Age: 16 Warnings: yelling, fighting/hitting, swearing Word Count:1293
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"Where do you think you're going?" Natasha questioned with a raised brow, folding her arms over her chest.
You turned around, shrugging as if it was no big deal. It really wasn't, but your mother always made everything a huge deal.
"Out."
"Out where?" She asked again, stalking toward you.
"I don't know." You shrug. "Just out."
You opened the door, ready to walk out but Natasha was at your side in seconds, slamming the door shut before you were even able to take a step.
"You're not going anywhere." She told you, giving you the 'mom' glare.
You huffed, crossing your own arms over your chest and glared back at her. "Why not?"
"You're grounded." She smirked, grabbing your wrist and pulling you away from the door. "Or did you forget?"
You grunted, rolling your eyes. "That isn't fair!"
Your mother just gave you an unimpressed look as she held out her hand, asking for your phone. "Don't go snooping through my office again." She told you, raising her brow at your phone that miraculously turned up in your pocket.
You gave her a glare–just to test if she was being serious. "It's my phone." You argued.
She raised her brows, surprised by the audacity you had. "And I paid for it." She replied. "Hand it over."
You slammed your phone in her hand, anger boiling up inside you as you screamed at the top of your lungs, "I HATE YOU!" while stomping up the stairs into your room.
Natasha released a sigh, combing through her hair with her hand when a voice startled her from behind.
"Wow, that was intense." Bruce chuckled, coming into the room cautiously. "What'd she do?"
Natasha turned to face him, her expression stone cold. "She's being an asshole."
___
The next morning you were awoken by a flick to your forehead. You groaned, turning over so you could sleep more but the blankets were ripped off of you, exposing you to the cold air.
"Leave me alone!" You yelled as you curled your knees into your chest for warmth.
"Enough with the attitude." Natasha scolded, opening your blinds to allow the sunlight into your abnormally dark room. "Get changed and meet me in the training room."
"No."
"Excuse me?"
You saw your mother standing at the foot of your bed, glaring at you with her arms crossed.
