Covert Affair Oneshots | Natasha Romanoff

The Romanoff-Sinclair Kids

An: This was in my draft so I just added Ayla and called it a day. Anyways by chance are one of you guys a CEO of a tech company and is hiring.... asking for a friend... :))

It happened during the first day of school.  Mr. Daniels, was calling out names for attendance, Stella had already sunk low in her seat, trying to make herself invisible, but fate clearly wasn't on her side.

"Next up" Mr. Daniels began, glancing at the attendance sheet before his eyes widened slightly. "Ah... Stella Romanoff...."

The room went silent, a wave of murmurs and whispers quickly following. Stella cringed as she heard a few students muttering behind her: Romanoff? Like Natasha Romanoff?

Mr. Daniels didn't stop there. No, he had to keep digging her proverbial grave.

"As in the Natasha Romanoff. You know, that one superhero?" he said, as though Stella might confirm it right then and there.

Stella's hand clenched around her pencil. She wanted to disappear, to melt into the floor, but there was no escaping what came next.

"Oh wait, Sinclair," Mr. Daniels added, adjusting his glasses as he scanned her name again. "Romanoff-Sinclair. As in Jenna Grey Sinclair—New York City's darling herself?"

Stella could feel every eye in the classroom on her. The whispers turned into full-on conversations. People weren't even trying to be discreet anymore.

"She's their kid? No way!"
"Dude, I knew she looked familiar!"
"Wait, so is she a spy and a genius, or what?".

The whispers turned into a low hum of awe, curiosity, and thinly veiled jealousy. Stella's cheeks burned as she muttered a barely audible, "Here" hoping that would be the end of it.

It wasn't.

"Well" the teacher said, their tone somewhere between amused and impressed, "it's not every day you have someone from a legacy like that in your class."

She cleared her throat "Can we move on now, or do you want my family tree too?"

Mr. Daniels blinked, clearly taken aback by her response. "Ah, yes. Of course. Moving on then..." he stammered, quickly turning his attention back to the attendance sheet.

As the room finally started to settle, someone muttered just loud enough to be heard, "Clearly got her mother's attitude."

The words floated in the air, and Stella wasn't sure why, but they made her smirk. Not just any smirk—that smirk. The one Natasha, always wore. The kind of smirk that made people question if they'd just made a huge mistake.

Stella quickly wiped it off her face, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself in check. It was odd. She'd always been compared to her mom—New York's golden girl. The genius. The sweetheart. The epitome of grace and brilliance. The Jenna Grey Sinclair.

Of course, Stella loved her mom. But that was just it. Stella was always compared to Jenna, whether it was about her intellect, her poise, or her charm. When people mentioned Natasha in relation to Stella, it was almost always about her fiery red hair or those sharp green eyes, never about how she acted. That kind of comparison had always seemed reserved for Atlas and Ayla.

Atlas and Ayla had a natural ease about them that Stella sometimes envied. They moved through life with the same confidence and collected demeanor as Natasha, never faltering, always sure of themselves. They were Romanoff kids through and through. Stella, on the other hand, always felt a little out of place. She wasn't as bold as Atlas, nor as charismatic as Ayla. She didn't want to be either of them, but sometimes she felt like she fell short of the legacy surrounding her family.