Natasha Romanoff x Daughter Oneshots

Hurtful words pt. 2

Age: 9
Warnings: mommy issues ahead but also fluff
Word Count: 1217

Sometimes I wish I never had you.

God, those words cut deeper than a knife ever could. Seven words was all it took to shatter your heart into pieces too tiny to repair.

It had been days since those words were said aloud and your mother made no effort to take those words back. You tried giving her the benefit of the doubt–thinking maybe she just didn't realize that you heard her.

But even then, those words came from somewhere. She meant it.

"Y/n?"

You glanced up at your Uncle Steve as he stepped into your bedroom, taking a seat on the edge of your bed.

"What are you working on?" He asked gently, craning his neck to look at the colorful paper in front of you.

You shrugged as you turned your attention back to the drawing. It wasn't your best piece of art, but it showed just how you saw your family.

Two stick figures, one with a star on his chest and the other holding his hand. You had drawn another stick figure off to the side that somewhat resembled your mother–though instead of a smile, you had drawn a scowl.

Dark angry scribbles covered the stick figure that was your mother while hearts surrounded the two that resembled you and your uncle.

Steve sighed at the drawing. "Did mommy upset you?" He questioned cautiously as he got up from your bed and kneeled beside you.

He noticed your tear stained cheeks and immediately began running his hand up and down your back.

You threw yourself into his arms, sobbing violently. He didn't waste a minute, picking you up and holding you close to his chest.

"Why doesn't she love me?" You whimpered once you had calmed down a bit.

"She does love you." He told you. "I promise you, she does."

"No she doesn't." You argue.

Steve sat down on the edge of your bed, readjusting you onto his lap. "What happened?"

You leaned your body against his and picked up his hand, playing with his fingers. "She said she wished she never had me." You mumbled into his shirt.

___

Steve stormed into your mother's office, his posture stiff. His chest moved with each heavy breath he took and Natasha was a bit nervous.

"What's going on?" She asked, standing up from her chair and backing away. She had never been one to back away from a fight, her instinct was telling her to protect herself. And she trusted nothing more than her instincts.

Steve slammed his fist down on her desk, causing Natasha to physically flinch. She hated herself for it, for showing her fear, but she had never seen Steve act like this and it scared her.

"You told y/n that you never wanted her!?" Steve bellowed.

Natasha brought a hand up to her head. "She heard that?" She mumbled, feeling like a complete asshole of a mother.

"How could you say that?"

"I didn't mean it!" Natasha argued. "I-It was a misunderstanding. I was stressed and she had just spilt coffee everywhere-"

"Nat, that is no excuse!" Steve yelled. "Do you know what she's doing right now?"

Natasha cringed guiltily. "...no."

"She's defacing a stick figure of you!" Steve yelled, running a hand over his face. "She's furious, she's upset and she thinks you don't love her!"

"What?"

"She doesn't think you love her." Steve reiterated.

Natasha finally sat back down, tears filling her eyes quickly. "But I do." She whispered. "I love her so damn much."

Steve kneeled beside her. "Then you need to tell her. Apologize and show her how much you love her."

___

It took a few hours for Natasha to work up the courage. She paced her office multiple times trying to come up with the right apology. She had even written herself a script–though it ended up in the trash along with all the other terrible scripts.

Finally, just when she thought she was ready to apologize, her mind came up with another response you might respond with.

She had prepared through all the easy ones. Tears, forgiveness, yelling. But she didn't prepare through the most likely one: ignoring.

Once again she paced, thinking of all the possible outcomes to this apology. She hasn't been a good mother–even when she was trying she wasn't trying enough–and this apology had to show you that she won't give up.

Natasha found herself at your bedroom door, her fist rapping against the wood. Her heart was beating faster than it does during missions. She was starting to think her mind gets life and death situations confused with normal situations.

"Go away, Uncle Steve." You yelled through the door. "I don't want to talk."

Natasha took a deep breath. "Honey, it's mama."

She could practically hear your eyes roll to the back of your head. "Go away."

Natasha couldn't give up. "Please, детка. We need to talk."

"No." You sassed. "You just want to talk and I have no interest in talking to you!"

Natasha almost stumbled back from the door in shock. It scared her how much she sees herself in you. Maybe–just maybe–that was why she chose to stay away. Maybe because she couldn't handle seeing herself getting a childhood she had longed for.

But really all she had done was ruin yours. You grew up with an uncle–who isn't really your uncle–looking after you. You had to deal with neglect from your own mother. And now, to top it all off, you hear her saying she wished you had never been born.

Natasha was a shit excuse for a mother. But she will be damned if she doesn't do something to fix it.

"Детка, I'm so so sorry." She apologized through the door. "I never should have said that, even in private, because it is not true."

You opened the door suddenly, staring up at your mother with a similar glare she likes to wear.

"I don't believe you." You stated, leaving the door open and walking back into your room. Natasha took the open door as an invitation and sat down beside you.

"I understand." Natasha replied. "I haven't been the mother you needed. I've neglected you and hurt you more time than either of us can count. I am truly sorry and I will be better, I promise."

You eyed your mother suspiciously, still not truly believing her.

"Those two days, were the best damn days of my life." Natasha told you with a smile. "I could have tried harder and I will. I love you so much y/n, and I need you to know that."

"I do." You nodded.

"Do you?" She questioned worriedly. "Uncle Steve may have mentioned something about thinking I hate you."

You sighed, dropping your eyes to your lap. "I do now." You revised, giving your mother a slight smile.

She pulled you into a hug, running her hand through your long auburn hair. She placed a few kisses on the top of your head, getting a little chocked up at the thought of not being around enough to hug you like this. "I can get used to this." She joked.

"Me too mama."