected you’d cheat on her though. Was this the first time or was it just the first time you’d been caught? Natasha’s eyes water again and she kisses Mae’s head to try and distract herself. Her phone beeps. Probably another message from Clint but she can’t face him right now. Mae drops back off to sleep but Natasha can’t bring herself to put her down, so she keeps gently rocking her in her arms, pressing another kiss to her little head.

It takes a further hour for Natasha to hear the front door open and close. She presses one more kiss to Mae’s head before slowly placing her back down in the bassinet. You appear in the doorway a moment later, looking like shit, your clothes rumpled and your lipstick smeared. Your cheeks are tearstained and you take a step towards Natasha, holding your arms out, “Baby-”

“I guess you know you’ve been caught,” Natasha says bitterly. Her voice is quiet, not wanting to wake Mae, no matter how angry she is.

You pause, your arms falling back to your sides. “What do you- Caught? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me Y/N. I know where you’ve been and I know you were with another girl.”

You hesitate, taking a step back. “Nat, I… What? I mean… Oh, I… Look, it… It wasn’t like that-”

“It wasn’t like that? Then what was it like then? Because it looked to me like you were out drinking and kissing other girls whilst I sat at home waiting for you. Whilst your daughter waited for you.”

“Nat-”

“I want you to leave.”

You blink at her in disbelief, “Nat… Come on. You- You don’t mean that-”

“Yes, I do. I can’t be around you right now or… Maybe ever.”

“But you haven’t even- Nat- I didn’t-”

“Fine,” Natasha says, folding her arms. “Tell me what happened. Tell me how I’ve misunderstood.”

You hesitate, wiping your hand on the fabric of your clothes as you open and close your mouth. Eventually you can only mumble, “It wasn’t like that, I swear it wasn’t. You have to believe me.”

Natasha shakes her head, blinking rapidly. She will not cry in front of you. “You need to stay somewhere else.”

“What about Mae? She’s still exclusively breastfed-”

“I still have some that you pumped in the fridge. You can see her at weekends but the moment she moves to formula, I will be going to court for full custody.”

“Nat, look, I- This is crazy, this has blown way out of proportion way too fast.” You run a hand over your face, swaying uncertainly on your feet. “I- Look, I’ll go somewhere else for tonight. Okay? It’s late and it’s not fair to Mae if we start fighting-”

“Don’t you dare talk about what’s fair for Mae,” Natasha hisses. “If you really cared about what was best for Mae then you wouldn’t have-”

“You’re right. Okay? You’re right. Just… Let’s not say things we don’t mean, okay? She’s my little girl too and I love her. I love you.” Natasha’s fierce glare makes you sigh. “Nat, can’t I just stay on the couch? I have no where else to go and I’m so tired-”

“You should’ve thought about that earlier. Maybe she’ll let you into her bed if you go and grovel, but it won’t work here.”

Natasha carefully lifts Mae out of the bassinet, cradling her in her arms as she carries her through to the bedroom the two of you share– used to share. Natasha settles her into her crib at the end of the bed, gently stroking her fingers over the baby’s head when Mae lets out a sleepy, half-hearted wail. Natasha can hear movement from the living room, and she feels hot anger in the pit of her stomach – if she goes through and finds you trying to sleep on the couch she will absolutely lose it. A moment later she hears the front door open and close, but the hot anger doesn’t disappear even now she knows you’re gone.

But now she’s alone, she will let the tears finally fall. After making sure Mae is definitely settled, she climbs into the large bed and sobs into your pillow. It smells of your shampoo, and it makes Natasha feel worse. Natasha wouldn’t have let herself fall in love with you if she’d known you were going to make her feel like this. Would never have had a baby with you if she’d suspected this was the kind of person you are. Natasha had learnt not to take loyalty and trust for granted – someone breaking her trust couldn’t be forgiven easily.

Natasha meant what she said. There’s no way she can forgive you for this, no way that she can move forward with you. You’ve committed the ultimate sin as far as she’s concerned. There’s nothing you can do to make this up to her.

Yelena opens the door, raising her eyebrows when she sees you standing there, “You look like shit.”

“I feel like it,” You mumble, looking just as bad as you had when you’d gone home earlier, maybe even worse. Your cheeks were now tearstained, your eyes red and bloodshot. Your clothes are in an even worse state because at one point on the journey over you’d simply sat on the pavement and had allowed yourself to sob loudly and openly, not caring who heard or saw you.

Yelena moves aside so you can stumble into the apartment she shares with her girlfriend. You give her a small, grateful smile as you head inside, “Where’s Kate?”

“On a stakeout with Barton,” Yelena replies. “Wanna tell me what you’re doing here in the middle of the night?”

You collapse heavily onto her couch, the corner of your mouth lifting up into another small smile when Lucky comes over to sniff your hand. You pet his head and as if sensing that you need comfort right now, he clambers onto the couch to sit on your lap. “Me and Nat had a fight.”

“Right. Well, given that she’s my sister I’m immediately on her side. Just so you know.”

“Yeah, I figured. Had no where else to go though. Sorry.”

Yelena rolls her eyes but she’s not in a hurry to kick you out. You’ve been dating Natasha for over five years, and Yelena knows you pretty well by now. You don’t have any family, and most of your friends were in your hometown which was miles away. You’d moved to New York when you’d been recruited to SHIELD, and then eventually to the Avengers. Although the Avengers were fond of you, Yelena knows you would’ve felt awkward turning up anywhere else, asking anyone else to put you up. Yelena and Kate were different – they were family.

“What happened? What were you fighting about?”

“I don’t… Really know.” You tell her, leaning your head back against the couch as you keep petting Lucky’s head. “Well… She was talking about a video; she said I’d been caught… I didn’t know what she meant at first, but I guess someone must’ve- Anyway, whatever. She told me to get out and that once Mae was on formula, she’d fight me for full custody.”

Yelena sits up straighter, “Oh, wow… She must’ve been really mad.”

“She didn’t mean it.”

Yelena doesn’t look so certain and you’re also not entirely sure yourself but you have to believe Natasha didn’t mean it. The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about. “Do you know what video she was talking about?”

After a moments hesitation you sigh, “I didn’t see it myself but… I think I know what she’s referring to. It just… It was out of context.”

Yelena leans forward, her hands on her knees, “Tell me.”

You focus on petting Lucky as you begin to tell Yelena the truth about what really happened tonight.

The mission had been a success, just as you’d known it would be. Simple one, you were only acting as a bodyguard for the president’s daughter for the evening. If anything, it had actually been pretty boring, just taking a teenager from A to B all day until she’d caught her flight home back to Washington. So dull in fact that you’d decided to go to your favourite bar, just for one drink. Natasha wouldn’t mind. You were looking forward to seeing her and Mae, but it was late. Mae would already be down for the night, and besides, it was just one drink. It wouldn’t delay you that much.

You’d been recognised the moment you walked into the joint and if you’re being honest with yourself, you’d quite liked that. It was always nice to meet people who were ‘fans’ of the work you did as an Avenger. Someone had offered to buy you a drink, to thank you for your service, so of course you’d accepted – who wouldn’t? Soon you were surrounded by people, and one drink had turned into two and then three before you’d lost count and were properly drunk, getting swept up in the excitement of the other patrons who were thrilled to be talking to an actual Avenger.

One girl in particular had hung around you a lot, looking for any excuse to touch you – brushing an imaginary hair off your shirt, grabbing your arm to ‘steady you’, it was constant. Eventually you’d gone to the bathroom, just to freshen up before heading home. It was so late now, Natasha would be getting worried and you’d felt yourself smile as you’d thought about your wife waiting for you at home. All you wanted to do was go home, sit with her and cuddle until you fell asleep in a drunken haze in her arms. Maybe she’d be mad but she’d get over it pretty quickly-

Your thoughts had been interrupted by someone else’s arms wrapping around your waist, someone else’s lips meeting yours. You’d been so taken aback that for a moment you hadn’t moved, your slow, drunken brain taking a moment to catch up. By the time you’d thought to try and squirm out of this stranger’s embrace, she’d pulled back and had started tugging at your top, trying to pull it off. “I won’t tell if you won’t,” She’d said in a voice that you assumed was supposed to be sexy.

You’d shoved her away, “I’m married! What the- Why on Earth would you-”

It was the girl from your table, and she’d simply wrapped her arms around you again, clinging to you. It felt horrible, suffocating and you shoved her again so fiercely that she’d fallen to the floor. Before she could react, you’d stumbled out of the club, tears streaming down your cheeks, still feeling the taste of her tongue in your mouth. It made you feel so sick that you’d had to stop at the side of the road to retch a few times, rubbing your hands around your waist as if you could somehow scrub away her touch. You’d sobbed harder, wishing that you’d just gone straight home, that you were at home with Mae in your arms, with Natasha’s arms around you.

You’d been so relieved to make it home, ready to collapse into your wife’s embrace, to forget tonight had ever happened. Natasha would make it all better, that was a belief you’d clung to the entire walk home. When you finally saw her in front of you, you’d nearly burst into tears again only for her face to harden when she looked at you. Someone must’ve filmed you. It must’ve been taken out of context. You’d opened your mouth to defend yourself-

“I didn’t want to look weak though,” You tell Yelena now. “I was so… I mean, I didn’t even tell her to stop! I just kind of let it happen to me. Didn’t even alert the staff or really give her a lesson, I just… Pushed her and then walked out. I’m supposed to be an Avenger and then I just-”

You’re interrupted by Yelena suddenly slapping you hard across the face. So hard in fact that it knocks the wind out of your sails and you gape at her, aghast, “Ow!”

“Well are you stupid?” Yelena snaps, her accent growing stronger as her anger grows. “Instead of telling your wife that you got assaulted you let her think that you were just cheating on her?”

“I-”

“You let her threaten to take custody of your daughter and kick you out on the streets and it never occurred to you even once to just open your mouth and talk to her?”

“Yelena-”

“You just told me everything that happened, why on earth wouldn’t you tell her?”

“Yelena, I-”

“You froze Y/N! That’s not the end of the world, you were in shock, someone put their hands on you when they absolutely shouldn’t have, I mean- Suka!” Yelena looks at the ceiling for a moment as if looking for strength whilst Lucky lets out an excited bark, wagging his tail happily. “Listen to me. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Nothing from the club anyway. She never should’ve touched you and you shouldn’t feel ashamed for not knowing how to react.”

“It’s just-”

“You should absolutely be embarrassed for letting Natasha think you cheated though. How embarrassed do you think she feels right now?” That makes you pause and Yelena rolls her eyes, “You can sleep on the couch for one night but tomorrow you are calling Natasha.”

“Yelena-”

“Do you want me to slap you again? Because I will.”

“No! I- Look- It’s not that simple-” Yelena raises her hand, and you quickly put your hands up. “Okay, okay, I’ll call her in the morning and tell her the truth! Jeez!”

Yelena rolls her eyes, muttering ‘Suka’ under her breath again as she heads towards her own bed, leaving you to sort yourself out. Lucky licks your cheek and you huff, pushing him off you as you hunt around for a pillow and a blanket. Maybe Yelena’s right – you might be embarrassed about what happened in the club but wouldn’t it be worse to have the whole world believing Natasha cheated on you? That’s the position Natasha’s in right now and it makes your face burn with regret. You’d been such a coward tonight.

When you wake up you feel a thousand times worse than you did the night before. Your throat is raw, your head pounding, and your back is aching from sleeping on Kate’s cheap couch. Yelena has left a glass of water along with a painkiller on the coffee table, and also a scribbled note which simply says, ‘CALL HER!!!’

You swallow the pill and then lap down the water desperately, groaning as you reach for your phone. You’re surprised to find twenty missed calls from Natasha along with a bunch of voicemails. You begin to listen to them, your head pounding in your chest as you realise Natasha was drunk.

“You need to tell me why you did this because it’s driving me crazy. I mean… I loved you! Fuck, I still do, I still do, despite everything, I… Call me and tell me why. You owe me an explanation.”

“I know you carried Mae but she’s still my daughter too. You’re not special, she’s my daughter too and I’m not going to be sidelined if we break up.”

“Why wasn’t I good enough Y/N?” Your heart breaks as you realise Natasha was crying by this point. “I thought we were made for each other, I thought you were my soulmate. I don’t understand. I don’t understand!”

You reach for your shoes, pulling them on. Yelena was right – even letting this go on for one night had been too long. Time to tell Natasha the truth.

At home Natasha is feeling just as wretched as you are. After you’d gone, she’d found that she couldn’t sleep so she’d crept into the kitchen and had finished the bottle of vodka she’d bought for pre-drinks last week. She’d regretted it the moment she’d done it, feeling guilty at the thought of her being too inebriated to help Mae if there was any kind of emergency. Then she’d felt angry with you, angry but also so sad. She’d wanted to speak to you, so she’d called. And then called again. And then again and again and again. Every time it went to voicemail it felt like a piece of Natasha’s soul was shattering.

She hadn’t slept a wink. She’d drank so much water to try and sober herself up that now she needs to pee every five minutes, but she feels more with it now, albeit exhausted. When Mae starts crying Natasha has enough energy to heat up her bottle before collapsing onto the couch with her, leaning back on the sofa as Mae feeds. Natasha loves feeding her baby, something she’d worried about when you said you were going to breastfeed. You’d made sure she could feel included though and Natasha had loved you for that. These were the moments where she felt closest to Mae, when she could provide for her like this.

Natasha hears the front door open and closed, and she quickly looks away when you walk into the living room. “I don’t have the energy to fight with you,” Natasha says quietly. “Are you here to collect your things?”

“No, I- I’m here to stop being an idiot,” You tell her. “Nat, please listen to me… I would never, ever cheat on you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, more than I’ve ever loved myself. You’re… You’re my girl Nat. I’d be crazy to cheat on you.”

Natasha sighs, keeping her gaze on Mae as she feeds, not daring to look at you, “I saw the video-”

“I haven’t seen it, but I know that I didn’t cheat. I do know though that…” You swallow hard, feeling stupid for still being embarrassed. “I was assaulted Nat. A girl kissed me, but I didn’t kiss her back, I swear. I hated every second of it, it felt horrible. I wish more than anything I’d just come straight home to you and Mae, but I wanted a drink, just one, it… Then one turned into too many, I was so stupid-”

“Y/N…” Natasha says quietly. “If you’re lying just so I’ll feel bad for you-”

“I should’ve shut it down last night when you jumped to cheating. I didn’t realise it had been filmed; it took me off guard, I just wanted… I just wanted you Nat, just wanted to cuddle with you. I should’ve told you from the get-go, but I was so embarrassed. I mean… I’m an Avenger for God’s sake and she was just some girl, I should’ve- I should never have- But I wouldn’t cheat Nat. And I’ll do anything I can to prove that to you, anything at all.”

Mae finishes feeding and then lets out a happy gurgle at the sound of your voice. Natasha doesn’t protest when you cross the room and carefully take your little girl into your own arms, kissing her tiny cheek. “Mommy’s home now,” You say softly, bouncing her in your arms as you take a seat on the couch next to Natasha. “I should’ve come straight home to you, shouldn’t I? Shouldn’t I, precious?”

Natasha watches you with their child for a moment, her eyes still misty. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” She asks quietly. “Why would you let me think that?”

“Honestly, I- I was still a bit drunk and it… Made sense at the time. I was so embarrassed but… Well, Yelena quite literally slapped some sense into me.”

Natasha smiles at that, leaning her head on your shoulder, “You mean the world to me. I was heartbroken when I saw that video. I really thought…”

You lean your head against hers and mumble, “I would never. I would never do that to you. You know how I feel about family Nat. You and Mae are everything to me, I would never do anything to risk that. There is nobody that could turn my head, nobody at all.”

“Not even Megan Fox?” Natasha teases lightly.

You smile, knowing that the teasing means Natasha’s beginning to forgive you. “Well that’s not entirely fair,” You tease back, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You know I love ‘Jennifer’s Body.’”

Natasha hums before yawning, “You’re on baby duty today.”

“Understood.”

“And I want you to rub my feet whilst I take a nap. Then when I wake up, you can rub my back. And it’s your turn to cook tonight. No ordering takeout, I want something homemade.”

“Want me to bake you a cake while I’m at it?”

“Now that you mention it, yes. I would like that.”

You grin, turning your head to capture her lips in a proper kiss, “I love you so much.”

“I love you more,” Natasha replies. “Just… Don’t ever do that to me again.”

“Never. Next time, I’m coming straight home.”

Maria smiles as you climb into the passenger’s seat of her car, “Hey kid. Good day at school?”

You glare at her, putting your headphones into your ears and staring straight ahead sulkily. Maria simply smiles to herself again as she pulls away from the kerb, having not expected anything more. She’d teased Tony a few times that she’d been put on ‘babysitting duty’, but she didn’t mind picking you up really. It was one of the few areas of her job where she felt she could truly relax. Besides, your grumpiness didn’t bother her. She liked you.

Maria does the school run for you most days but if she’s not available for any reason the Avengers take turns. There isn’t one of them that you aren’t sullen with, not one of them that you seem to be closer to than the rest. Steve had been hopeful, used to having a laid-back way with teenagers but you’d ignored all his efforts to try and relate to you. Tony had tried too, hoping his more playful method would bring you out of your shell but that had been rejected too. He’d even tried to bribe you with a candy bar, and you’d simply rolled your eyes, turning your music up louder.

Maria talks steadily to you as she drives back towards the Avengers compound, assuming that your music is too loud to hear her but trying anyway just in case. You’ve been living at the compound for three months now, ever since the Avengers saved you from Hydra. Everyone else they’d rescued from that facility had been an adult, and had been rehabilitated into the community but as you were younger it was proving more difficult. None of them wanted you to go into a group home but finding a prospective family for a traumatised teenager was proving almost impossible. In the meantime, you were to remain in the Avengers custody.

“Nat fell out with Stark again, not that I blame her. He loves to wind people up, something I’m sure you’ve noticed. Sometimes he goes just a little bit too far. Anyway, he’s going out of town for a few days so hopefully everything will blow over by the time he gets back, and everyone can breathe a little easier. It’s not that people even dislike Stark, it’s just that… Well, he can be a lot sometimes. Clash of personalities.”

You glance over at her and that’s when Maria realises that you’re taking in every word, even with your headphones in. So she continues, “I try not to get involved. Stark’s annoying sure but his hearts always in the right place so what else can you ask for? I can see why it irritates Natasha though. She’s normally so unflappable but somethings been bothering her lately.”

You hesitate before offering quietly, “What do you think it is?”

Maria raises her eyebrows, surprised that you’ve asked her a question. “I don’t know,” She admits. “Maybe you could investigate for me.”

You shrug, “No one tells me anything.”

“Huh,” Maria says. “Well, how’s about we look at your homework when we get back? I could make you a snack and-”

She hears you scoff and that’s when she hears the faint music starting to come from your headphones, signalling you’ve turned it up louder to tune her out again, blocking her out just as quickly as you’d let her in. Maria sighs, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel before putting the radio on low. If you weren’t going to talk to her…

Once you’re back at the compound Maria tries to direct you to the kitchen to have a look at your homework, but you ignore her, slinking off to your bedroom and slamming the door behind you. Wanda raises her eyebrows as Maria sits down, running a hand through her hair but they all leave you to it, appreciating you might need some time to decompress after a full-on day at school.

As suspected you do appear in the kitchen at dinnertime. No matter how bad of a mood you’re in, they can count on you to appear in the kitchen at mealtimes, and they’ve been careful to serve them at the same time every day. Food can make you anxious, probably because you didn’t get much of it in Hydra and if any meal is late you start to stress. At seven o’clock on the dot the evening meal is served, and you sit down at the far end of the table, opening the book you’ve been reading and holding that in one hand whilst you use the other to carefully eat.

Clint takes a seat opposite you, nudging your foot with his, “Hey kid. Whatcha reading?” You glare at him over the top of your book before turning your gaze back to the printed words, not responding. Clint tilts his head so he can peer at the cover, “Looks good. Are you enjoying it?”

You sigh like this conversation is painful to you before nodding, keeping your gaze on the words. “I like reading,” Clint says. “Don’t always get much time to do it though between work and family.”

Slowly, you begin to lower the book, and you ask in a small, tentative voice, “What kinds of books do you like?”

“Action and Sci-Fi mostly. You can never go wrong with Jurassic Park.” He looks at your book cover again then grins, teasing, “This might be a bit ahead of you though. Wouldn’t you rather read… I don’t know, ‘The Hunger Games’ or something?”

Your guard is instantly back up, and so is your book as you fix him a fierce glare before turning back to your reading. Clint raises his eyebrows so Wanda takes a seat next to you, “Hey! Did anything fun happen at school today?”

“If you have any homework, we’d be happy to look at it with you,” Clint perseveres when you don’t reply. “Can’t honestly say we’ll be able to help with everything, but we can try. I’ve got three kids, all of them-”

“For fucks’ sake, I’m not a kid so will you please stop treating me like one?” You snap, your voice raising louder than any of them have ever heard it. Clint is about to apologise when you suddenly stand and pick up your plate before throwing it at the wall with a ferocious scream, the food splattering against the surface, the plate breaking with a loud bang.

“Wow, Y/N,” Steve says, standing up. “Calm down.”

“I’m sick of you all talking down to me all the time! It’s so annoying! I’m not an innocent little kid!” You burst into tears as you grab your book and run out of the room.

Everyone looks at each other, not sure what to do. Steve is about to offer to go after you when Wanda stands up, giving him a small smile, “I’ll go. It’s okay.”

Wanda finds you in your bedroom, a room that you hadn’t bothered to decorate. “What’s the point?” You’d snarled when Tony had suggested getting you some posters. “You’re only going to ship me off the second you can find someone to palm me off to anyway.”

Your book has been left abandoned on your desk and you’re lying on your bed, face down in your pillow as you sob. Wanda hesitates in the doorway for a moment before crossing the room and sitting tentatively on the edge of your bed. You feel the bed dip beneath her weight, but you don’t say a word which Wanda takes as a positive. She doesn’t try to touch you yet, she simply talks instead, her voice soft. “I moved here after the mess that happened with Ultron in Sokova. Did you hear about that?”

You nod, sniffling, “Yeah, they let me watch it on the news.”

“It was really hard finding my place in the Avengers,” Wanda says. “I have these amazing powers. I’m arguably the most powerful Avenger… Well, I was until Carol came along but… Well, it was difficult sometimes. I’d lived so long fending for myself. Yes, I always had my brother by my side, but I wasn’t some clueless kid. The moment I arrived here I might as well have been though, as far as everyone else was concerned. The American culture was different, I was mourning my brother, I was so homesick. People misunderstood that for weakness, and they treated me like I didn’t know what I was doing. It was really frustrating sometimes.”

“I don’t have any powers,” You mumble tearfully.

“No,” Wanda says. “But you know a thing or two about looking after yourself.”

You let out a small sob and Wanda waits patiently, not pressuring you to talk immediately. After a moment she puts a hand on your shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. You don’t push her away. Wanda sighs, “Can you try and tell me what’s bothering you?”

You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice from cracking as you speak, “Everything.”

“I see. Can you give me some examples?”

You take a deep breath, sitting up so you can face her, tears still trickling down your cheeks. “I’m not… Dumb. I know I’m only twelve. I know that technically I’m a kid but I’m also… Not.”

Wanda nods thoughtfully, “And it bothers you when we treat you like one?”

“I don’t like being called ‘kid’, it’s so patronising. And I don’t like constantly being asked about school and homework and all these… Normal things because… How am I supposed to be normal? It’s like… None of you have any idea what I went through but now I’m free, I’ve been shipped off to public school and I’m expected to just know what to do, and I don’t.”

Wanda nods again, reaching out to take your hand in hers, “Can you tell me? About your days in Hydra?” You hesitate and Wanda squeezes your hand, “Maybe you don’t know this but I actually volunteered to be part of a Hydra experiment. I had a choice and I made the wrong one. I sided with the bad guys. But you didn’t have a choice Y/N. So whatever you tell me, I won’t be judging. I’m just listening.”

You take a shaky breath and tell her, “I… They never sent me out on missions. They said I was too young; I was working up towards them but they… I had to practice. They brought people in, people that they said were enemies and I…” Your voice drops to a whisper as you admit in the quietest voice Wanda’s ever heard, “I killed them. But that’s not even the worst thing. I did so many bad things because they told me to and if I didn’t, bad things happened to me, bad things that I don’t like thinking about because they make me feel sick and like the walls are closing in on me…”

Wanda can see that for all the teams babying of you, you’ve mostly been left to fend for yourself, to navigate what had happened to you without any guidance. As if rescuing you was the end of your recovery journey, rather than the beginning. As if school, hot meals and a warm bed were all you needed. “Did anyone talk to you about therapy?”

You sniffle, “I’m not… They said I could have it but better to do it after I’ve moved.”

And when would you move? Next week, next month, next year? How long were you supposed to put your life on hold before you could start to move on from the terrible things that had happened to you? You were in limbo but expected to act like you were perfectly fine. “I’ll talk to the others,” Wanda offers. “Get them to stop calling you ‘kid’.”

You nod, quickly wiping the tears on your face with your free hand. Wanda gives you a small smile, “How is school? Have you made any friends?” You swallow hard again before shaking your head. “Is it difficult?”

“I don’t know what they’re all talking about,” You admit tearfully. “They keep making these jokes like… And I don’t get them, and they all want to talk about things I’ve never heard of and- They think I’m weird, but I just can’t… I can’t relate to them. I’m a kid who isn’t a kid anymore.”

Wanda moves across the bed to sit next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You don’t resist, leaning your head on her and letting out another sob. “I’m kind of limited on what I can do,” Wanda says. “But I’ll speak to Stark about your school too. Y/N… I know you went through a lot and you probably can’t play or relax like other kids you age but… It’s okay to still need us. It’s okay to still need some adult guidance.”

“It just makes my blood boil when I try to talk to people and I get shot down then all they talk to me about is stupid kids’ stuff. Or how they don’t let me in on their precious adult conversations when I’ve heard far worse than whatever mundane shit they’re talking about and it’s like… I can tell they’re thinking I’m just being a broody teen and that’s not fair.”

“I get it,” Wanda says. “Trust me, I get it.”

That night Wanda stays with you. At first she tries to resist the urge to tuck you into bed but you don’t seem to mind her physical comforts so she gives in, smoothing out the blankets and then lying down next to you, one arm around you as you continue to cry quietly until you fall asleep. You didn’t finish all of your dinner last night, so Wanda makes sure you have a good breakfast before setting off to school that morning.

Afterwards it’s Maria who picks you up again. This time when you slide into the passengers seat you don’t put your headphones on straight away but you glance at her, offering quietly, “Is Natasha still mad at Tony?”

Maria smiles as she begins driving, “I think so but Tony hasn’t been here to irritate her, he left late last night. He’ll be in Copenhagen for a couple of weeks.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

“Definitely,” Maria says. “Hey, I never meant… I never meant to irritate you when I went on about homework. I guess I just thought I was looking out for you.”

“I get it,” You say quietly. “And I appreciate it.”

“And I know you don’t like being called ‘kid’, Wanda told me. Not that I can blame you, I wouldn’t want to be called a baby goat either.” You can’t help but give a small laugh at that and Maria smiles, “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Like I said, I appreciate it. Having someone to look out for me.” You look out the window thoughtfully. “For however long I’m with the Avengers anyway.”

“I wanted to talk to you about that actually,” Maria says, keeping her own gaze out the window in front of her. “So um… There aren’t a lot of prospective adopters out there looking for a teenager and it… Well… I like you. And I thought that we got on okay, maybe not always but- God, this is a lot of words when all I really want to ask is, what do you think about coming to live with me?”

You glance at her, surprised. Maria mistakes your hesitation and continues talking, “I know I haven’t always said the right thing and I probably will be painfully dull, moaning at you about homework and… Whatever. But I do care about you. And you can still see the Avengers whenever you want, I know that Wanda, Steve, Sam, they all care about you and… Maybe you don’t want to and if you don’t that’s fine, I won’t be offended, I just thought-”

“No, I want to,” You say quietly, your voice thick with emotion.

Maria smiles and nods, having to swallow hard herself before speaking, “Well then… That’d be great. I’ll… I’ll see what I can do. Leave it with me ki- Leave it with me. I’ll get it sorted.”

The world turns blurry behind your tears as you turn to gaze out the window again. You’re not sure what Maria knows about your time with Hydra, and whether she would still be so keen to adopt you if she knew everything that you’d done. But she’s nice. Better than nice. And if it means you can keep in touch with the other Avengers whilst still having somewhere to call home… Well, even better.