Natasha Romanoff Daughter Oneshots

Like Mother Like Daughter

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Forgot to put this little thing earlier

Age: 15

TWs: kidnapping, slight torture, stress

Context: Nat yells at Y/n and shit goes down
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"The most important thing." She whispered.

I kept my eyes on my mom's. No blinking. No looking away. Just solely, unending, eye contact.

"Never, ever-"

I cut her off.

"Let them know your next move. Checkmate."

She immediately looked down at the chess board with a confused face. Her king beautifully captured by my queen.

"How did you-"

"I know how you play мама." I say, casually getting up and grabbing a snack from the fridge.

"You cheated. You took my rook while I wasn't looking."

"How is it cheating if you took my rook while I wasn't looking first. All I did was take it back and get my vengeance." I say, my mouth full of strawberry yogurt.

She smiles. "I've taught you well Моя любовь. But somehow you still eat like a toddler." She says, wiping some food that had dripped onto my chin.

We were enjoying the moment until she checked her watch and realized she had things to do and meetings to be in.

"I'll be back later, Я тебя люблю." She sighed.

"Я тоже тебя люблю мама."

My mom went to a meeting, which lasted forever, but then retired to her office for even more forevers.

I eventually got bored and decided to go check up on her. She was now sitting in the kitchen on her laptop, looking a bit stressed, and it was starting to get late.

"Hey mom."

No answer.

"If you can't make dinner today I can do it."

"Sure whatever."

"You kinda sound like me." I chuckled, trying to make her feel better.

"I really don't need this right now Y/n!"

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

"God will you shut up!" She yelled and sharply turned her head towards me, making me jump.

She yelled. She hasn't yelled at me in years. And the last time she did she promised to never do it again because she scared me so bad. My throat began to hurt, my breathing got deeper, and suddenly I was eight years old again. My mom's anger echoing in my ears, and me trying to swallow the sobs and blink away the tears so I wouldn't seem weak to the opponent. Just like she'd taught me.

But I failed. The waterworks started to flow. I closed my eyes, not caring what my mom's expression was going to be. Instead I put my headphones on and turned around. Maybe she was apologizing and coming towards me, or maybe she didn't care and went back to whatever she was working on.

All I knew is that I was walking. Walking somewhere. Thinking and listening to the songs on my playlist. And crying. Crying a lot.

No matter how much my mom taught me. I've always been sensitive. Obviously I don't like to show it, but my mom says it's okay because she can be like me sometimes too. She says that she can feel like a 'tall child' at times. I agree with her. I feel like that too. But I guess I'm a 'slightly taller child.'