Natasha Romanoff x Daughter One Shots

the one and only natasha romanoff.

"Maddie, don't you think this obsession is getting just a little bit out of hand? I mean, you have hardly any space left on your walls," my best friend, Sydney says, referring to the dozens of posters I have of the one and only Natasha Romanoff plastered all over my bedroom.

I've been the biggest fan since the battle of New York where she stopped my Mom from suffocating under a ridiculously large and heavy pile of rubble.
When my Mom told me the story, something in me clicked. I knew in that moment that I wanted to like Natasha. I wanted to save people's lives. I wanted to help save the world.

That may seem far fetched. It most likely is, however I'm doing everything I know how to make a difference.

Of course I could have chosen to save the world (a.k.a, people) by going to medical school and becoming a doctor, but I don't have the brains for that.

Besides, I wouldn't be able to survive off the lack of physical activity. I'm a very active person. I like danger and the adrenaline rush that comes along with it. So much so, I was once questioned by a teacher at school because of all the bruises and scars I manage to get from my constant need to make some not so smart choices.

"What? Like your wall isn't covered in posters of The Weeknd," I remark, throwing my school bag onto my bed and myself with it.

"I have two posters," she raises an eyebrow and takes a seat on my desk chair, "you have so many, I can't even count."

"Yeah, well...she saved my Mom's life and I want to be like her one day so think of it as my vision board. Law of attraction, baby."

Sydney giggles. "Whatever you say, Mads."

__

To nobody's knowledge bar my own, I spent my night out in Brooklyn. I put myself on 'patrol' as I like to call it.

Think of it like this; I'm doing now what Spider-Man used to do before he joined the Avengers. Only far less people know about me and my abilities (I've literally had one positive interaction whilst undercover), and I can't climb walls.

I did recently discover that I can—by some weird way that I am completely unaware of and confused about—set things on fire, or flood them with water.
By 'recently discover' I mean, I only really knew what I was capable of a few months ago. I found out by accident by commuting arson with a simple gesture of my hand the night after I turned fifteen.

However, I do remember once accidentally flooding the bathtub whilst I was in it and the water wasn't running, but I was maybe only nine or ten so the memory had been shoved into the back of my mind and only came back up as I attempted to put out the fire I accidentally started before the fire department showed up.

Anyways, pushing all that aside, I'm in need of a very strong cup of coffee this morning due to my lack of sleep. So, I headed over to the coffee shop that is quite literally across the street from my house and stood in the long line to order.

"Sorry, your card has been declined. Do you want to try again?" The blonde behind the till informs me, a gentle smile on her face.

I nod. My card declines again.

This is embarrassing. "One second, let me just check my pay went through."
I don't have a job, but it's better to say that then to tell her I think I've burnt through my pocket money on posters of the Avengers.

"I've got you, kid. Don't stress," a hoarse voice echos from behind me as I feel a body lean over mine and tap their card on the machine.

I look up from my phone and turn my head to the right.

I almost end up dropping my phone when I realise who it is exactly that is not only paying for my coffee, but is now standing directly beside me. "Woah," I speak underneath my breath.