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Natasha knew the answer but still waited for you to say something. She stood with her arms crossed, her motherly glare threatening you to give up and tell the truth. But you were your mother's daughter, and you weren't giving up.
"I didn't do it." You whined, acting upset that she could accuse you of such a thing.
Natasha forcefully grabs your wrist and drags you to the now colorful wall. You could see in her eyes that she was mad, but what scared you was the clenching of her jaw.
"Don't lie to me, Y/n." Natasha warned angrily.
"But I'm not!" You whine again, becoming defensive now that she was accusing you of lying.
Natasha was furious with you as she forcefully lifted your hand up to expose the marker all over your skin. "Upstairs, now."
"No."
Natasha raised her brow, quite shocked that you just said 'no' to her.
"Now, Y/n." She repeated, annoyed.
You stomped your foot. "NO!"
Grabbing your arm forcefully once again, Natasha dragged you upstairs while you flailed your arms and screamed at the top of your lungs.
"What is going on with you, дорогой?" (Sweetheart) Natasha questioned calmly as she pulled you into your bedroom. You run to your bed, tears spilling from your bright green eyes.
"Y/n?" She says, sitting on the edge of your small toddler bed. You had your back facing her and deliberately ignored your mother's questions.
"Baby, answer me." She tried. "Why'd you lie? You know mommy doesn't like it."
She reached out to rub your back in a way to calm you down, but as soon her her fingertips brushed against your shirt you smacked her arm away.
"Hey!" She yelled, turning your body so you would face her. "Do not hit me again."
You stuck your tongue out at her and Natasha quickly grabbed your chin, squeezing the sides of your mouth so you couldn't do it again.
"Do it again and you can forget playtime." Natasha warned sternly. You immediately burst into tears, trying to wiggle your way out of your mothers grip.
Natasha left you in your room to calm down for fifteen minutes. She called it Time-Out and you absolutely despised time-out. It definitely wasn't your first time as you were a big trouble maker. Always giving your mother an aneurysm with the amount of tantrums you threw on a daily basis.
___
Natasha walked into your bedroom fifteen minutes later on the dot. She felt absolutely horrible for treating you so harshly. After all, you were only four years old. You were never expected to 'know better'.
It's been a stressful few weeks for her. Every day was filled with some kind of tantrum of yours plus the overwhelming amount of work she had.
But as she walked into your room, her heart melted at the sight. You were curled up on your bed with your thumb resting between your parted lips.
Natasha sat beside you, stroking your back gently. Her heart filled with all the love in the world. No matter how hard you were to discipline, she couldn't deny that being your mother was the greatest experience in her life.
"Baby, you gotta wake up." She whispered gently, hoping that your little nap was enough to put you in a better mood. Her heart clenched at the tear stains down your cheeks as you stirred awake, your big green eyes opening to see your mama smiling down at you.
"Mama." You whined tiredly. Natasha picked you up and placed you on her hip, taking you downstairs for your lunch.
She placed you in your high chair with a sandwich already made and diagonally cut just for you. You smiled at your mother before taking a bite.
It wasn't a peanut butter sandwich.
You spit the chewed food onto the ground, throwing the rest of the sandwich onto the floor as well.
"Y/n!" Natasha yelled angrily but you only glared at her. "What is your problem!?"
"I wanted just peanut butter!" You whined.
Natasha wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, that was how frustrated she was. "But you like fluff!"
She should have known better than to surprise you with a peanut butter and fluff sandwich. God forbid it wasn't just peanut butter.
Your grunted, folding your arms over your chest as Natasha cleaned the mess you made on the floor. She wanted to give up as none of her discipline methods were working. She tried no toys, she tried time-outs, and unfortunately it was too early for an early bedtime.
Instead, Natasha released you from your high chair and let you play with your toys after all. At least that would keep you occupied and hopefully—fingers crossed—out of trouble.
"What's up with you?" Tony asked as he walked into the kitchen to see Natasha at the verge of angry tears.
"What do you think?" She snapped, taking a sip of her third cup of coffee.
Tony nodded, knowing exactly why she was so stressed. The entire team knew and they all wanted to help. But you, being the stubborn four year old, didn't allow anyone to help with your tantrums.
"She's a lot like you." He said, rubbing Natasha's back in a comforting way, that was until she glared at him.
"I was never like this." Natasha replied defensively, looking over at you. You were finally quiet and playing with your toys peacefully.
"Yeah, okay." Tony chuckled. "Good luck getting her to bed."
And with that Tony left the kitchen and Natasha was left to figure out how to put you to bed with as little fuss as possible.
