w.m. & n.r. | oneshots

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 | natasha romanoff

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Summary: what if you met natasha in ohio? 

NOTE: i guess you can call this the childhood au. but the timeline is a little bit messed up 

loosely based on the song alone by nico collins

WARNING: mention of physical abuse

The Pain before the Love

You often fought with your father. You never got along with him no matter how much your mother sweet-talked you into talking with your father. Even as an eight-year-old, your conversation with your father would turn into a full-out shouting match.

"I don't wanna go!"

"Do you want to die an idiot?" Your father roared, but you were unaffected.

Your mother watched from the doorway as you clung to your school backpack and shouted back. "I'll only go to school if you give me a reason!"

He slapped you, and your mother gasped from the doorway but hesitated to do anything. "Go to school you insolent brat!"

You refused to let any emotion show on your face and followed your mother out the door. She didn't say anything, and you didn't say anything to her either. What kind of mother watched her husband hit their child and hesitated to do anything?

It was only when the two of you got in her car did she turned around with a concerned look. You refused to meet her eyes when she asked you a question. "Did something happen at school?"

And even in the safety of her car, she never addressed the abuse going on in your household. You scowled and glanced out the window. "The kids are really mean, and I already know all the things they're teaching."

Your mother sighed, turning a corner. "Try to make some friends."

"Okay," your words were quiet and lacked sincerity. You were busy counting the buildings you were passing by, ignoring the sting on your cheek. It hurts, but you had long gotten used to the hits and punches your father often threw your way.

Turning another corner, your mother pulled into a parking lot, turning to face you. "I'm getting a cup of coffee, stay in here, okay darling?"

"Yes mama," you whispered, your eyes glancing at the digital clock in the car. You were late, but you didn't say anything, watched as your mother locked the car door and walked towards Starbucks.

You hummed quietly, pulling your knees up to your chest and laying your cheek on it, staring out to the parking lot. The sky was gloomy that day, and soon enough, the first drop of rain fell. You watched with fascination as the water dropped. Then it stopped and your mother was back with her cup of coffee.

She handed you a bag of ice and you placed it on your cheek, feeling the sting lessen. "You're the sweetest daughter I can ask for," she smiled, and you gave her a small smile.

The rest of the drive was silent and you continued to stare out the window. She pulled into the school's parking lot, and you grabbed your backpack before waving your mother goodbye. "Have a nice day, darling."

"Bye, mama," you gave her another wave before walking into school. You were an hour late but you made it to class. Your teacher gave you a disapproving look but you ignored it, finding your seat in the back of the class, beside a redhead you had seated next to since the first day of school.