Natasha Romanoff x Daughter One Shots

she knows

Age: 16

Y/N:
Is sneaking out to get high with your friends the best idea when the Black Widow is your mother? No. It most definitely is not. Do I keep doing it? Yes. Should I stop? Also yes.

You see, my mom might be a highly trained assassin with the highest rank in espionage, but so I am. Well, I have the second highest rank but close enough. So what I'm saying is, I never get caught.

My mother would kill me if she found out I had been sneaking out, let alone getting high.

I don't know how or why I started doing it, but it's become a habit. For those few hours I'm out with my friends, I feel somewhat normal. Like I fit in. Which is something I very rarely feel in my life.

I was raised in the red room. I'm an avenger. I live with a bunch of adult orphans in a literal tower. Nothing about my life is normal.

Tonight my friends and I sat on the roof of Midtown, our school. The views nice up here. It's peaceful. Plus it's a lot quieter than sitting on top of a building in Manhattan which is where we'd usually go.

"Pass," I order, holding my hand at for Brooke to give me a joint.
Just as I go to bring it up to my mouth, I feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket.

As I take it out I see a message from my mom.

mamabear: Y/N Romanoff!

I sigh heavily before replying; what?

mamabear: I know you've been sneaking out and I've had enough of it. Get your ass home right now.

me: new phone, who dis?

mamabear: I'm not playing around, Y/N. If you're not home in the next twenty minutes you will be grounded for months!

I groan and lock my phone, not bothering to reply to moms message. "I gotta go," I sigh, standing up as I pass the joint back to Brooke. "Why?" She asks. "Mom found out I've been sneaking out and I am going to be in deep shit," I tell her, dusting my pants off. "Oh," she chuckles, "good luck with that."
"Thanks, I'm gonna need it," I chuckle dryly.

I put my headphones in as I made my way home, trying to come up with an answer to every possible thing she could say to me. I'm never usually scared of my mom, she's always been my safety. But right now, I'm scared.

Very, very few times has she been angry with me and those few times ended up with me being grounded for what seemed like forever. Within reason of course, but it wasn't a good time. I had no phone, no friends, no tv, nothing, for weeks.

When I walked into the tower and went up to the living quarters, my mom was waiting by the elevator doors. Arms crossed over her chest and her resting bitch face on, which I must say is very intimidating.

I step out of the elevator feeling a lot smaller than I did only a few moments ago. "Care to explain?" She speaks bluntly. "Nope. Not really," I shrug.

I begin to to walk down to my bedroom but my mom takes my arm and pulls me back to face her. "You know if you just tell me the truth it's gonna be a lot easier for the both of us," she sighs. "Where's the fun in that?" I answer, taking her hand off of me and trying to continue my walk to my bedroom.

She doesn't say anything else, but still follows my every step. As I go to slam my bedroom door shut, she stops it my putting her foot in the way. "Do you have any on you?" She questions. "Have any what on me?"

"The weed, Y/N. I can smell it."

I roll my eyes as I take off my shoes and get into bed. "Y/N, give it to me," she scolds, yet I continue to ignore her. "Y/N," her tone is more harsh.

"Why?" I scoff. "'Why?' You did seriously not just ask me that," she laughs dryly. I shrug and start scrolling through my phone. Next thing I know it's being snatched out of my hands.

"You're not getting it back until you give me the weed and explain why in the hell you've been sneaking out," she scolds. "Fine, goodnight then," I say, turning off my lamp leaving the room pitch black. 

She turns the lamp back on. "Are you serious right now, Y/N? I'm only trying to look after you. You're sixteen and right now you're being an idiot."

I stare at her for a few moments, debating whether or not I should just give her the weed and come clean, or not. Going against my morals, I choose not to and turn the lamp back off.

I hear mom take a deep breath and walk out of my room, closing the door behind her. I'm surprised she didn't slam it to be honest.

As soon as her footsteps become quieter I get back up, change into pyjamas and hide the weed before attempting to sleep.

I toss and turn for the next hour. I know I'm causing my mom a lot of stress and she's not done anything to deserve that. I'm just being an idiot - like she said. I know that what I've being doing is right and it's not good for me but for some reason I still do it.

It's one in the morning by the time I get up and make my way down the hallway to my moms bedroom. With the weed.
Not knowing if she'd still be awake, I slowly creak her door only to find her sitting up with staring blankly at the wall in front of her. A book is in her hands but she's clearly zoned out.

"Mom?" I whisper which is enough to bring her out of my daze. "Are you okay?" I ask. She nods. "It's just been a long week," she admits with a tired smile.

"I'm sorry," I mumble, stepping further into her room and walking over to her to give her the bag of weed. "Thank you," she takes it from me, before patting the space on the bed beside her. I oblige, and sit down, cuddling up to her. "Is that all you have?" She questions. "Yeah," I admit. "Can I trust you on that?"
"I mean, I wouldn't trust me but I promise it's all I have."

She nods before we fall into a few seconds of silence. "You know why I don't want you doing this, right?" She questions, holding up the bag. I shrug in response. "Sweetheart, you're only sixteen and whether or not you like it you're still a child. I don't know why you started using it but if it was in any way to run from your problems or you mind, it's not going to help. Whatever it is, you can come to me. About anything. I'm only trying to keep you safe and I don't want this leading into anything more serious."

I nod before leaning my head against her shoulder. Her arm wraps around my back as she kisses the top of my head.

"I'm not a child," I tell her with a slight giggle. "Yes, you are," she chuckles.

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not proofread sorryyyy for the mistakes :)