natasha x daughter one shots

smokin out the window

age: 16

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Y/N's POV

"Y/N! Dinner's ready, sweetheart!" mom calls to me from downstairs.

Not wanting to keep her waiting for too long in case she gets suspicious, I quickly put out my cigarette and chuck it out the window before rushing to brush my teeth and spray my room with the first perfume I found on my desk. I leave the window open so the smell can drain out and run to the kitchen where my mom is waiting patiently for me.

I'm not proud of my smoking habits, not at all. But with school getting too stressful, I found it to be a good reliever and now I can't stop. It had started off with a few of my friends doing it on the way home from school one day, I always thought it was disgusting and that I would never do anything of the sort. And here we are now...

"You okay, honey? You seem on edge," she asks me halfway through eating.

"I'm fine. Just tired from school. How was your day, mama?"

Her face is still skeptical but I think I've managed to brush it off for now since she starts rambling on about everything that's happened at work. Hiding this is gonna be harder than I thought.

NATASHA's POV

It was very clear to me that there was something going on with my daughter. I'm not sure what it is - but I'm gonna find out, I always do.

"Sweetie, I'm gonna go on an evening walk, wanna come?" I question as Y/N is cleaning up her dishes.

"No, thanks. I'm good here," she replies and continues what she's doing. That's weird, she usually pounces on any opportunity to spend time with me.

"Oh. Okay. Well, I'll see you later. Bye, detka," I say and kiss her on the cheek before exiting the house.

As soon as I stepped outside, the breeze hit me and I realize how cold it is. I didn't bring a coat either so I'd have to go back in to get one.

With a groan to myself, I take out my keys from my pocket and unlock the door, stepping inside expecting to see Y/N exactly where she was a minute ago. Instead, I see the rest of her dirty bowls and plates stacked on top of each other, and no Y/N.

My motherly instincts immediately tell me that something isn't right. I try and push it down because my daughter's a good kid, she's probably fine. Right?

Well that was what I thought until I continued walking and saw smoke coming out of her bedroom window.

My initial thought was that there was a fire, but she has nothing particularly flammable in her room so it wouldn't make sense. My suspicions grew and grew and I started making my way back to the front door again and unlock the door again.

I decide not to make my presence known in case she tries to cover up whatever's going on. My coat and shoes have been tossed onto the floor and before I know it, I'm making my way up the stairs and lingering in front of her bedroom door, peeking through the small crack from where she's forgotten to shut it properly.

I cannot believe what I'm seeing right now.

My little girl, smoking.

"What do you think you're doing?" I reprimand but keep my voice at only a slightly raised level.

"Mom!" she yells and freezes in shock, the freshly lit cigarette still burning away in her hand. "Mom... it's not what it looks like."

"Oh, really? Because to me, it looks like my sixteen year old daughter smoking. What else could it possibly be?!"

"I'm so sorry, mama," she apologizes and starts sobbing instantly, throwing the now put-out cigarette into her trash can.

I'm a little taken aback at her sudden outpour of emotion. I was prepared for a screaming match over this.

As mad as I am at her right now, I can't help but feel a twinge of sympathy towards her. Yes, what she's doing is wrong, but I know my kid and I'm sure there's a logical explanation as to why she's doing it.

"Oh, Y/N. Fine, no scolding right now. Get your butt over here," I tell her firmly but softly, I'm really giving her the benefit of the doubt here when she says she's sorry. Some could say it's all an act and that she's fake crying, but she's done that too many times before so I've learnt the difference and this is definitely a real cry.

A few minutes of us snuggling on her bed goes by, the room still smelling strongly of smoke, when her phone starts ringing. She goes to reach for it but I'm too quick for her and I get to it first.

"Jerry? Who the fuck is Jerry?" I ask her with furrowed brows. I swear to god if there's some secret boyfriend that I don't know about.

"Promise you won't get mad?"

"Honey, I wish I could but I must say you're pushing your luck here," I tell her honestly and decline the call before holding her closer to me. "Look, I can't promise that I won't get mad, but nothing you do could ever stop me from loving you. So whatever it is, just get it out and off your chest and we'll deal with it. I'm only gonna be mad if you're dishonest."

"J... Jerry's my... he's my supplier. He goes to my school but he's a little older than me. His dad always has a ton of packs laying around so he sells them to us younger ones who can't buy them ourselves," she explains in a guilty tone, her head hanging low.

"Y/N, I don't even know what to say. Can you please give me some more context on how this all started? This isn't you and I want to believe that this... whatever this is, has a reasonable explanation."

She continues sobbing into my chest for a few minutes before starting to settle again and trying to find the words to tell me the story.

"I swear I wasn't supposed to carry on. School was getting really stressful and a few of my friends were smoking and I always thought it was gross. Until a few weeks ago, I tried one and it helped me relax and now I just can't stop. I'm so sorry, mama. I totally understand if I'm grounded and-"

"No, no. You're not grounded. In fact, I don't even think I'm mad. Or disappointed. I'm just happy that you're not doing it to 'be cool' or whatever. You were doing it for a genuine reason, not that it makes it any better but it just means we can find other ways to help you cope with all the stress. Okay?"

She continues staring at the floor and I use my hand to cup her face and gently lift her head to look at me. Her cheeks are tear-stained and she's still letting out small gasping sobs.

"Go get them for me, my love," I instruct and she reluctantly moves off the bed and goes to a drawer I didn't even know she had in her closet. "What else is in there?"

"N-nothing," she stutters and quickly shuts the drawer, throwing the two packs of cigarettes to me.

"Sweetheart..." I warn and move to where she standing to pull open the drawer. She tried to hold it shut but I'm stronger. I was expecting to see some more packs or maybe even a few vapes or something, but I wasn't expecting to see this. "A vibrator?"

Y/N's face instantly goes five shades of red darker and I can't contain my laughter. She's such a Romanoff.

"Mom!" she shouts in embarrassment and shuts the drawer again hastily.

"Oh, calm down. It's normal. I really don't care to judge about whatever you do sex-wise. Now, as for the smoking, I will be taking these and throwing them away. You said you've been doing it for a few weeks? So the withdrawal probably won't be the worst but I imagine it won't be pleasant, I'll take care of you though. And for the love of god, drop that friend group please. I really need you to not get triggered so you don't fall back into this habit because it's so dangerous and bad for you. Last but not least, thank you for being honest with me and I promise I'll get you out of this cycle and help you to learn better ways of dealing with the stress. I love you, detka."

"I love you too... but, mama, it's gonna be so hard."

"It will be. But you're a Romanoff. You've got this. No more smoking out the window!"