wanda x daughter one shots

you can't be sad and hungry

warnings: just a lot of sad stuff:(

age: 16

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Y/N's POV

"Billy, Tommy, stop mucking about. Mom will be downstairs any minute and the last thing she needs today is you two being difficult," I scold my younger brothers. Having two eleven year olds in the house while trying to ensure your mom has a stress-free day isn't an easy task.

The tenth of February. My mom's birthday.

That's not the only person whose birthday it is, though. It's also my Uncle Pietro's.

I never got to meet him, mom found out she was pregnant just after the battle of Sokovia, courtesy of one of the Hydra guards impregnating her. Involuntarily, might I add.

Every year, she spends her birthday trying her hardest to prove to everyone she's completely fine. Is it convincing? No. We've been trying to coax her into allowing herself to feel for years on end, but it's never worked.

"Dad," Tommy whines, "Y/N's being bossy again."

I scoff and roll my eyes at his attempt to get me in trouble, I know Vision's on my side for this.

"I know she's a bit bossy, but-" Vision starts, but I quickly cut him off.

"Hey! I am not bossy. And even if I am, it's only because I'm trying to ensure my mother has a nice birthday. Not my fault I'm her favorite child."

"You are so not the favorite," Billy retaliates, putting his hands on his hips.

"Y/N, you know we don't have favorites," Vision tries telling me, but I don't care. I know I'm mom's favorite, I'm her only daughter.

Only moments later, we all shut up as we hear footsteps coming down the stairs. We quickly grab the party poppers just as mom appears in the kitchen.

"Happy birthday!" we all exclaim in unison, popping the party poppers so that confetti explodes everywhere.

"Thank you, loves," mom says kindly, trying her best to keep the faltering smile.

"Happy birthday, darling," Viz tells her, bringing her in for a kiss before she gives all three of us kids a hug, me being last.

The good thing about me being last is that I get the longest hug. The downside to that, however, is that when we pull away and I get a good look at her, I see how pink her cheeks have gotten from crying. Nothing gets past me.

"You're allowed to be sad," I whisper to her while the others are distracted talking about breakfast. We always do breakfast before presents, because we all get cranky without food.

"I'm fine," she tries to convince me, I give her that look. "I am fine, Y/N. I'm telling you."

Not being convinced in the slightest, I grab ahold of one of her hands and squeeze it lightly so she knows I'm here.

It isn't long before Vision starts talking again. "What do you say to silver dollar
pancakes, crispy hash browns, bacon, eggs, freshly squeezed orange juice and black coffee?" he asks mom, I watch as she tenses up.

"I'm not hungry, thanks."

Bullshit. I know she's hungry, how could she not be? She barely had any dinner last night. That was due to her 'pre-birthday blues' as I like to call it.