natasha x daughter one shots

moral of the story

age: 15

-

NATASHA's POV

"Mom, can I go out with Ella and Chloe?" my teenager asks as she walks into the living room.

I can't believe she would even ask that, especially knowing what we have planned for this evening.

"No, you're staying here tonight. You said you would have a movie night with me," I remind her, causing her to let out a frustrated groan.

"But I already promised I would go out with them," she retaliates, bringing her phone up to her face.

"Okay... well, tell them something's come up and you're busy."

I've been really looking forward to this time with my daughter. Lately she's been spending a lot more time with her friends and become a lot less of a mama's girl. We don't really argue or anything and we're still exceptionally close, but she's growing up and wants to be a bit more social. However, I'm not very keen on her going out every single day for hours on end. I need Y/N time too.

We planned on having a movie tonight, starting with Charlotte's Web since it's been her number one since she was little. I also went out to buy all of her favorite snacks, neglecting my own wants for the sake of making it a pleasant evening for her.

"Mom, it's one night, it's not a big deal. You don't have to be so overbearing."

"Overbearing?" Oh, she did not just go there. "I literally let you go to a concert last week with your friends and you didn't have a curfew. You were back at two in the morning, absolutely hammered and I didn't even punish you. I stayed up taking care of you, even though I had been training all day. Y/N, you get almost anything you want! Is there... is there something emotionally I'm not supplying you with? Do you need something from me?" I ask, knowing that sometimes kids can act out because their needs aren't being met.

"... No."

"Okay," I sigh, "Then stop moping about and come sit. I miss spending quality time with you."

"Mom, no. I'm still going out with the girls," she says as if it should be obvious.

I can feel this escalating, and I hate arguing with her.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. But you're not," I tell her, genuinely apologizing because I know she likes hanging out with her friends.

"You're being unreasonable."

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"I am not being unreasonable, Y/N!" I raise my voice slightly, not fully shouting.

Y/N's POV

"You bitch! I fucking hate you!"

She lets out a soft gasp. And I immediately regret what I've said when I see tears begin to well in her eyes. I took it too far.

"Alright, uh... you're getting worked up. I think you need to go to your room and calm down," she tells me, avoiding eye contact and blinking away the teardrops that threaten to fall.

"Mama, I didn't-"

"Just go upstairs, Y/N."

Before I can upset her further, I do as told and leave to go up to my bedroom. The guilt is absolutely consuming me. Why would I say such a horrible thing? She's right, I get pretty much everything I ask for and she's never neglected my needs emotionally or physically. She's the perfect mom and what have I given her in return? Absolutely nothing nice.

It's not like us to argue at all, we're usually so loving towards each other and while we both know small arguments will happen from time to time, did I really have to take it as far as telling her I hate her?

Maybe the best idea for now is to spend some time on my own so I can work out an apology, and give her the chance to breathe and have some time to herself.

-

By the time the lingering feeling of being such a horrible daughter has lessened, it's two hours later and definitely time to talk to my mom about what happened.

Forcing myself out of bed, I quickly check the time and see that it's only eight o'clock in the evening so mama will definitely still be awake.

When I get to her bedroom door, the sound of soft sniffles fill my ears. Two hours later and she's still crying because of what I've said. I really am the worst.

Knowing she won't answer if I knock, I simply put my hand on the handle and push the door open slowly, giving her a chance to tell me to go away if need be. But she doesn't, I'm able to enter the room fully. Only to be met with a crying and sad looking mama.

"Hi, baby, are you okay?" she asks me in surprise, rapidly wiping her tears away. Wow. This woman never fails to amaze me. I say some godawful things to her and she still asks me if I'm okay?

"Don't mind that," I tell her, "Are you?"

She looks at me solemnly for a moment, pulling herself together to make it seem as if she isn't absolutely heartbroken from my viciousness earlier.

"I'm okay," she rasps, patting the bed beside her. I don't hesitate to run up to her and sit.

"No, mama. Don't lie to me. I fucked up, I know I did. I've been thinking, really hard on how to apologize. But the more I thought about it, there isn't a thing I could say to make it better. I know an 'I'm sorry' won't change a thing, even though I am deeply and truly sorry for what I said to you. I could never hate you, I love you more than anything or anyone else in the world."

There's a moment of silence between the two of us. It's like she can't decide whether or not to forgive me. Not that I'm expecting her to. I said some pretty nasty things.

"Y/N... you know I can't say it's okay. I don't appreciate the way you spoke to me earlier. I know I'm not a perfect parent, but I'm trying. And, I will accept your apology because I understand that you like going out with your friends and that's much more fun than having a lame movie night with your mom," she tells me, the last part coming out sadder than the rest.

"Uh-uh. I'd rather be spending my night in with you and watching some movie we've already seen ten thousand times," I smile, bringing her in for a hug. "I'm really very sorry. I love you."

"I know, babe. I love you, too. Come on, how about Elf? Something festive?"

I laugh, "Absolutely."

As we're standing up, mom quickly stops me from walking by placing two hands on my shoulders and spinning me around to face her.

"Y/N," she starts. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you..."

"Go on," I reply, confusion flooding my features.

"You know Maria Hill? That S.H.I.E.L.D agent we've seen a couple times, mainly at Tony's parties?"

"Yeah..."

"Well," she clears her throat, "We've been... we've been seeing each other," she rushes out, holding onto me tighter than ever.

"OH MY GOD!" I yell, bringing her in for the biggest and tightest hug we've ever shared.

"You're okay with it?"

"YES! MARIA'S THE BEST!"

"Hey, what about me?" she pouts after pulling away.

"Well, yeah, you too, I guess. But Ria!!!"

"Ria? You call her Ria, too?"

"Yeah, we've spoken a few times at the parties. She may or may not have let me try some of her wine before."

She laughs. "Sounds like Ria. I'm glad to know you too have become acquainted. So, does this mean I have your approval?"

"Of course you do, mama. She'll be a great addition to our family. Come on, I really wanna have movie night now."

"Okay, honey. Let's go."