Natasha Romanoff x Daughter Oneshots

Harshly Trained

Age: 11
Warnings: yelling, swears, blood
Word Count: 2365

You jumped down the stairs, running into the living room with a large toothy smile plastered across your face. The Avengers were all sitting, laughing with a beer in hand and a movie quietly playing in the background.

You jumped onto the couch beside your mother, almost making her spill her beer in hand while you climbed on top of her.

"Hi, детка." She smiled, placing her beer on the table beside the couch and pulling you up onto her lap, giving you her full attention.

"Hi mom." You smiled, snuggling into her and placing your head against her chest.

Natasha smiled down at you, a bit taken aback at the sudden cuddles. Especially since you've been going through this 'I'm too old for my mother's attention' phase.

"What's going on?" She asked you, stroking your back as the team suddenly erupted in a string of laughter.

You glanced up at your mother, a hopeful look gleaming in your olive green eyes. "Well, I'm eleven now..."

Natasha nodded, chuckling at your cuteness. "Yes you are, you have been for three months."

"So maybe...I'm old enough now to be trained?" You asked. The Avengers all simultaneously gone quiet, waiting for your mothers response.

But Natasha's face went from soft and loving to a cold robotic like expression as she quickly shook her head. "No, you're too young."

"But mama-"

"I said no, Y/n." She replied sternly. You nodded, clearly upset with her answer but kept quiet as you climbed off your mothers lap.

Natasha tried to grab your hand and explain why she doesn't want you learning this stuff yet, but you were too quick as you ran upstairs to your bedroom.

"Nat, maybe you should start to train her." Clint spoke up. "She can't rely on your protection forever."

Natasha let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "She needs to be a kid first, I don't want to ruin that for her."

Steve glanced toward the stairs, making sure you weren't sitting on the top step listening in on their conversation like you normally do. Once sure you weren't there, he turned to face Natasha with a sympathetic smile.

"The last time she asked, you did say you'd start training her when she's older." Steve recalled, taking hold of Natasha's hand.

She raised her brow, as if asking him if he was serious. "Eleven is not older."

"When is older?" Tony questioned. "Because once she's a teenager, everything will be a fight with her and she will never learn anything."

"I agree with Tony." Clint piped up. "She is a lot like you Nat."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Natasha mumbled, putting her head in her hands and massaging the sides of her temple.

"Think about all the enemy's you have." Bruce told her, leaning forward as if he was evaluating the situation. "They will go at all lengths to hurt you, and once they find out about her, Y/n will have no chance without training."

Natasha's stomach churned at the thought of you being hurt and tortured by her enemies, tears filling up to the surface. She couldn't risk that.

Once her enemies find out about her weakness, everything Natasha has fought for would be for nothing. "Alright." She sighed, gulping down the rest of her beer. "I'll go talk to her."