Natasha Romanoff x Reader Oneshots

anxiety tics

nat x daughter figure

age: 15

tw: anxiety (tics), anxiety attack 

word count: 1,1k

 ————

Natasha's POV:

Today is another of Tony's parties- no one really knows what we're celebrating here not that anyone cares anyway. When there's alcohol and pretty girls everyone is happy- sometimes I hate humanity.

I've known y/n for a good couple years now and we've become really close. I see her as the daughter I believed I never would have get and I know I'm the closed thing to a mom she has- not that she calls me 'mom' but I don't care about that.

As I know her that well, I'm very aware of her anxiety especially around drunk men. It got worse over the years and now sometimes even ends in anxiety or panic attacks. 

Having this in mind I occasionally glance over to her, getting a read on her current state of mind. Y/n's a little 'different' in showing her anxiety, a lot of people start bouncing their leg or to fidget with something when they get anxious but y/n's way of showing it is mostly ticking. 

She starts to throw her head back in a painful way or hits her wrists so hard together that she gets bruises from it. We had a talk about it a little while ago and she told me that it basically feels like sneezing, so her body starts to 'tickle' and in order to relieve that tension she has this tics. That is not something she can control and she's desperate to suppress it, but most of the time that only makes it worse.

I'm chatting with Clint, Thor and Rodey as my eyes travel across the room to my daughter again, just to see her sitting on her hands. All her neck muscles are tensed and she's clearly not following the conversation between Peter and Tony. 

I politely excuse myself from the group and make my way over to her. Now standing behind her, her head is pressed against my stomach and my hands make its way to her neck starting to softy massage it, to help her muscles relax. A nearly inaudible sigh of relieve leaves her mouth as she feels my presence and touch.

About a minute later I feel her hand on mine, giving it three gentle squeezes- my sign to take her somewhere else, somewhere quiet. So I walk around the couch hold out my hand for her to take, which she gladly does, and lead her out of the enormous amount of people that fills the tower at the moment. I take her to my bedroom and as I close the door tears shoot in her eyes.

"Shhh, hey it's okay" I coo and pull her in a hug. I place a firm hand on her head as I feel it being forced back in the back of y/n's neck. "I'm gonna lie us down" I decide as it happens over and over again, not wanting this to end in some kind of episode.

"Come here" I say and pat a spot next to me. She snuggles into me and rests her head on my shoulder so I can lay my arm around her and steady her neck. "I'm sorry for making you leave, Tasha" she mumbles quietly "Hey, don't say that, you're so much more important than one of Tony's stupid parties, детка (baby)" I say to which she smiles.

"Should we watch a movie or something, hun?" I ask and look down at her. "Uhm, maybe Private Practice?" she ponders "Of course" I smirk, knowing it's her go-to comfort show, and put it on.

-

As her wrists are forced together for the third time in a row I move my focus from the tv to y/n just to see tears steaming down her face. "Hey, what's up, my love?" I ask and place a blanket between her arms to somehow absorb the impact. 

"Why can't I be normal?" she whimpers "Oh sweetheart" I say and place a kiss on her head while pausing the tv "No don't give me that talk" she says with her voice breaking "You and the team are the only ones who doesn't seem to care about this" she continues and signs to her wrists for the last part "Everyone else sees me as a stupid freak who's faking tourette for attention. They mock me every day, every single day. 'Y/n look' they say and press their wrists together 'Y/n do the Avengers give you that less attention that you have to do this to get some kind of love?'" she cries, my heart breaks at her words, she never told me this "Do they think this is funny!?" she wails "It hurts Natty, it hurts"

"Shh, it's okay" I coo and pull her closer "they don't know what they're talking about, love, they have no idea"

She wraps her arms more tightly around my body, craving some comfort in her pain, physically and emotionally. "Shh, you're okay, everything is gonna be just fine" I whisper and move my hand up and down her back while the other one holds her head on my chest.

After a couple moments she still didn't calm down and her breathing just seems more erratic so I think of something that always calmed her as a kid, no matter how worked up she was "Skin-to-skin?" I ask carefully to not startle her and she nods in my chest.

"Alright give me a second" I say and lift her up so that she's sitting in front of me. At the loss of contact her head almost instantly flys back in her neck and her soft gasps for air increase. "Alright hold up, you're doing great" I say and reach for my nightstand to get the lavender oil and a bottle of water. 

"You're okay with lavender?" I ask as I normally just keep it there for myself, she nods. I get rid of the shirt I'm wearing and spread a little bit of the oil across my chest before seeing that y/n did get rid of her shirt as well. She's about to lay down again as I stop her "Wait one more second, okay? I need you to drink a little bit, it's gonna help with your breathing" I instruct and handle her the bottle.

As she throws back her head again I pull her closer, wrap an arm around her body and steady her hand to help her drink.

I won't say her breathing is back to normal, because it's definitely not, but after the drink it's a little calmer than before so I lay down and place her head on my chest again, the blanket keeping us warm.

"Alright, focus on my heartbeat, you're gonna be okay" I whisper and draw calming patterns on my back.

————

not proof read, I'm too lazy for that today lol

anygays, I keep struggling with those exact same tics and I have no idea where they just came from qvq And I have this guy in my class and he tells me every time I do this wrist thing that I'm doing it for attention and I'm like- what, LIKE IT'S NOT FUNNY HAVING BRUISED WRISTS LIKE ALL THE TIME HUH